Tuesday, December 31, 2013

knowledge = a hill of beans

The depth to which I know myself, the road to recovery, potential traps, pot holes, snares and possible wrong turns didn't matter. No difference was made when guided and cared for by the most astute travelers on the road to wellness.

The breakdown was going to happen. No divergence would be had. No coaxing would decrease the emotional breakdown. Physically and emotionally drained. The drains doing more than their job of collecting fluid.

The drain removal should have been a time to rejoice, yet the removal was more of a physical reminder of that which had not been processed and an assault. The first full body emotional release triggered!

The depression of realizing the best thing for me was to be with others who could care for me meant not being at home. No matter how much I wanted to be at home, 9 days post op, I was unable to take care of myself without exhausting myself. I wanted to be with my wife, I wanted to be at home but mostly I wanted to be able to care for myself and that was not the case.

Each day is one step further away from cancer one step closer to healing. Nonetheless, no matter how far and how fast I wish to leave this behind me I must process it, shed it and create a new comfort in my own skin. This process isn't linear, soft or fluffy. It has teeth but the future is mine.

As difficult as this process has been there are times that I can honestly say I wouldn't trade for anything in this world. The love I have for my wife is deeper, richer, and more palpable. Yet above all the love I feel from my wife is indescribable, it feels intertwined in my fabric, a part of me. I am also present to being at my weakest point ever and being formed into a stronger, more compassionate, loving and loved woman.

There are more things I need to process and write that have been in my mind and I know they will ring of pain, sorrow and loss. Yet tonight I wish to leave this post thinking of a new future. Tomorrow 2013 will be gone, put away,in memories and in some boxes. Tomorrow brings change and nothing needs to be carried forth from yester year but love.

We are all loved and its that power that heals, creates, binds, resolves, and carries us forward. Happy New Year!

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Fringes

I'm unraveling. Thoughts float around yet as I start to focus on one thought, it falls. No form is left for me to discern what is of concern.

I'm tired. The mind and body are done with the pain. Pain dragging all the power out and leaving me with nothing.

The love is palpable yet I'm not able to hold on and I feel myself closing. Where I was raw before and it opened me up to realization, now the numbness stings and I retreat inside.

The day of surgery I let go of the thin line. One day out of surgery and I stepped into my future. Six days out and it was confirmed. Now, on the ninth day I'm a mess.

Frazzled and in pain the weakness pulls at every thread.  Now I struggle with strength to step into my future which I created.

Strength, come back to me...

Friday, December 27, 2013

Fathers are Different

This is a different kind of post. It's something on my mind that needs to come out on loudspeaker.

Some of you are aware that while I was wadding through this process to get a diagnosis my Father was in the hospital in ICU.

For a few days I was able to silence my panicked rat while I drive to Denver to support my fathers care. He was removed from the ventilator on Thanksgiving day and started a couple week process of healing his lungs and those fun other things that happen when you are 73 and in the hospital.

On the 19th my Dad was released from the skilled nursing home to follow up with his PCP. He got sick the day before they released him but released him anyway. On the 20th his PCP said you don't need surgery. On the 23rd my sister took him into the ER with the same symptoms that he was originally seen back before Thanksgiving.

Today, the 27th, we is scheduled for surgery to fix a hiatal hernia that has a neat complication of causing a gastric volvulus. A flipping of the stomach or in essence trying to colic like a horse. This is not common in humans, my Dad truly loves horses.

Why is this post pertinent you might ask or you might have queued into the timeline. My Father, who I call Pop, knows nothing of my medical trip.

I didn't want to tell him while he was healing. Then he got released and was felling better and I was preparing to let go of my thin line. During this time I discovered that I couldn't tell my Pop. Not me. I needed someone else to tell him his baby girl was diagnosed with cancer, cut her boobs off and is healing nicely at home. I just couldn't tell him. I had no issue telling my girlfriends or my close male friends but I just couldn't tell my Dad, Pop, Father.

My stepmother has stepped up to the plate to pick the best time to tell him. Therefore, I write this today so he knows I thought of him and maybe give him understanding to why I hid "it" from him when he reads my trip report.

