Unloading my head....
1. Surgery is changed!!! No Saran Wrap needed now! I will be reporting around 11:30, and the dissection of Kim's Sentinel Nodes will begin around 1:30. Apparently God knew I'd be a major bear by 3:40pm!
2. Where is God?
God never left; been here the whole time. I do not hold God or anyone responsible for what has happened to me. I am a strong believer in sometimes cells do funky ass things. I honestly think it is in the genetic code- although that would blame this all on BRAC1 or 2. This has not been proved. But, like our blighted ovum, things happen due to cells not reading the proper code. The blighted ovum, just happens in some pregnancies, and I think, sometimes cancer just happens. My cells did not know they were being stupid, someone got lazy and replicated poorly. Like the time I got lazy and sent a major professional email with the greeting, "Hell All," instead of Hello All. Good times. But as for God, he's still there. He never left. As for cells, well we all make mistakes, and my cells made a really stupid one. I don't feel I ate wrong, or had too many beers or did anything to exacerbate this, things happen. My cells simply got dumb and lazy (slack ass cells).
3. What did you do when you found out?
You know I found out at Target and had a moment. I can't lie, I did. But, then I became rebellious. You know the best way to rebel on your body? Eat bacon, and cake, drink martini's and eat oreoes - cookies and cream stuffed oreoes to be exact. Since my body failed to not get cancer, I punished it eating a lot of "no-no" foods, and drinking vodka. Did I go crazy? No. Did I eat bacon on a stick, and eat a ton of cake. YES, I DID!!! And I also ran to attempt to offset my rebellion. I figured it cancer is going to try evict my boob, I am going to add more bacon to my diet. Unfortunately, this could lead to some artery issues, so, this rebellion will be short lived and done in moderation. Cuz we know all rebels are moderates at heart.
To continue to rebellion, I want more tattoos. Not just nipple ones either. With cancer being so unexpected, I feel like I need to do something unexpected, but by my choice!!!
4. Do the kids know?
Yes, and I even showed them how surgery today will go. Inject a little blue dye, make the incision, pop out a few nodes, and close up. I also used the word Cancer with them. I know they don't "get it" or have a frame of reference on what cancer is, but I felt they needed to hear the word. They got to hear it from me.
That is todays head dump. Please keep sending those prayers - 1:30 is GO TIME for the nodes!
Showing posts with label DCSI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DCSI. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2015
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
How to Make a Tattoo Guy Speechless
Where did we leave off. Right the big black hole. Anyway... Things are about to get a WHOLE lot of TMI (TMI means too much information for my parents that are reading).
Friday, we had to travel to the hospital Cancer Center to meet with the plastic surgeon. The center was nice and relaxing, like walking into a spa. Except, instead of a nice massage, you get a nice round of chemo. I was by far, the youngest person in the room (and since Jeff is 9 months older than me, I was like the BABY in the room). This jovial nurse called me back to get my vitals. He was a hoot, and helped me relax a bit. He lead me to the scale where a love seat was placed on it and I was to sit on this giant chair for my weight. At that moment, I knew I was not the normal person they see here. I'm young, healthy, and I have enough mobility to actually stand on a scale. But, there I was, I felt like a kid in this giant chair having my temp and blood pressure also taken. I am shocked Jeff didn't snap a photo, as it was a site. Then again, it was a reality check for us both that I am considered, "sick" even though I feel fine. There was an odd moment between Jeff and I that I knew he could feel how bizarre this all was. Confident happy Kim, looking 100% out of place in this Cancer center in this giant chair. It was a bit of a reality check.
Nurse man handed me off to nurse lady, a bubbling sweet 12 year old. OK, she was MAYBE 25, but sweet as pie. She confirmed our suspicions stating, "We don't see many people like you." Yep, so we have been told. I placed on my fashionable gown (and at the end nurse lady showed me the ugliest gown in the joint-- and it is hideous), of course it opened to the font.
The nice plastic surgeon walked in, looking kind and smiling. He jumped right in explaining all the types of reconstructions. Since you all know me, I knew about most of what he was explaining, thanks to Dr. Google. He started with a TRAM flap- this is when they use part of your latissimus dorsi muscle to create a new breast. I quickly explained to him, "No thanks." Then I explained my background of gymnastics, yoga, diving, running, etc. Like every appointment, that is when things changed. He saw that I was active and not willing to let him take out my lats, I mean I do a hell of a handstand and lat pull down. The idea of using that--- No thanks!
Then we discussed DIEP. This is when they remove stomach fat to create new boobs. This is the point in the appointment when I was ready to marry the nice doctor. He said nice things like, "You really are a small person and don't have much fat there." So, we used a very scientific technique to see if it would work. He said, "Grab your breast with your right hand and your stomach area with your left-- which is bigger? That would be all the fat we would have to work with." [And how many people reading this, just did that? Huh, I know you did!!!!] Shit, that would make me an A cup or small B- that is not enough. So, we decided that was out. Plus, with all my crazy activities, he was concerned cutting into my abdomen- even though muscle is not touched, it could cause worse issues. So, no tummy tuck for Kim.
Now we are at option 3.
Since the breast surgeon thinks we can save my nipples (seriously, this is a cool as hell kind of thing), the good plastic surgeon thinks we can do an all in one. This means....Dr. Miller (breast lady), will remove all the breast tissue and cancer, but hopefully save the nips. Then Dr. Tiwari would come in, weight the amount of tissue removed, and find a comparable implant to use. Then, he would put in the implant (under the pectoral muscle), add a nipple, close up and done. This is sometimes called an "all in one." This would skip tissue expanders and all that jazz.
BUT
there is a big BUT..... and not my BUTT
This procedure will only be able to happen if I avoid radiation. Otherwise, then we will take a break, have no boobs, do radiation, tissue expanders, and the process just gets longer. So, there is a plan B.
So. We need to avoid the "rads" -- that is what the cool kids on Breast Cancer websites call it.
The appointment all in all ended with a topless photo shoot, in which the doctor swears he will not loose his iPhone and that it is HIPPA complaint. But, please if you see my current boobs on instagram, let me know.
Jeff and I left with a plan A and a plan B and hope for a new set of jugs.
