The New Normal

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions!

My post treatment mammogram did not go exactly as planned on February 24th.  I got a call back two days later that I required more tests....WTF???

I just broke down at my desk.  How could this happen?  What did they find?  Immediately, I reached out to some fellow vixens.  They were able to calm me down.  Two of them received a call back when they had their mammograms.  Phew!  I was still worried but likely it was nothing.

I called my family physcian that evening.  She had not received a report yet and assured me that because I had just gone through cancer treatment and at a very young age, everyone is going to scrutinize my tests.

I felt better and when I had my physical a couple of days later, read the report.  It talked of a nodule in the left breast at 6 O'clock.  "Well that's the same lump I had biopsied in 2011.  That's no big deal.  The last report said 4-5 O'clock but tomatoe/tomato.  Right?"

Turns out it isn't the same lump.  Its a new lump and the process began again.

When I started my blog, it was just before my surgery in October 2013 and I had already been struggling with the emotions that are associated with cancer for about two months.  As you may have read, I talked about the emotions surrounding the testing period and dealing with the unknown.  But by the time I expressed these feelings here, my mindset had shifted to determination and wanting to get treatment over with.

I have waited until I had a proper diagnosis from my medical team before posting this.  But I wanted a raw entry about my feelings with each test/appointment.  This post has been in the works since March 3rd as a draft. As I re-read this, although there were some less than pretty days, I am proud how I pulled myself out of a slump.

Day 1:
Yesterday, Meta came with me to visit my oncologist.  After my appointment the day before with my family physician, I figured there was not going to be any new information.  Its just a change to a lump that was already in my breast.

As I walking out the door, I got a call from my surgeon's office to book an appointment..  Hmmmm....that was a little unnerving.  Well maybe, they want to remove the lump or just having her on stand bay in case a needle biopsy is required.

When I arrived to my oncologist, Dr Song and another oncologist, Dr Jacobs entered the room.  There were a lot of concerned faces and I was told that a new lump has appeared next to the old one.  There was a 50/50 chance that cancer has returned but judging by what happened next, both doctors were leaning towards cancer.  They wanted to move quickly and determine if it is cancer; and what kind because it may not be HER2+ this time around.  They were happy that my surgeon had already reached out.  I already had an ultra sound booked on March 11th (and don't get me started on that clusterfuck) and they would try to squeeze me in for an MRI before the end of the month.  They also wanted to expedite my genetic testing as it could affect my treatment, should I carry a predisposition.

That was about the exact moment, I broke down.  What the fuck was the last year and a half for?

And I was right back where I started in August 2013.

As we approached my office, I broke down sobbing.  Meta just drove right past my building and said "You are coming home with me."  And just like last time, broke out some alcohol and let me sit there and cry.  Meta and I both looked at one another and she said "Jen, They think you have cancer."  Yup I had to agree.

So this is what rattles around in my brain next:
So did my treatment not work and now I'm full of cancer?
What is my life expectancy?  Am I going to die?  I don't want to die
Why does this happen to me?
God must really hate me
Will I handle this as well as the first time?
Should I just throw in the towel?
Why am I reacting this way?  I have been preaching how I am never going to let cancer win and here I am, right back where I started.  I am scared, vulnerable and helpless.  My skin is blotchy, I haven't eaten and my eyes are swollen from crying.  I know I should not be hard on myself but why am I letting this disease beat me??

By the time I went to bed, I felt a little stronger and had a bit of a "you are going to kick ass again" moment.  I slept well but by the time I rolled into the office, I was crying again.

So far in the last two days, I prefer just being alone as opposed to being surrounded by friends.  I haven't decided if that is good or bad.

Day 7:
Had my MRI this morning.  I laughed when the technician was walking me through the process and letting me know that an MRI is nothing to be afraid of.

"I'm not afraid of the MRI.  I'm afraid of the results." I tell him

Since you are forced to lie still, face down for 20 minutes, they offer to place headphones over your ears and you can listen to the radio.  They asked what radio station I prefer as I walked in.  I liked the house music they were playing but quickly realized that was the sound of the MRI machine....

I decided on a local country music station since they advertise "10 000 songs in a row."  Of course when they place the headphones on my head it is commercial time and when the machine starts, it is so noisy I can't hear music any ways.