Please extend your energy and love to cover my Dad as he goes in for surgery today. BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Spectrum

60 days, 60 minutes, or 60 seconds. No matter the time frame I can tell you that I have been hit by the full spectrum of emotions from the language of your choosing. I honestly can't say that I've experienced each emotion and believe there are rides to be had on those upcoming tides.

Last night the tides that rolled were called change. Tomorrow would be the first change since the surgery. My Mother and Sister would leave and return to New Mexico. We will see the doc and find out about the pathology and the hard part, Lydia goes back to work and I will be alone…with myself, my wounds and my pain.

Today, 12/26/2013 at approximately 11:30 we were told the amazing news that the sentinel lymph notes taken during the surgery were negative for cancer. Yes, he said clean, clear, and on both sides. Yes we heard him correctly! He says I am progressing as expected and was pleased with the incisions and my chest shape will continue to change over the next 9 months. On monday 12/30 we will remove the drains. Until then I will have my little JP bulb drains as constant companions with their annoying pain and movement restrictions.

We are blessed and relieved. So relieved that emotion crawled at a slugs pace. We did it! We get more years and decades together! I'm exhausted today and having a hard time handling the pain but my mind and heart are almost quite. I believe they are refueling for the upcoming rides. It's the quietest space I've delved into in a long long time.

I don't want to downplay the choices we made and the resulting surgery to deface my chest, incinerate my breasts and spoil my rack. My boobs tried to kill me! We examined the options and weighed the impact to our lifestyle.  We decided and then we chose to toss the defiant little bitches off a cliff. This choice will impact me forever. I will have the scars to remind me of this 60 day developing swell and we will ride it to completion. I choose to believe "it" is done, "it" will never return and "it" will NOT run my life. All I had to do was choose to maim myself.

Now I must step back into the water and paddle. We will paddle the unknown swell of emotions and changes of the future. I may or may not have something to fill the bikini upon my chest. No matter what I have I will choose it full heartedly. This is me and I choose it. Cancer go fuck yourself and loose my return address!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Fun House Mirror

Perception is all we have, I've heard that, been told that and really believe that. Nonetheless, not many of us are aware of the perceptions that guide our lives. All the communications that I have received from my community have been amazing. I wish I could find a way to share them all. I imagine a room stuffed with bubbles filled with sayings, notes, emotions and love. These bubbles float around, viewable from all sides. Some brush aside, bump or are blown into others. Sometimes they pop. The action of the pop is in slow motion, particles of water and air make the bubble bigger than it was a split second prior. The walls of the bubble and the contents splash into my face. I blink as I work through the shock and beauty of the popping bubble with all it's smells, colors and contents. In that instant perception alters.

 "You can do this"
"You are the strongest mutha fucker I know"
"You have always amazed me with your strength"
"You are such a badass"
"You have always been sexy and strong and that isn't changing now"

Each comment speaking of strength, beauty, inspiration, and love. Not their own but mine.

If you would have asked me before this experience if I was strong I'm not sure you would have gotten a definite answer. Do I relate to myself as strong, no, but I do have strength and I am NOT weak. While in Sedona this Fall I got a new tattoo (Jan's Funky Tattoo Shop). It's of a tree on my right shoulder. I wanted a tree with defined bark and a splash of color. When the tattoo artist and I spoke we discussed the tattoo being a strong desert tree. I don't know where that came from but that is what I told her. That was the best description that I could muster. I had no idea just how strong that tree would come to be.

When I was in my first surgery the nurses and anesthesiologist inquired about the tattoo, as they nonchalantly removed my gown, tied me to the table and proceeded with their job. As the happy drugs hit my system my answer then when asked what kind of tree, was simply "a strong desert tree". I've been asked if it was a tree of life and still my only response was nope its just a strong desert tree. As I write this I pull from the comments of others and my tree to give me strength as my perception slowly shifts to relating to myself as strong evan as I feel weak.

Last night we has a small fashion show. Three days post surgery with hair a mess, but clean, JP drains hanging from their pinned place of safety on my scrub pants, lats/ribs padded a few inches out to protect the drain insertion sites and chest bare with steri strips hiding the incisions. We all pack into our brightly lit bathroom. I am carefully wrangled into cute tops purchased just for my bodashious chest. The job isn't easy as it takes two people just to get me into a top not to mention back out of it again. I watch the process in the mirror between fluffing, moving and being directed what to do.