-----------------------------------------------------
On Saturday, Jeff and I had a date day. We went to the Reds game (last minute tickets, thanks to his Mom), to the Zoo (I was gifted a new Rhino glazed tile), and to the Tattoo Parlor. Because, yes, incase my nipples fail me, I may need some new ones via a tattoo artist. There are a few very gifted artists in Maryland and in Chicago (3-D Nipple Tattoo art, is a thing and about $800 for a pair of nips). But, I thought I'd check with local people first. Since I did not have the kids, this was prime time to start researching.
Jeff and I walk into the Tattoo place. Your stereotypical giant Tattoo artist with giant piercings, tattoos, and attitude, finally comes over. He was bit gruff, like I am going to ask for a cute tattoo of an angry clown, or a butterfly with skulls on the wings. I suggest he finish up a transaction of the girl who came with the dude wearing a "Harley Owner" leather vest. Harely and his lady left and giant tattoo guy was giving me the stink eye, wondering why a preppy looking girl was there. Maybe I needed a Unicorn tattoo to celebrate being 40 or something. Here is the conversation:
Guy: " So you here for a tattoo?"
Kim: "Kinda"
Guy [insert eye roll]: "What do you mean kind of?"
Kim: "Well, I have breast cancer and I am looking for an artist that does 3-D nipple tattoos incase the doctor cannot save my nipples. I know there are people around the country, but I thought I check with my local artists first."
Guy [insert foot in mouth] - ***The whole moment changes***
Guy #2 comes up hearing my story.
Guy #2 to Guy #1: "Do you feel comfortable doing that?"
Guy #1: "No."
Guy #2: "Can I refer her?"
Guy #1: "Absolutely."
So, Guy #2 gives me a bunch of information on an artist out of Dayton to check out. He does a lot of realistic tattooing.
By the end of the exchange we are all laughing and the mood was totally different. Hopefully, the next a "girl" who looks out of place that walks in there, they will take a moment and realize not everyone is there for just another bit of ink.
Well, this is a long enough post. I will finish up with the important information...
Friday, September 11th, is the day I say adios to a few Sentinel Lymph Nodes. I go in around 1:30pm and surgery is a 3:50pm. Please send all positive thoughts that every single one is CLEAR. Pathology takes 3-5 days, so this will be a waiting game next week. Also, please say a prayer that I do not kill anyone due to be starved for all that time, no food or water after 12:00am?! What?! No coffee?? While you are praying, say a small one that I come out of anesthesia ok- I really suck at coming out of anesthesia.
Thanks to everyone for all your kind positive thoughts and prayers. We need some good vides sent to the nodes on Friday. The MRI showed them to be clear, but since this cancer is being sneaky, we need to be double sure.
Here's to clear nodes!!!!
Friday, we had to travel to the hospital Cancer Center to meet with the plastic surgeon. The center was nice and relaxing, like walking into a spa. Except, instead of a nice massage, you get a nice round of chemo. I was by far, the youngest person in the room (and since Jeff is 9 months older than me, I was like the BABY in the room). This jovial nurse called me back to get my vitals. He was a hoot, and helped me relax a bit. He lead me to the scale where a love seat was placed on it and I was to sit on this giant chair for my weight. At that moment, I knew I was not the normal person they see here. I'm young, healthy, and I have enough mobility to actually stand on a scale. But, there I was, I felt like a kid in this giant chair having my temp and blood pressure also taken. I am shocked Jeff didn't snap a photo, as it was a site. Then again, it was a reality check for us both that I am considered, "sick" even though I feel fine. There was an odd moment between Jeff and I that I knew he could feel how bizarre this all was. Confident happy Kim, looking 100% out of place in this Cancer center in this giant chair. It was a bit of a reality check.
Nurse man handed me off to nurse lady, a bubbling sweet 12 year old. OK, she was MAYBE 25, but sweet as pie. She confirmed our suspicions stating, "We don't see many people like you." Yep, so we have been told. I placed on my fashionable gown (and at the end nurse lady showed me the ugliest gown in the joint-- and it is hideous), of course it opened to the font.
The nice plastic surgeon walked in, looking kind and smiling. He jumped right in explaining all the types of reconstructions. Since you all know me, I knew about most of what he was explaining, thanks to Dr. Google. He started with a TRAM flap- this is when they use part of your latissimus dorsi muscle to create a new breast. I quickly explained to him, "No thanks." Then I explained my background of gymnastics, yoga, diving, running, etc. Like every appointment, that is when things changed. He saw that I was active and not willing to let him take out my lats, I mean I do a hell of a handstand and lat pull down. The idea of using that--- No thanks!
Then we discussed DIEP. This is when they remove stomach fat to create new boobs. This is the point in the appointment when I was ready to marry the nice doctor. He said nice things like, "You really are a small person and don't have much fat there." So, we used a very scientific technique to see if it would work. He said, "Grab your breast with your right hand and your stomach area with your left-- which is bigger? That would be all the fat we would have to work with." [And how many people reading this, just did that? Huh, I know you did!!!!] Shit, that would make me an A cup or small B- that is not enough. So, we decided that was out. Plus, with all my crazy activities, he was concerned cutting into my abdomen- even though muscle is not touched, it could cause worse issues. So, no tummy tuck for Kim.
Now we are at option 3.
Since the breast surgeon thinks we can save my nipples (seriously, this is a cool as hell kind of thing), the good plastic surgeon thinks we can do an all in one. This means....Dr. Miller (breast lady), will remove all the breast tissue and cancer, but hopefully save the nips. Then Dr. Tiwari would come in, weight the amount of tissue removed, and find a comparable implant to use. Then, he would put in the implant (under the pectoral muscle), add a nipple, close up and done. This is sometimes called an "all in one." This would skip tissue expanders and all that jazz.
BUT
there is a big BUT..... and not my BUTT
This procedure will only be able to happen if I avoid radiation. Otherwise, then we will take a break, have no boobs, do radiation, tissue expanders, and the process just gets longer. So, there is a plan B.
So. We need to avoid the "rads" -- that is what the cool kids on Breast Cancer websites call it.
The appointment all in all ended with a topless photo shoot, in which the doctor swears he will not loose his iPhone and that it is HIPPA complaint. But, please if you see my current boobs on instagram, let me know.
