Cancer Journey- Part 4

If you would like to read Part 3, click here.

The Diagnosis

April 6th came and even though I had read the words, “metastatic breast carcinoma” myself I still had hopes that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. We went to meet the GI doc, Dr. M, and just after greeting us in his office the Hematology/Oncology doc, Dr. B, joined in. That’s when I got out of my normally optimistic state and realized this was worse than I wanted to believe.

Dr. M said that he had taken samples all along during his procedures and at every point; the stomach, small intestine, and large intestine all had cells consistent with breast cancer. Dr. B said that the bone marrow was full of the breast cancer cells also, which explained why I have such bad anemia.

I asked how long I have. He said when it’s found at this stage it’s usually four years, but with the medicine he can get me to five.

I asked what I missed. What were the signs and symptoms that I had ignored? He said none. I have a type called Lobular Breast Carcinoma. It doesn’t make masses or tumors. It is sneaky and doesn’t show up on images.

I asked about the pain in my stomach. He said that was more than likely the cancer attacking my organs.

He went on to explain the medicines that I would need to receive. How they worked and probably a lot more. I really can’t remember what all was discussed. I was just trying to hold it all together.

Dr. M gave me a hug and Dr. B walked us down to talk to the cancer care coordinator. We met Bianca and she took me to talk to a nurse about genetic testing. I filled out a form for the testing. There are different treatment options that open up if my genes are somehow mutated. I don’t know of any superpowers, but I’ll let you know what the test reveal.

Dr. B then walked us out of there showing me more paperwork and pointing out the hallways of the hospital where I would need to go for a breast MRI, brain MRI and mammogram. He reminded me that I needed to take my paperwork to the lab for the genetic testing. Then he gave me a hug and shook Ben’s hand and we walked towards the doors to leave the hospital. I almost made it out before breaking down. Ben stood there holding me until I was able to compose myself, then we made our way to the vehicle.

Going home and telling the kids was not easy. Calling my parents seemed even harder. I was in shock. Aside from my anemia slowing me down I felt fine. All the thoughts about leaving my family and all the things that I was going to miss; graduations, holidays, weddings, holding grandchildren, future plans Ben and I had discussed for after his retirement, it all started to take a toll on me.

I stayed home from work that Friday. Saturday, April 8th, I wrote on Facebook what was going on and asked for prayers. I knew they were working because I went from fear to peace almost instantly. I still have my moments when I let the thoughts of what may happen sit in my mind for too long. But for the most part I’m choosing peace and hope in the Lord.

More Tests

Monday, April 10th I was back at the hospital for the breast MRI. I had to lie face down with my arms extended in front of me like in a flying Superman position. It was only about 25 minutes long, but of course my arms went to sleep. When it was all done the lady doing the test pulled me out of the machine and said to use the side bars to push myself up. That was super fun with one semi working arm. I did make it up without looking too silly or falling on the floor, so I call that a win.

Thursday, April 13th I was once again back at the hospital. My first stop was for a mammogram. The nurse (she may have a special title, but I can’t remember) called me in for my images. She took two pictures of each side and had me wait for the doctor to review them. She then came and got me saying the doctor wanted more pictures. She took three more on both sides. I then had to wait for the doctor to review again. This time the radiologist came and got me and took me to a back room to discuss the findings with the doctor.

The doctor kept asking the radiologist if she had given me the good news yet. I couldn’t imagine what good news there would be. The radiologist started by saying that the reason they had to do multiple pictures was because they couldn’t find any cancer in the images. She then went on to say that there was no evidence of cancer in my breast MRI either. She couldn’t explain why, she just kept saying that this is unusual.

The doctor that was there kept saying, “Smile, this is good news!” I started to get hopeful that this was all just a big mistake. There was somehow a misdiagnosis and it wasn’t cancer. The doctor then suggested that I have an ultrasound because if the cancer is in there their tech would find it.