 I can see myself in the mirror but my mind stalls, sputters and spits. No tears at this point just dismay. My mind works to focus but all I can see is a head floating above a Pink top. It's like those circus mirrors that distort your form into a laughable object. Nothing laughable as I process the image and shift my perspective toward being a strong tree.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Ahhh N Eeeek

There is so much I wish to say but I feel the narcotics are getting in the way. We are less than 48 hours out from surgery. I am home and doing well, at least that is what I'm told. Thank you to everyone for all the loving support. We could not do this without you all. I hope to write more later but at this point I just wanted to let you all know that I'm healing and we will know the final path results the day after christmas. I guess I get to open my christmas present a day late. As fast as this has been and as scary I feel some relief. I would say some weight off my chest but that is just too much of a pun, even for me. I still have a bit of concern for the results but it is more mental than full body fear. I believe it will be ok and we can move on. Apparently I was very emotional in the recovery room, which I don't remember. That is good and bad. The first emotion I remember processing post surgery was during a late night dressing change. I'd already looked down at my chest all evening and it's clear there isn't anything there but there were dressings covering my incisions. The white sterile dressings gave me almost a perfect little breast. However, during the dressing change we had to take everything off and I got to see as best I could that really there wasn't anything there but steri-strips covering my incisions. My wife was there, thank goodness, as well as a Nurse and a Nursing assistant to assist with the dressing change. I didn't feel naked at all as I sat at the edge of the bed and these ladies removed the soiled dressings. I felt cared for and loved. Then I saw the right incision, the wrinkle and it was clear as I looked back at these women that THIS was my chest and my emotion was revealed to me. I choose this! I didn't choose cancer but I chose this and that there will be more emotion in the future revealed to me at it's own choosing and at that time I will have to once again choose this. I'm not mad, I think because I choose, but it still sucks. I am sad and depressed a bit but hopeful all at once that this will be IT, no more. I choose life and cancer you can go jump off a cliff!

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Rat

Walking on the trails I powerfully rode this fall I feel the weakness inside surrounded by the strength of choice. Follow my free flow thoughts that dropped with each step forward.

Mine and my communities personal mantra this week

He will get everything, he will get all the tissue
The lymph node biopsy will indicate, as well all know
That they are clean
And the rat will be put back in the box
The rat will be put back in the cage
And this will never, ever, reoccur

The physical healing from the surgery is very, clinical, predictable, almost a known timeline and its manageable. However, the healing of the heart and mind is unknown, unpredictable, slippery so to speak. They fight against each other, tug of war, sometimes clashing and running together in the same direction with blood in their teeth. This is the hard part, the unknown part, unpredictable, yet not deadly, express able and at some points almost guide able.

I just know that I don't know and I don't know what I need. Do I need to know more? Do I need more clinical details of the physical harm, the physical healing? I don't think so.

I believe we will be ok
I believe he will get all the tissue
Everything will be gone
The rat will be put back in the box
Everything will be gone
The sentinel node biopsies
Will truly show me on paper
What I believe in my heart
That it is gone
That its not sneaking around, And then
The mental malpractice I call a rat
Will be put in a box, on a shelf
Shipped away to never be let out again BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Scratching to get out

I’m sitting in a Hospital. Every nerve is at attention and ready to flee. I’m taking on the fight but right now I just want to run, fast, long, and hard. I can’t because I’m at work. Every thing around me heightens my panic.

Every day I wake in disbelief and hope it is a nightmare. Yet this week pain in my healing breast reminds me that it is real. I look at my pathology results hoping that they were for someone else. I go to my doc appointment hoping we are wrong. I even looked on the surgery schedule to make sure my name is not on the list for Friday, wow was I wrong.

I’ve been ok at work but with each approaching day of my surgery everything at work puts me on edge. I’m not angry or short. I’m actually very generous with my patients and take time to inquire more into them and who they are doing. Not just physically but emotionally and mentally. I create mini connections all throughout my work days. Some are soothing and others make me want to get on my bike and pedal, away from my cancer.