Jeff and I left with a plan A and a plan B and hope for a new set of jugs.
-----------------------------------------------------
On Saturday, Jeff and I had a date day. We went to the Reds game (last minute tickets, thanks to his Mom), to the Zoo (I was gifted a new Rhino glazed tile), and to the Tattoo Parlor. Because, yes, incase my nipples fail me, I may need some new ones via a tattoo artist. There are a few very gifted artists in Maryland and in Chicago (3-D Nipple Tattoo art, is a thing and about $800 for a pair of nips). But, I thought I'd check with local people first. Since I did not have the kids, this was prime time to start researching.
Jeff and I walk into the Tattoo place. Your stereotypical giant Tattoo artist with giant piercings, tattoos, and attitude, finally comes over. He was bit gruff, like I am going to ask for a cute tattoo of an angry clown, or a butterfly with skulls on the wings. I suggest he finish up a transaction of the girl who came with the dude wearing a "Harley Owner" leather vest. Harely and his lady left and giant tattoo guy was giving me the stink eye, wondering why a preppy looking girl was there. Maybe I needed a Unicorn tattoo to celebrate being 40 or something. Here is the conversation:
Guy: " So you here for a tattoo?"
Kim: "Kinda"
Guy [insert eye roll]: "What do you mean kind of?"
Kim: "Well, I have breast cancer and I am looking for an artist that does 3-D nipple tattoos incase the doctor cannot save my nipples. I know there are people around the country, but I thought I check with my local artists first."
Guy [insert foot in mouth] - ***The whole moment changes***
Guy #2 comes up hearing my story.
Guy #2 to Guy #1: "Do you feel comfortable doing that?"
Guy #1: "No."
Guy #2: "Can I refer her?"
Guy #1: "Absolutely."
So, Guy #2 gives me a bunch of information on an artist out of Dayton to check out. He does a lot of realistic tattooing.
By the end of the exchange we are all laughing and the mood was totally different. Hopefully, the next a "girl" who looks out of place that walks in there, they will take a moment and realize not everyone is there for just another bit of ink.
Well, this is a long enough post. I will finish up with the important information...
Friday, September 11th, is the day I say adios to a few Sentinel Lymph Nodes. I go in around 1:30pm and surgery is a 3:50pm. Please send all positive thoughts that every single one is CLEAR. Pathology takes 3-5 days, so this will be a waiting game next week. Also, please say a prayer that I do not kill anyone due to be starved for all that time, no food or water after 12:00am?! What?! No coffee?? While you are praying, say a small one that I come out of anesthesia ok- I really suck at coming out of anesthesia.
Thanks to everyone for all your kind positive thoughts and prayers. We need some good vides sent to the nodes on Friday. The MRI showed them to be clear, but since this cancer is being sneaky, we need to be double sure.
Here's to clear nodes!!!!
Thursday, September 3, 2015
The Big Black Hole
Where to even begin... Let's tell it how it is.
I went in on Tuesday for the ultrasound. The techs were super nice. Immediately she put the wand on me, and I saw it. There are a few spots, but she found THE spot. A big black hole. Laying there, I knew. A prayer I offered up was answered.
I never prayed for a "negative test" or did a "why me" type request. My prayers were for God to help me get all the information available to make an informed decision, and for this not to kill me. I asked that he make it obvious on which surgery I needed. Looking at the black hole, it was obvious. That was my, "Here's your sign" moment (FYI- Not the Bill Engvall 'Here's Your Sign" thing, this was more Biblical).
Once the ultrasound was complete, then some nice Doc came in to confirm the suspicions and stated he would call Dr. Miller (she's my Breast Surgeon).
We went upstairs to see Dr. Miller, I told Jeff in the elevator that my boobs were going to get evicted. He and I spoke very candidly the night before. He made it clear he was fine with helping me deal with post surgery things and all the icky crap that will happen. Once I knew he was up to task, God gave me the sign - I was at peace with making my decision.
In Dr. Miller's office, she wanted to do her own ultrasound to confirm what was found. I felt her measuring and looking. I swear I felt her thinking. I finally said, "You know I'm not THAT attached to my right breast." She laughed and explained that she was concerned if we did a lumpectomy, that there would not be enough tissue left to save the breast and a mastectomy would occur. Again, I had that feeling of being in control and being at peace with my decision.
She spent a TON of time discussing options of what could or could not happen. Discussions on implants versus DIEP surgery (look that one up yourself), nipple sparing surgery, and removing lefty. We discussed how it was a medically sound decision to go ahead with the double mastectomy. But, first we need to get out my sentinel lymph nodes. Since this cancer has gone from cute and manageable to an obnoxious pain in my ass, she is concerned it make be in the nodes and wants those out before any other surgery. Apparently, how the nodes come back will determine if I am a candidate for the double mastectomy with beginning reconstruction at the same time, or just the double mastectomy. If I need radiation, that will break down the breast tissue and possibly an implant. If radiation is necessary, the reconstruction will happen at a later date.
I will be having a consultation soon with the Plastic Surgeons. Apparently, Cigna only has hand plastic surgeons in network. So, since there is no one that specializes on breasts and I certainly do not want fingers protruding from my chest, the new doctors can apply for a "like" in-network approval. So, Cigna has to cover who I pick.
As for the node removal, that looks like that will happen on September 11th. Lovely. While most people were in shock on September 11, 2001, my Step-Mother had her final brain surgery. That was my concern on September 11, 2001. I am trying my damnest to figure our why all these lead up procedures are overlapping with the dates my loved ones had surgery. What is the Universe trying to say? Or is it just happen stance? Am I strong and brave like them? Maybe.. Ugh, I just don't have a proper perspective on that.
The ball has begun rolling, the roller coaster is climbing up the hill, this journey is beginning. I'm hoping we are all in for a smooth ride, but, I know better. There will be bumps, set backs, or some type of goofy drama. If there is not, well then that will be awesome. I will welcome a very boring, textbook recovery from stupid breast cancer. I hope to be that lucky.
Thanks for all the kind words and support, it means so much!!! For everyone who has offered to watch my kids, I'll be calling you. I'm not sure taking Connor in to look at "new lungs" for Mommy is a good idea. I can see his just tossing an implant around and pretending to play catch with it. Yeah, we're going to need some child care....