I was then taken back for ultrasound imaging. The tech took picture after picture and labeled everything as she went along. The radiologist came in to get whatever info she could. The tech said, “All I can find is a cyst.” My hopes were going even higher. I sent a text to Ben to tell them what they were saying to me.

Once they were done with me, I went through the hospital maze for a brain MRI. This one was much more comfortable. I got to lay on my back with a pillow under my head and my feet raised on a foam wedge. I didn’t stay comfortable for too long though, with my legs raised it put all the pressure onto my hips where I was still recovering from the biopsy. The lady running the machine put what looked like a hockey goalie face mask over my face and told me to hold still, it would be about 35 minutes. Everything went well and I was soon on my way.

From there I had to head up to the third floor to meet with Ben for my third appointment that morning. He knew I had my hopes up but broke the news to me that he had asked Jay about the lack of findings in the images and that he said that this type doesn’t show up. It’s sneaky.

It wouldn’t have mattered at all if I had been having yearly mammograms. It would have been missed and I would have been told that I was fine until the next routine check-up.

Medicines

I got called back to learn about my monthly medication shots from one of the nurses. I would be getting one in my arm to protect my bones and one in my abdomen to stop my ovaries from producing estrogen. This cancer feeds on estrogen so putting me into menopause and starving the cancer is the route they take. She told me to not look at the needle. It is big. It needs to be able to put a time release pill in the fleshy part of my stomach. She also said that after a few months most patients no longer have a problem getting the injection.

Dr. B came in to check on me and asked if I had any questions. Well, yes, of course I did. Why didn’t my cancer show up on any of the three imaging techniques? He basically repeated what he had said when giving me my diagnosis and what Jay had said earlier, it’s sneaky. It doesn’t form masses. The cells line up in a chain and it is found by doing biopsies. He talked to us for a while longer then, we headed home. We’d see him again the next day for my next appointment, starting treatments.

I went to work the next morning, Friday, April 14th. My appointment wasn’t until the afternoon. All morning I got to think about that big needle that would be jabbing me in the belly. I really didn’t want to go. Can you blame me? Knowing that it was a needle so big that I was warned against looking at it just sat in my mind.

It was finally time to go. My first appointment was with another nurse to explain my daily meds. Three pills of one to help the other pills and one other little one to stop my estrogen from being made elsewhere in my body. Any valium on that tray? I think I’m going to need some. I knew the needles were right next to me.

The time came to start the shots. Ms. Zelda was doing them for me that day. She started with the one in my arm. It had a lot of juice in it and she had to go slowly, little bursts at a time. It stung a little but wasn’t too bad.

I had already given my phone to Ben to take pictures of the needle. I didn’t want to see it beforehand, but I did want to see it afterwards.

It’s the one in the middle with the white cap. Ms. Zelda said she needed to put it in my fat belly. I really hope she misspoke and meant my belly fat. I adjusted myself in the chair and got my clothes out of the way. I grabbed the arms of the chair with all my might and once again decided to be brave. She cleaned the spot she was going to inject then said, “Okay, I’m going to start with the Lidocane.”

What? No one said that I was going to be numbed first! Woohoo! She numbed me up and when it was time for the shot, I didn’t feel a thing. We told her that no one said anything about the numbing. She said there was no way she’d be sticking that in anyone without being numbed first. I let her know that she was my new favorite.

Wanna see the needle?

I forgot to tell my arms to calm down. You can see a little bit of my hand still gripping the chair to keep from launching out. There was no pain during the shot or at any time afterwards.

I sent the picture to my parents and a couple friends. I didn’t get to see the look of horror on their faces, so I had to show coworkers the next week. I got some pretty shocked looks and TSgt J said it looked like a Slurpee Straw.

My appointments that week were going to be easy. I would get to hear what my genetics tests revealed and if they had found those superpowers in any mutant genes.

Thank you for reading along and for all your prayers. Have a blessed day!

To continue on to Part 5, click here.