I don’t think I’ve every felt this type of anxiety; lasting, non reactive to breath and numbing. I don’t even think I’ve ever felt this rock climbing. It might have something to do with the trust I place in the person below and that 9-11mm rope that will catch me if I falter.

My community is circling and creating a safe place but I can’t let go. I trust it will be ok in the end. I’m just beyond anxious about the trip. How do you pack for this adventure? What do you bring along to assist you? Well definitely NOT a good bra.

One friend gave me a chant for a meditation earlier I when I was freaking out and could not breathe before coming to work; I couldn’t get out of the truck. LAM (say it like LUM and rhymes with YUM) to ground my root chakra. It works for a bit and then I spin off like a top that’s lost its centrifugal force. I feel like my chest is going to explode, that everything on the inside wants to get OUT.

The mantra with all the other helpful tidbits people have given me do take some of the edge off. However, nothing takes the edge off like flat out experiencing the emotion. OK, I can’t do that at work but I can do it as I write. Could you imagine me running through the hallways screaming saying I’ve got to get out of here, get away from me with your cancer and your disease? Well I almost saw that tonight, boy is that a new experience for me.

As I type I feel like there is a vibration under my skin that I can barely contain. It wants out and now. Maybe I should watch Alien tomorrow night. I’m surprised no one has suggested that amongst all the things that have been suggested. As you read this you might find yourself thrown to give advice, please don’t. Just love me in your own unique way. Make me feel it. Make it palpable. That will support me through this change. Oh and picking me up off my knees and wiping snot off my face will also help.

Through this challenge this week I took on doing something different. I needed something that would intervene with my head and bring me to my heart, breaking the cycle. Each day I will do something, no matter how small, for someone other than me! This has been awesome and very hard to pull off. Yet in the moment of execution things get silent and the vibration changes.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Party Hats

Bring out your party hats, top hats, black tie, best dress, streamers and party favors. It's time to have a Cancer Begone Party where the guests of honor will be my boobies. I'm sorry to say that this party will have to be done on an individual basis with your own flare. Please feel free to send pics as to extravaganza that was had. I was given a diagnosis on 12/12/13 and today in our meeting with our doctor we are choosing to take action. On 12/20/13 I will undergo a bilateral mastectomy and take off my breast tissue. The physical recovery will end up being the least of our worries as the mental and emotional is an unknown. Thank you for being on this journey with us as I take charge of the rest of my future and explore the impacts. Know that we feel loved. We are numb and in shock but feeing empowered by not waiting and taking control of the only thing we can at this time.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Broken Open

I love my Wife. Each day she surprises me. Each day I love her more. This process that is occurring isn’t just occurring to me but to us. I have never felt more loved and scared.

I am holding on to a very thin line. Between the bouts of panic and clarity She is there creating a clearing for safety, love, action, partnership and the future.

She brought a book home from book club and placed it in my work bag “Broken Open How difficult Times Can Help Us Grow”. I haven’t even made it out of the prelude and I’ve found something that speaks to me. A quote, and the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful that the risk it took to blossom. The author speaks about how it was time for her to find out what she really wants.

This process can’t be pushed through or done logically. The feelings must be felt and deciphered and maybe even wagered upon. I’m an Aries; I’m pretty good at putting my head down, pushing through and suppressing that which I really feel.

I’m slowly including more people in the process so I am unable to hide, from myself. This seems to bring some calm and has things slow to a point where recognition and understanding almost occur.

I must sit with these demons and see what I must see, even while every thread of my body is in disbelief, anger and “I don’t wanna”. I need to breathe even when breath is gone. I must be willing to be broken open. Even today, four days out, what I was dead set on has morphed and I must be ok with being open to all the possibilities. Having options at this point is actually more difficult. I desperately want to hold on to that thin line and force it. The tighter I hold the safer space my Wife creates for me to let go and I hear, we will catch you, you will be ok, you can kick this and I feel loved not damaged or broken.