I went in on Tuesday for the ultrasound. The techs were super nice. Immediately she put the wand on me, and I saw it. There are a few spots, but she found THE spot. A big black hole. Laying there, I knew. A prayer I offered up was answered.
I never prayed for a "negative test" or did a "why me" type request. My prayers were for God to help me get all the information available to make an informed decision, and for this not to kill me. I asked that he make it obvious on which surgery I needed. Looking at the black hole, it was obvious. That was my, "Here's your sign" moment (FYI- Not the Bill Engvall 'Here's Your Sign" thing, this was more Biblical).
Once the ultrasound was complete, then some nice Doc came in to confirm the suspicions and stated he would call Dr. Miller (she's my Breast Surgeon).
We went upstairs to see Dr. Miller, I told Jeff in the elevator that my boobs were going to get evicted. He and I spoke very candidly the night before. He made it clear he was fine with helping me deal with post surgery things and all the icky crap that will happen. Once I knew he was up to task, God gave me the sign - I was at peace with making my decision.
In Dr. Miller's office, she wanted to do her own ultrasound to confirm what was found. I felt her measuring and looking. I swear I felt her thinking. I finally said, "You know I'm not THAT attached to my right breast." She laughed and explained that she was concerned if we did a lumpectomy, that there would not be enough tissue left to save the breast and a mastectomy would occur. Again, I had that feeling of being in control and being at peace with my decision.
She spent a TON of time discussing options of what could or could not happen. Discussions on implants versus DIEP surgery (look that one up yourself), nipple sparing surgery, and removing lefty. We discussed how it was a medically sound decision to go ahead with the double mastectomy. But, first we need to get out my sentinel lymph nodes. Since this cancer has gone from cute and manageable to an obnoxious pain in my ass, she is concerned it make be in the nodes and wants those out before any other surgery. Apparently, how the nodes come back will determine if I am a candidate for the double mastectomy with beginning reconstruction at the same time, or just the double mastectomy. If I need radiation, that will break down the breast tissue and possibly an implant. If radiation is necessary, the reconstruction will happen at a later date.
I will be having a consultation soon with the Plastic Surgeons. Apparently, Cigna only has hand plastic surgeons in network. So, since there is no one that specializes on breasts and I certainly do not want fingers protruding from my chest, the new doctors can apply for a "like" in-network approval. So, Cigna has to cover who I pick.
As for the node removal, that looks like that will happen on September 11th. Lovely. While most people were in shock on September 11, 2001, my Step-Mother had her final brain surgery. That was my concern on September 11, 2001. I am trying my damnest to figure our why all these lead up procedures are overlapping with the dates my loved ones had surgery. What is the Universe trying to say? Or is it just happen stance? Am I strong and brave like them? Maybe.. Ugh, I just don't have a proper perspective on that.
The ball has begun rolling, the roller coaster is climbing up the hill, this journey is beginning. I'm hoping we are all in for a smooth ride, but, I know better. There will be bumps, set backs, or some type of goofy drama. If there is not, well then that will be awesome. I will welcome a very boring, textbook recovery from stupid breast cancer. I hope to be that lucky.
Thanks for all the kind words and support, it means so much!!! For everyone who has offered to watch my kids, I'll be calling you. I'm not sure taking Connor in to look at "new lungs" for Mommy is a good idea. I can see his just tossing an implant around and pretending to play catch with it. Yeah, we're going to need some child care....
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Thanks Cigna!
Low and behold, I get the mail on Saturday and a neat little letter from Cigna is in there. It states that, they needed to review the "medical necessity" of the bilateral MRI of my breasts. Really, the biopsy came back positive for cancer, I'd think an MRI is "medically necessary." Thankfully, the approvers at Cigna, agreed with my Doctor, Doctor Google and myself and stated it was covered, and medically necessary. MRIs are medically necessary, asking them to buy me a 12 pack of beer, I could see why that would not be covered.
I believe I am on the tip of the iceberg of again, dealing with insurance. I am thankful all my appeals and fighting I did with them last year, on behalf on my Mom, has prepared me to not allow them to bully me around. Jerks.
MRI update.
Well, there was some news. Righty (the lady with the cancer issue), showed she has a few more nodular lumps in the same area as the "known" area. It is difficult to see if they are part of the same process of the IDC, or the beginning of things going wacky. So, right wins more testing, she will be having a detailed Ultrasound (let's hope that is medically necessary too....). If these guys are beginning to show f-nut status (invasive ductal carcinoma), that means the teeny tiny spot we saw is closer now to 1.5 inches or so. Size wise we have jumped from a 1/16th of an inch to a 1.5 inch size. The location of this is in the 12 to 3 o'clock position. So, it's the part I try to create to be cleavage when I use my chicken boobs and a giant push up bra, that is the part affected. The good news, Lymph nodes are CLEAR!!!! Woo-hoo (please read that in your best Homer Simpson voice)
THEN, lefty. What?! Yep, lefty decided she was lonely and needed attention. Two spots decided to glow on my MRI over there, one in the upper left one on the lower left. My Doc and Dr. Google both feel it could be normal boob stuff (like the lump I had in 2000), but incase it's not, lefty gets to have an Ultrasound too!! Thank God my Co-pay is simply for the 1 visits and not $40 per boob.
I did meet with the genetic counselor and that data is still out. It must take awhile to count genes in the real world. Because on NCIS, they have all the DNA analysis done in a matter of seconds.
How is Kim?
Kim had a woe is me party yesterday. It happens. Then on my Facbook feed a picture popped up to snap me out of it. A little girl, one day older than my CC, is still fighting her fight with cancer. If she can be brave and deal with this, then by God, that is the last "Woe is Kim party" I will be attending. She is only 6, and has an entire life ahead of her. My prayers to Angelina; that little munchkin will kick Cancer's ass and go back to being a KID. Cancer should not happen to anyone, but it certainly should not happen to kids.
We will know more after the ultrasound. You know, providing Cigna doesn't call to say - Hey mind going to the free clinic to get that done to save some cash? Or telling me "No that isn't necessary!"
