Preparing for Battle

I definitely stayed busy over the weekend waiting for my results.  I was pretty calm, and Julia would periodically ask to see my "ouchie."  "Can I see your ouchie?  Can I touch it politely?"

Once Monday rolled around, I clung to my phone like a 12 year old girl, waiting for "the call."  Eric texted me at 1:50, "Did you hear anything, yet?" I replied, "Not yet."  At 2:11, the phone rang.  It was my breast surgeon, Dr. G.  She asked how I was doing.  I told her I was sore over the weekend but this morning I got my range of motion back.  As I was explaining, I knew it must not be good news since she was the one calling me.  I was right. 

She told me they found abnormal cells, and that this was new cancer, not leftover from last time.  I had to wait for the full pathology report tomorrow, because when they find abnormal cells they have to go for further analysis.  Also, that the cancer team meets every week to talk about cases (I remembered from last time) and that they would talk about me tomorrow morning.  I would get a call from Jill, my nurse navigator, in an hour to schedule meetings with Dr. G and Dr. U, my medical oncologist, and at that meeting we'd come up with our game plan. 

She also told me that I need to mentally prepare myself because they were going to be especially aggressive because we don't want this happening a third time, and that this shouldn't be happening in the first place, as the chance of recurrence after a bilateral mastectomy is less than 1-2%.  (I guess I'm special.  Maybe I should think about buying a lottery ticket...)  But in that sentence, I felt like she was essentially telling me to armor up and get ready to go to battle. 

I love me some Katniss Everdeen

I hung up the phone and immediately felt the urgency to go talk to my boss (who knew what was going on).  I went into her office and she was talking to our former Executive Director who now oversees U.S. programs.  I said, "Oh sorry, I'll come back."  But she stopped me and gave me this anticipatory look and asked if I heard back.  I told her I had and just shook my head yes.  I saw both their faces drop with disappointment running over them.  They ran over to me and wrapped me in their arms and I just started crying. 

After a few minutes we sat down and the first words that came out of my mouth were, "I'm so annoyed."  They laughed.  I know the first two stages of grief are denial and anger.  I skipped denial and went to anger, but I didn't then, and still don't, feel anger.  It's like a lesser form and more just this feeling of annoyance like when you're at a BBQ and a fly keeps swarming around your head and plate of food.  Would you just go away and leave me alone??



Image courtesy of phrase mix

I decided I would tell Eric after Julia was in bed so we could just have a focused conversation.  I felt like he experienced denial and anger all at once.  It was pretty fascinating to witness.  My parents came over later, and the four of us just talked about next steps and how we were feeling. 

Tuesday I got a call from Jill.  She was my nurse navigator last time so it's been nice to at least be familiar with folks, and that it's not all brand new territory.  She told me that the pathology report came back and that it's Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (IDC).  Last time I had Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS).  The difference between invasive and noninvasive cancer is that noninvasive is constrained within the milk ducts, whereas invasive has spread beyond that and into the breast tissue. 

She also said that they were still waiting on one piece of the pathology report which is the status of the HER2 protein.  Finally, the team wants me to have a PET Scan to see if the cancer has spread and to where.  She also said the couldn't officially give me a stage until we got the results of the HER2 and PET scan.  (Side note: I found out I'm HER2 negative, which is a good thing!)  Unofficially though, because it's invasive but due to the tumor's small size (about the size of a pea) I'm at a Stage 1.  But again, we have to wait for more results. 

Wednesday was a logistical chess game.  There was a lot of back and forth but my marathon of appointments begins:
Friday-PET Scan
Monday- MRI
Tuesday- Meet with Dr. U (medical oncologist) and then with Dr. G (breast surgeon)

It sounds like all treatments (chemotherapy, hormone therapy, surgery, radiation) are on the table.  It's a matter of what these appointments bring, and the game plan will be decided on Tuesday. 

These last few days have been emotionally draining because I've been telling so many people.  Tuesday I just wanted to sleep.  I was so tired.  I've cried so many times.  I'm definitely more scared this time around.  It's more serious.  Julia's older (3...a smart 3 year old) and I need to talk to her and explain what I can.

I was driving on Tuesday and I was recalling how last time things moved so quickly and I didn't get a chance to process much.  This time around I think I need to try to be present, and do some check-ins with myself to process what's happening.  Things are already moving so quickly and I need to mentally pump the breaks sometimes. 

As I reflect though, I feel so lucky to have had to spend such a long amount of time telling people of all walks of life.  I felt so supported last time, and certain relationships have deepened since 2 years ago, and I already feel the warmth and love and prayers of so many.

I keep reminding myself that God never gives us anything he doesn't think we can carry.  I am definitely scared, but also calm.  I feel like my body and my mind are in a state of rest as I get ready for this next battle.  I'm gearing up for fight and survival mode.  That battle starts Friday.  Let's go.

Photo courtesy of Marie Andersson