Mental Melee

I have waited for many things in life…

Circled items in the Sears catalog to appear under the Christmas tree
A pony and one that needs no up keep
Grades from school
The end of a day to come to a close
Traffic to clear or a light to turn green
My wedding day to walk down the isle

In all other areas I’ve been trained to NOT wait
Manifest life as I want it not as it is handed
Be in action to cause action
Bend as a reed in the wind and avoid the snap

This waiting I do now is like no other
I’ve taken that action, which can be taken
I wait for others to do their part
I in essence wait for my life

I still act but am unable to focus
I flounder in my current life, frozen to a degree
Waiting so I may either, cheer at the top of my lungs, or take the next action
which determines the amount of waiting I might have in my future

This type of waiting I wish on no one
I say take action, create it, you are in control
Well at this point I can barely control my thoughts
I plead and I beg with myself to stay positive, and wait
I plan my day to distract, and wait
I wash through panic and calm, and wait

I’m over waiting
I scream that I’m ready,
Just tell me

Now I have this hole, a physical reminder
A missing piece of my body
Missing pieces from a day
A twinge of pain
Something to heal, and wait

The physical reminder places me in an increased state of,
anxiety, disbelief, betrayal and heightened attention.

I wait, I ignore, I plead, I beg
The only action to be taken is to wait
Action is attempted,
only to fall back into a state of no movement

I want to rip at IT, claw IT, anything but wait

Written 12/11/13 9pm

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Waves

What I have been surfing these past few days must be those types of waves people talk about, aren’t they called mavericks? You know the type of wave that people hear about from around the world but very few witness and those do don’t get to live to tell about it.

Some moments I feel ok, calm and maybe in control and then it hits out of no where. The wave of disbelief, anger, confusion and despair take me under. There is nothing to do but fight for air. Sometimes after the passing of a wave there is nothing left and for an instant I experience silence. No matter what stage I find myself in I am very thankful for all those around me, especially my wife and some very humble cancer survivors who are currently in the throws of beating the big C!

Mostly I have felt like my heart is going to explode inside my chest or I have to push it from my throat just so I can breathe. I yell and scream and want to punch or kick my way out of where I am, trapped.

Why me is such a stupid question but it comes up. The list of things I’ve done that should have bought me a pass comes rushing in and then I fall. I dust myself off or my lovely wife picks me up off the floor where I’ve fallen to a heap and I wait for the next set to roll in.

The worst is I can’t sleep or yet it’s when I have fallen asleep and I wake and my mind thrashes out, teeth bared and everything is bloody. The incision wakes me and I want to scream.

I don’t want to make these decisions. I don’t want to manage a disease the rest of my life. I want it over and I want it over now. I don’t want to deal with the emotional trials that I’ve been entered into.

I wait a few more days and meet with the doctor to create a plan. Each day gets, quieter so to speak or maybe more numb. I don’t have all the information yet and my mind jumps, races, tackling ideas and decisions. I try and find out info so I will be able to ask the right questions or more importantly I try and figure out how I feel and what I want. This being the hardest part of the equation, how do I feel and what do I want.

I currently have the understanding, weather it is correct or not, that the removal of the breast tissue would halt/stop the disease. I would not have future management of the disease. I won’t know for sure if that is the case until Tuesday. However, I’ve already told the Doctor, take the damn tissue because I can’t live with the worry in the back of my mind with frequent treatments or screenings. I’m really not that attached to the tissue enough for it to kill me. Mostly I saw how I reacted to working my way through the diagnosis and the waiting and the worrying and that was crippling. My hope is to get connected to what I want/feel so that some decisions can be made this Tuesday. I’m trying to take some steps back from the situation instead of just saying cut them off now. This is of course when logic is triggered vs. pure raw emotion. Yet, as logical as I can be I feel I must claw through this sticky rawness to find me on the other side.