A boring update, but this is the hurry up and wait game. I think I'm winning so far :)
I believe I am on the tip of the iceberg of again, dealing with insurance. I am thankful all my appeals and fighting I did with them last year, on behalf on my Mom, has prepared me to not allow them to bully me around. Jerks.
MRI update.
Well, there was some news. Righty (the lady with the cancer issue), showed she has a few more nodular lumps in the same area as the "known" area. It is difficult to see if they are part of the same process of the IDC, or the beginning of things going wacky. So, right wins more testing, she will be having a detailed Ultrasound (let's hope that is medically necessary too....). If these guys are beginning to show f-nut status (invasive ductal carcinoma), that means the teeny tiny spot we saw is closer now to 1.5 inches or so. Size wise we have jumped from a 1/16th of an inch to a 1.5 inch size. The location of this is in the 12 to 3 o'clock position. So, it's the part I try to create to be cleavage when I use my chicken boobs and a giant push up bra, that is the part affected. The good news, Lymph nodes are CLEAR!!!! Woo-hoo (please read that in your best Homer Simpson voice)
THEN, lefty. What?! Yep, lefty decided she was lonely and needed attention. Two spots decided to glow on my MRI over there, one in the upper left one on the lower left. My Doc and Dr. Google both feel it could be normal boob stuff (like the lump I had in 2000), but incase it's not, lefty gets to have an Ultrasound too!! Thank God my Co-pay is simply for the 1 visits and not $40 per boob.
I did meet with the genetic counselor and that data is still out. It must take awhile to count genes in the real world. Because on NCIS, they have all the DNA analysis done in a matter of seconds.
How is Kim?
Kim had a woe is me party yesterday. It happens. Then on my Facbook feed a picture popped up to snap me out of it. A little girl, one day older than my CC, is still fighting her fight with cancer. If she can be brave and deal with this, then by God, that is the last "Woe is Kim party" I will be attending. She is only 6, and has an entire life ahead of her. My prayers to Angelina; that little munchkin will kick Cancer's ass and go back to being a KID. Cancer should not happen to anyone, but it certainly should not happen to kids.
We will know more after the ultrasound. You know, providing Cigna doesn't call to say - Hey mind going to the free clinic to get that done to save some cash? Or telling me "No that isn't necessary!"
A boring update, but this is the hurry up and wait game. I think I'm winning so far :)
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
It's Cancer, not Voldemort
Thanks for everyone and their super positive response to my post last week. You can imagine (and trust me I hope cancer and infertility and other ugly things only live in your imagination) I am so overwhelmed with the support, love and positivity that I have been surrounded with! Thank you kind friends!!! I promise, I will TRY to accept help. As one who steps in to help where I can, it is so easy to give help, but very difficult to receive it. As a few kind ladies explained to me, not accepting their open invitation was denying them joy of being able to help me and my family.
Well, hell, I'm not denying anyone their joy!!!
The big question, "how are you?" Thus far, I'm hanging in there, waiting for all the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. I have noticed when I say the word "CANCER" it freaks people out. Heck, it made me pause when I choose to type about it. However, in the spirit of "he-who-cannot-be-named" I went all Harry Potter on cancer. It is a word, it's a part of me, and also, like Mr. Potter, this scary thing will most likely give me scars. If I am lucky, it may look like an awesome lightening bolt, but that is yet to be determined. If young Harry can say the word Voldemort without fear, then I can do that with cancer. I am all big, and bad and brave.... until I feel like I am going to vomit. Like when, I see my "Crush Cancer" t-shirt in my t-shirt drawer. That makes my breath catch. Or when people are talking about planning the new "Crush Cancer" fundraiser for football. Something about hearing others say the word stabs me in the heart, and makes me feel out of control with all this. I'm ready to hide my head in the sand to try and forget anything is happening.
With infertility, I was fine with my story and telling/owing my story. But, when others tell me their story, it just cut to my heart. Infertility is not fair, and cancer is not fair. I said years ago that Jeff and I were dealt the infertility hand because we were strong enough to overcome it and educate others. I feel the same way with cancer. But, this is still new and raw and I'm still working on my ownership. While I look all big and strong and smiley on the outside, there have been a few moments where I have cracked. I can't lie, it is NOT all rainbow and unicorns looking into the great unknown.
The second question I get is, "Do your kids know?" Well, this is a funny story, because apparently having a studied and researched the human body for years.... I did not pass along my knowledge of proper anatomical terms.
After Jeff and I had told family and friends, I knew the kids were hearing bits an pieces. Me being me, again I had to control how they heard the information. I figured it was best that they hear age appropriate information on what is going on with me. Like all good, important conversations, it took place in the car.
I look back at the kids.....
Me: "I feel I need to tell you all what is going on. Do you know what a breast is?"
Kids [heads cocked like a dog, looking at me with blank faces]: "No? What is that?"
Me: "OK, let's try again. Do you know what a boobie is?"
Kids: "Of course."
Me [acknowledging parenting fail]: "Well, Mommy has been going to the doctor because she has a sick boobie."
CJ: "Does it have a cold?"
Me: "Not really."
CC: "Poor boobie, can I kiss it?"
Me: "ummm....no.'
Kids: "OK, so you have a sick boobie."
Me: "Yes, and the doctor is going to help me get it better."
And that was the end of the story.
However, let it be known, my kids seem to think my bra is breasts, and Connor has actually called my breasts, lungs. I'm not sure they know 100% which part is sick, but somewhere between my lungs and bra is the general vicinity. Close enough.
Tonight is the big MRI. I get to lay topless in a tube for 45 minutes listening to "click, click, bang." Should be a ton of fun. At least MRI's are PAINLESS and just the table is uncomfortable. I'm unsure when results will come in, but if you could spare a prayer, pray that the cancer has not spread into my lymph nodes or anywhere else, I'd really appreciate it. Positive thoughts that the asshats and f-nut cells are just in the one location!!!
Well, hell, I'm not denying anyone their joy!!!