Last Thursday I was beginning to return to my old self.   My appetite was coming back and I wasn't breaking down every hour.  We did a work team building activity and it certainly got my mind off the situation.  I don't think I have cried since Thursday morning

I have suffered from somewhat frequent nightmares and night terrors, my whole life.  It is hard to explain but I dream that I am in a bad or violent situation.  But I know its a dream and all I need to do is wake myself up.  So I start screaming or shouting "Wake up"  At first I can't make a sound but I keep trying harder and harder and eventually I wake myself up (shouting in my sleep....Jeez I guess I am even loud when I am sleeping) and then I'm fine.

I equate my reaction to Tuesday's news as the same as waking myself up from a nightmare.  Not the situation itself.  Trust me; this cancer scare shit is very real and it's happening.  But how I react, feels like a bad dream.  I said I would never let it invade my spirit and here I am, once again, letting it affect my daily routine.  I am stronger and better than this and I needed to pull myself out of it.  I need to wake up

During my lunch on Friday, I met a man who was blind and in a wheel chair; feeling his way along a building.  I stopped to offer help.  He was simply trying to make his way to the next door to get a hair cut....I felt humbled.  He faces challenges every day just to accomplish simple tasks like making it down the street.  We are all faced with challenges of varying degrees.  I posted a quote on Facebook "Being challenged is inevitable.  Being defeated is optional."  I see a new tattoo in my future.

Day 8:
Today was another mammogram and ultrasound.  Meta came with me into diagnostic imaging area, despite protests of the staff.  Thank goodness!  My wait time was almost 2 hours and if I had to sit there alone, I would have been a puddle.  It was a busy place.  I overheard one woman tell another that she found a lump.  There was another woman, that Meta and I seemed noticed who seemed visibly upset/nervous.  I regret not giving her a hug.  I was lucky enough to have support with me.

I had the same technicians from my mammogram, two weeks earlier.  They were incredibly sympathetic and one hugged me as I started to cry.  She showed me what they found in the last mammogram and it was a small lump of aprx 9 mm.  Considering my last lump was 2 cm, that didn't seem so bad.  It's deep and near my rib cage so it was difficult to get good images and likely why I didn't feel it.  They did the best they could to get clear shots.  It's worse than picture day in school.

After waiting for an eternity, I went in for my ultrasound.  The technician said very little except to anticipate a biopsy.  I already know that.  I wish they would have told me more and I argued that the psychological damage is already done so there isn't much more they can say or do. Their retaliation is that they are not doctors and the mammograms/ultrasound and MRI need to be reviewed together.

It's interesting to see the difference in attitude between the mammogram technicians and the ultrasound technicians.  One of the mamo techs' mother is currently going through breast cancer testing/diagnosis.  I'm putting money down on the possibility the ultrasound techs haven't had breast cancer hit close to home.

But looking for hope, I left, as Meta describes, "cautiously optimistic."  I looked for signs:  After a few images, I asked if the lump had "little legs"  One technician answered an undefined "No" but when I asked again, neither would confirm or negate.  This time the radiologist was not present and they certainly didn't take dozen of images.  That's hopeful??

Day 8 - 7:00 PM
I was out having dinner with Ang and noticed I missed a call from my family Dr.  Crap!  I have instructed her to always leave a voice mail - no matter what the news.

Her message started out with "I'm sorry to leave a voicemail...."

I could hear my heart beating in my ears.

She continued; "But I wanted to let you know that you can breathe easier tonight...."

The lump appears to be benign.

I started crying tears of happiness at the table.  I looked over at Ang and tears were running down her face too.

I remain cautiously optimistic.

Day 15

I saw my surgeon and it was a brief and positive appointment.  She is very confident that the tumour is benign and a biopsy is not necessary.

She cringed when I told her that I want a full mastectomy with reconstruction and reminded me that it isn't a simple surgery and my breasts won't look the same.  I explained how I went completely crazy for two weeks.  I can't live like this with each mammogram.  There has been five lumps found in my breasts over the years.  Four are considered benign and the other one?  Well, you know the story there.  The next mammogram or the one after will not be any different.....My track record is lumps; good or bad

She understood my point and I assured her that I will think very hard and research before making a decision.

I still need to complete my genetic testing before any thing can be done.  The outcome will determine what kind of mastectomy and how much they will take away.  It will take about 1-2 months to get those results.

If I chose to use my surgeon, she does the "removal" part and she has one plastic surgeon that she prefers to work with who does the reconstruction.  But he has a lengthy wait list.  Again, I am fine with taking time to make a clear educated decision. I just googled him and he has good reviews.

So this is my new "life."  Every time a test pulls up something abnormal, my medical team swings into "combat" mode to quickly determine if it is cancerous or not.  Hopefully, as time passes, these situations become fewer and fewer.

In the mean time, I can plan a well deserved vacation