The big question, "how are you?" Thus far, I'm hanging in there, waiting for all the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. I have noticed when I say the word "CANCER" it freaks people out. Heck, it made me pause when I choose to type about it. However, in the spirit of "he-who-cannot-be-named" I went all Harry Potter on cancer. It is a word, it's a part of me, and also, like Mr. Potter, this scary thing will most likely give me scars. If I am lucky, it may look like an awesome lightening bolt, but that is yet to be determined. If young Harry can say the word Voldemort without fear, then I can do that with cancer. I am all big, and bad and brave.... until I feel like I am going to vomit. Like when, I see my "Crush Cancer" t-shirt in my t-shirt drawer. That makes my breath catch. Or when people are talking about planning the new "Crush Cancer" fundraiser for football. Something about hearing others say the word stabs me in the heart, and makes me feel out of control with all this. I'm ready to hide my head in the sand to try and forget anything is happening.
With infertility, I was fine with my story and telling/owing my story. But, when others tell me their story, it just cut to my heart. Infertility is not fair, and cancer is not fair. I said years ago that Jeff and I were dealt the infertility hand because we were strong enough to overcome it and educate others. I feel the same way with cancer. But, this is still new and raw and I'm still working on my ownership. While I look all big and strong and smiley on the outside, there have been a few moments where I have cracked. I can't lie, it is NOT all rainbow and unicorns looking into the great unknown.
The second question I get is, "Do your kids know?" Well, this is a funny story, because apparently having a studied and researched the human body for years.... I did not pass along my knowledge of proper anatomical terms.
After Jeff and I had told family and friends, I knew the kids were hearing bits an pieces. Me being me, again I had to control how they heard the information. I figured it was best that they hear age appropriate information on what is going on with me. Like all good, important conversations, it took place in the car.
I look back at the kids.....
Me: "I feel I need to tell you all what is going on. Do you know what a breast is?"
Kids [heads cocked like a dog, looking at me with blank faces]: "No? What is that?"
Me: "OK, let's try again. Do you know what a boobie is?"
Kids: "Of course."
Me [acknowledging parenting fail]: "Well, Mommy has been going to the doctor because she has a sick boobie."
CJ: "Does it have a cold?"
Me: "Not really."
CC: "Poor boobie, can I kiss it?"
Me: "ummm....no.'
Kids: "OK, so you have a sick boobie."
Me: "Yes, and the doctor is going to help me get it better."
And that was the end of the story.
However, let it be known, my kids seem to think my bra is breasts, and Connor has actually called my breasts, lungs. I'm not sure they know 100% which part is sick, but somewhere between my lungs and bra is the general vicinity. Close enough.
Tonight is the big MRI. I get to lay topless in a tube for 45 minutes listening to "click, click, bang." Should be a ton of fun. At least MRI's are PAINLESS and just the table is uncomfortable. I'm unsure when results will come in, but if you could spare a prayer, pray that the cancer has not spread into my lymph nodes or anywhere else, I'd really appreciate it. Positive thoughts that the asshats and f-nut cells are just in the one location!!!
Friday, August 21, 2015
Oversharing Since 2007, why stop now?
I started this blog in 2007 as an online diary for family to follow our progress through our second IVF cycle. It was all documented. The road block (uterine polyp and had to stop the cycle), the daily injections, the positive PG test, and then when things went to hell in a hand basket with a blighted ovum. All of it, the feelings and the information is all poured thoughout this blog.
During our adoption, I did not blog much. I felt we were in such an emotional roller coaster, it was difficult to find the words to describe. When I became pregnant, it was difficult, again, to blog. I kept waiting for the floor to drop out from under me at any point in time. I was not sure the pregnancy was as text book as it appeared. Luckily, I just blogged about being a new Mom, and posting pictures of my newborn son, then eventually my daughter.
Silly pictures and stories are my thing. I do not use my corner of the web to spew hate or opinions on controversial things. I try to keep it light and fun, and I use it as a diary for me and the kids. I just let a few voyeurs in for the fun of it. We all need a break to read something silly during work.
Periodically bad things happen.
I made it a point to remain silent last year regarding my Mom's brain surgery and Deep Brain Stimulation surgery. One day, I will come back to it all.
But, right now. At this point in my life, I feel this news needs to be shared. I feel my process needs to be overshared. I know for me, writing on this stupid little blog is such a catharsis, I have to journal this. The kids are young and I hope to GOD they do not remember much of the journey I am about to embark on.
Here goes.
I have Cancer.
I have breast cancer.
I have 2 types of breast cancer, because I am special. If you know me, and my body, it's not going to do things half way. It's going to be special.
Thankfully, it's not that special, and luckily initial findings seems like at least it's a good Cancer. Let's talk about how the hell this all came about.
In January I turned 40. I knew I needed a baseline mammogram. Like any good procrastinator, I put it off. Then a Mom at school, younger than me, had a double mastectomy. I figured it was time to get the ball rolling. On August 3rd, I had my routine Mammo done. No biggy. If I can get checked with the "internal ultrasound" (i.e. dildo scope) for years on end to see if I was ovulating, the mammo was a piece of cake. I had a mammo back in 2000, but those films are long lost in a medical black hole. The issue in 2000 ended up as a benign tumor and lumpectomy was my surgery.
I got the call August 5th. My right breast was abnormal, they see a little calcification, can I go in for a more in depth mammo. Sure. Next up, August 7th, a fancier mammo and I will leave with results this day. I expected to get, Oh it's normal weirdness, follow up in 6 months. Nope. Instead I get:
Tech: "Did someone come with you."
(Clue #1 shit is not good)
Me: "Nope."
Tech: "Well, let me walk back with you...."
Cue Radiologist in a dark room looking at my images, and I see the salt - calcifications. My, Dr. Google degree told me this is possible DCIS, not a bad thing, but not a good thing.
Me (internal dialog): "Shit."
Tech: "The radiologist recommends a very easy procedure called a Sterotatic Core Biopsy. It's no big deal, and you can go back to work! Only a small nick and a little lidocaine. You will not feel a thing.
LIAR
Fast forward to August 11th. The same day my Mom had her brain surgery a year ago. I should have known this was going to sideways. Jeff came with me. I was calm, no biggie, little incision, put the tube in take a sample. Bing- bam-boom DONE.
Apparently, Tylenol is stronger then lidocaine. The ONLY part of this procedure I did not feel was the little nick. Every other jab, poke, pull, tear, twist and suck of the biopsy I felt. All 8 samples. Then came the easy part, they put in a small little marker so they know where the biopsy was taken from. The word in my head I cannot even type. It felt like a red hot poker being shoved in my breast and I was pretty certain my nipple flew off my body and was flopping on the floor like a fish out of water. Mother Mary. It was NOT painless. It ranks up there with the "painless" HSG (Hysterosalpingogram) with contrast. Common factor, both performed by male doctors, folks without a uterus or breasts. How can they know how it feels? Let me tell you- it all feels physically painful, and the emotions of it all are overwhelming.
Sample #7 was the one, they got the stuff. We were done. They gave me a Band-Aid and a teeny ice pack. I should hear results on in a couple of business days, that would be Thursday. I got out of there as fast I could. The techs felt horrible and told me it was "never like that." Sure...
Thursday, was CC's birthday. No call.
Friday, I called, no information.
Friday at 4pm, I received a call. The pathology report was not back. The lab was running more stains on my sample and having another pathologist examine it. Damn it. Just tell me the friggin' lab is backed up. All weekend, it was me and Dr. Google, and handful of people telling me it was 'ok' and 'normal.'
Then came Monday. CC had birthday money burning a hole in her pocket and, well, the kid needed underwear. A trip to Target was required.
It was a typical Target trip, until I got to the pineapple on the list. I was looking for pineapple tid-bits, as I am searching my phone rang. The number was the doctor. Shit.
Doc: "Mrs. Howell?"
Me: "Yes"
Doc: "Your sample showed Cancer."
Like in the movies, time stopped. My chest tightened. This is bull shit. I am just looking for damn pineapple tid-bits, not Cancer.
We quickly check out. CC knows something is up, but has no clue. In my head I am thinking, How do I even tell Jeff? Our Family? Our Friends? My kids?
Next thought/prayer, Dear God, please let it be a good Cancer.
I get the number to new doctor. A fancy Breast Cancer Oncologist. She gets me in the next day.
All I can think is, Wow, another medical professional looking at my lady parts for money. I have paid a lot of people in the last 15 years of marriage to look at lady parts. This is so not right.
We meet with the nice Doctor. She is kind, nice and friendly. Jeff and I feel at ease. After the initial exam, she takes over an hour to explain her findings and answer all my questions.
Type of Cancers in Kim's Stupid Boob:
Invasive Ductal Carcinoma
Ductal Carcinoma In Situ
This means, the cells in my milk ducts mutated to be cancer cells, then they decided to break the wall of the milk duct and go into the breast. We are thinking it is about 4 mm -- SMALL. But a MRI will tell more. My tissue is very dense so it's crazy difficult to actually see the spot properly on the mammo.
But, how do I explain this? Well, not so eloquently...
My Boob is stupid. The cells in the milk duct decided to be asshats and mutate to be cancer. Then the asshats decided to be fucknuts and break the wall of the milk duct and spread. My Boob is a jerk. Probably if it had another Martini and I stopped trying to be all healthy running and stuff, it might be chilling as a normal boob, but no. It's a Jerk. Also, I want to flip the finger to the scientist that told me breast feeding would lower my chance of breast cancer, YOU ARE MISTAKEN.
So what the hell does this mean?
Well, like Ms. Jolie, I got tested for any genetic factors that may contribute to this. RESULTS NOT IN. Also, I have NO family history of breast cancer.
I need that MRI to see if it has spread into the lymph nodes -- Still Unknown.
Tentative Treatment Options:
1. Lumpectomy with removal of the first layer of lymph nodes. Follow-up radiation and hormone blocking therapy.
2. Double Mastectomy, with reconstruction followed up with hormone blocking therapy.
Success Rates:
Both are very similar. Obviously, neither can account for another cancer to occur else where.
At this point, we need to wait for the other results to weight in. The choices are on each end of the spectrum. Hour by hour, my opinion on my choice of treatment is swayed.
All in all, I feel FINE. My boob is stupid, and I need more information to make the best informed decision ever.
In keeping with my oversharing nature, THAT is what is going on right now. Never a frigging dull moment. But, if my life decides to get dull, I am pretty damn sure I will welcome it, and find a way to blog about it.
But, for now, Breast Cancer is the topic. Looks like we are all going to learn a lot about this subject in a short time period.
Since many of my lady friends are at the 40 mark this year with me -- GO GET YOUR MAMMO!!!The tumor I have is SO small it could NOT be felt. I could only be found on the mammo. So, thankfully this was caught very early!!!
Thanks for reading, and hopefully we can laugh and smile a lot on this journey on how I am going to kick the shit out of the asshat and fucknut cells in my boob. (Apparently, Cancer has given me a potty mouth-LOL!!!)
During our adoption, I did not blog much. I felt we were in such an emotional roller coaster, it was difficult to find the words to describe. When I became pregnant, it was difficult, again, to blog. I kept waiting for the floor to drop out from under me at any point in time. I was not sure the pregnancy was as text book as it appeared. Luckily, I just blogged about being a new Mom, and posting pictures of my newborn son, then eventually my daughter.
Silly pictures and stories are my thing. I do not use my corner of the web to spew hate or opinions on controversial things. I try to keep it light and fun, and I use it as a diary for me and the kids. I just let a few voyeurs in for the fun of it. We all need a break to read something silly during work.
Periodically bad things happen.
I made it a point to remain silent last year regarding my Mom's brain surgery and Deep Brain Stimulation surgery. One day, I will come back to it all.
But, right now. At this point in my life, I feel this news needs to be shared. I feel my process needs to be overshared. I know for me, writing on this stupid little blog is such a catharsis, I have to journal this. The kids are young and I hope to GOD they do not remember much of the journey I am about to embark on.
Here goes.
I have Cancer.
I have breast cancer.
I have 2 types of breast cancer, because I am special. If you know me, and my body, it's not going to do things half way. It's going to be special.
Thankfully, it's not that special, and luckily initial findings seems like at least it's a good Cancer. Let's talk about how the hell this all came about.
In January I turned 40. I knew I needed a baseline mammogram. Like any good procrastinator, I put it off. Then a Mom at school, younger than me, had a double mastectomy. I figured it was time to get the ball rolling. On August 3rd, I had my routine Mammo done. No biggy. If I can get checked with the "internal ultrasound" (i.e. dildo scope) for years on end to see if I was ovulating, the mammo was a piece of cake. I had a mammo back in 2000, but those films are long lost in a medical black hole. The issue in 2000 ended up as a benign tumor and lumpectomy was my surgery.
I got the call August 5th. My right breast was abnormal, they see a little calcification, can I go in for a more in depth mammo. Sure. Next up, August 7th, a fancier mammo and I will leave with results this day. I expected to get, Oh it's normal weirdness, follow up in 6 months. Nope. Instead I get:
Tech: "Did someone come with you."
(Clue #1 shit is not good)
Me: "Nope."
Tech: "Well, let me walk back with you...."
Cue Radiologist in a dark room looking at my images, and I see the salt - calcifications. My, Dr. Google degree told me this is possible DCIS, not a bad thing, but not a good thing.
Me (internal dialog): "Shit."
Tech: "The radiologist recommends a very easy procedure called a Sterotatic Core Biopsy. It's no big deal, and you can go back to work! Only a small nick and a little lidocaine. You will not feel a thing.
LIAR
Fast forward to August 11th. The same day my Mom had her brain surgery a year ago. I should have known this was going to sideways. Jeff came with me. I was calm, no biggie, little incision, put the tube in take a sample. Bing- bam-boom DONE.
Apparently, Tylenol is stronger then lidocaine. The ONLY part of this procedure I did not feel was the little nick. Every other jab, poke, pull, tear, twist and suck of the biopsy I felt. All 8 samples. Then came the easy part, they put in a small little marker so they know where the biopsy was taken from. The word in my head I cannot even type. It felt like a red hot poker being shoved in my breast and I was pretty certain my nipple flew off my body and was flopping on the floor like a fish out of water. Mother Mary. It was NOT painless. It ranks up there with the "painless" HSG (Hysterosalpingogram) with contrast. Common factor, both performed by male doctors, folks without a uterus or breasts. How can they know how it feels? Let me tell you- it all feels physically painful, and the emotions of it all are overwhelming.
Sample #7 was the one, they got the stuff. We were done. They gave me a Band-Aid and a teeny ice pack. I should hear results on in a couple of business days, that would be Thursday. I got out of there as fast I could. The techs felt horrible and told me it was "never like that." Sure...
Thursday, was CC's birthday. No call.
Friday, I called, no information.
Friday at 4pm, I received a call. The pathology report was not back. The lab was running more stains on my sample and having another pathologist examine it. Damn it. Just tell me the friggin' lab is backed up. All weekend, it was me and Dr. Google, and handful of people telling me it was 'ok' and 'normal.'
Then came Monday. CC had birthday money burning a hole in her pocket and, well, the kid needed underwear. A trip to Target was required.
It was a typical Target trip, until I got to the pineapple on the list. I was looking for pineapple tid-bits, as I am searching my phone rang. The number was the doctor. Shit.
Doc: "Mrs. Howell?"
Me: "Yes"
Doc: "Your sample showed Cancer."
Like in the movies, time stopped. My chest tightened. This is bull shit. I am just looking for damn pineapple tid-bits, not Cancer.
We quickly check out. CC knows something is up, but has no clue. In my head I am thinking, How do I even tell Jeff? Our Family? Our Friends? My kids?
Next thought/prayer, Dear God, please let it be a good Cancer.
I get the number to new doctor. A fancy Breast Cancer Oncologist. She gets me in the next day.
All I can think is, Wow, another medical professional looking at my lady parts for money. I have paid a lot of people in the last 15 years of marriage to look at lady parts. This is so not right.
We meet with the nice Doctor. She is kind, nice and friendly. Jeff and I feel at ease. After the initial exam, she takes over an hour to explain her findings and answer all my questions.
Type of Cancers in Kim's Stupid Boob:
Invasive Ductal Carcinoma
Ductal Carcinoma In Situ
This means, the cells in my milk ducts mutated to be cancer cells, then they decided to break the wall of the milk duct and go into the breast. We are thinking it is about 4 mm -- SMALL. But a MRI will tell more. My tissue is very dense so it's crazy difficult to actually see the spot properly on the mammo.
But, how do I explain this? Well, not so eloquently...
My Boob is stupid. The cells in the milk duct decided to be asshats and mutate to be cancer. Then the asshats decided to be fucknuts and break the wall of the milk duct and spread. My Boob is a jerk. Probably if it had another Martini and I stopped trying to be all healthy running and stuff, it might be chilling as a normal boob, but no. It's a Jerk. Also, I want to flip the finger to the scientist that told me breast feeding would lower my chance of breast cancer, YOU ARE MISTAKEN.
So what the hell does this mean?
Well, like Ms. Jolie, I got tested for any genetic factors that may contribute to this. RESULTS NOT IN. Also, I have NO family history of breast cancer.
I need that MRI to see if it has spread into the lymph nodes -- Still Unknown.
Tentative Treatment Options:
1. Lumpectomy with removal of the first layer of lymph nodes. Follow-up radiation and hormone blocking therapy.
2. Double Mastectomy, with reconstruction followed up with hormone blocking therapy.
Success Rates:
Both are very similar. Obviously, neither can account for another cancer to occur else where.
At this point, we need to wait for the other results to weight in. The choices are on each end of the spectrum. Hour by hour, my opinion on my choice of treatment is swayed.
All in all, I feel FINE. My boob is stupid, and I need more information to make the best informed decision ever.
In keeping with my oversharing nature, THAT is what is going on right now. Never a frigging dull moment. But, if my life decides to get dull, I am pretty damn sure I will welcome it, and find a way to blog about it.
But, for now, Breast Cancer is the topic. Looks like we are all going to learn a lot about this subject in a short time period.
Since many of my lady friends are at the 40 mark this year with me -- GO GET YOUR MAMMO!!!The tumor I have is SO small it could NOT be felt. I could only be found on the mammo. So, thankfully this was caught very early!!!
Thanks for reading, and hopefully we can laugh and smile a lot on this journey on how I am going to kick the shit out of the asshat and fucknut cells in my boob. (Apparently, Cancer has given me a potty mouth-LOL!!!)
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