As the days have progressed and more since the incision, I’m discovering that I might have some attachments to that damn tissue. Ahh, the next mental mind fuck and rat race…

10:30am 12/12/13

I sit in the waiting room and stare down at the paper. Surely I can read and interpret this simple report. The report clearly states in black and white that the micro calcifications were classified as DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ). The mind stops, the heart goes into my throat and I get up and walk out. To debunk what I am reading I call my friend who is a Nurse Practitioner and ask if she will read the report since I haven’t heard from the doc. I meet her at the Library and then at 10:42 the doc calls me and we talk for 12min. These 12 minutes will change my life…

He confirms that it is indeed DCIS. He expresses that it isn’t invasive cancer, that is good, and can only come from the breast tissue. We discuss what it means, options and how difficult choosing the next step can be with DCIS. The issue with DCIS is that it can turn invasive and some forms have a higher likely hood than others but there are good manageable options. We talk a bit about how I feel and any questions I have at the moment. He confirms that we have a scheduled follow up on the 17th to discuss further options and more Q&A time. In this discussion I impart to him that I do not wish to manage this but want it gone. I don’t want radiation, lumpectomy and 5 years of estrogen blocking medications. I am not committed enough to saving the tissue to manage to have the mental and emotional damage waiting to see if it will come back, grow or damage my body through radiation and drugs. I want it out and now.

He imparts to me that he could definitely find time to do the mastectomy before the end of the year and would block time in his schedule toward the end of the week BUT that Tuesday we would discuss options and see where we are at then. He also made it clear that where he could do the mastectomy by the end of the year the possibility of doing all that is needed (consults with plastic surgeons, and more) that he saw no way to complete a reconstruction by the end of the year.

Now I move forward???

Past to almost present...

Since October I have been wading through what started as, what I hoped was the process to rule out any health issues. I never ever dreamed I would end up where I am. This post will be long to bring me up to date, somewhat. Then I hope to dig into a few topics later and do more frequent updates to avoid these long posts.

I am a healthy 42 year old female so when I mentioned to my doc that I’ve had some changes and pain in my breasts I wasn’t worried. I was more like ok let’s just get this checked out. I mean, we all know pain isn’t a sign of cancer and we all look for lumps.

First, I must step back and say this process has been everything from frustrating all the way to infuriating. I had many delays in just scheduling to get my, routine, mammogram screening. This was in part due to waiting for past films to be sent and processed into the system for the radiologist to compare.

I went in for pain and discomfort to the right breast. When I arrived I found out that my films, which we waited on, would not load into the system. Someone was kind enough to write a note about the issue with the films but that was as far as it got. A week later I was called back in to look at my left breast and I insisted there must be an error since I was concerned for my right breast. They insisted it was my left and we went through the scheduling process again. Of course we had to delay because no one did anything other than write a note to get my previous films. When arriving for my further evaluation I had to inquire into my films. The films were still not loaded into the system. Only when the radiologist got upset did we get any action around getting the films sent again but this time sent via FedEx to arrive the following day.

The doctor was hesitant to talk to me until he could compare the films. After some urging he calmly but intensely explained what he was seeing on the film. He wanted to look at the previous films and see if the same thing was present two years ago and that would have to wait until the following day. They had called me in due to a possible lump in the left breast that needed to be magnified. No worries there since upon magnification the tissue displaced and there was no lump or density on the film. However, upon magnification the Radiologist found a cluster of micro calcifications. I won’t explain in depth but when there is a cluster it is a possible indication of rapid growth. Before leaving the Radiologists indicates that we should biopsy this area but that due to the location and depth it could be very painful and suggests a surgical biopsy with anesthesia. With my mind racing I insist that I can take the pain and we schedule the next possible needle biopsy, one week away, and I push right over the fact that he is also concerned we wouldn’t get a good sample. I just wanted this done fast so I could get back on with life and set worry aside.

Now the race of my mind is off and running. I went home and tried to remember back to Nursing school what implications the micro calcifications could possibly have for this healthy 42 year old. I found lots of info on the internet and in my books, maybe not the best use of my fraying brain. The mental race cranks up a bit more and now I wait for my films to be sent, compared and interpreted.

The following day the Radiologists informs me that the same spot of tissue that they called me back in for evaluation was on the films two years ago. No answer to why I wasn’t called back in two years ago to be further evaluated on the left side. That was good news that there was no change in that tissue spot from two years ago and the mental racing slows a bit. Actually, it they had the films to compare they might not have even called since there was no change to the tissue density over two years. Then he informs me that the films are not complete and the area of tissue containing the cluster of micro calcifications is not in the film, really come on people. There is no way to know if this grouping of micro calcifications was present two years ago and or has changed in any way. Sparks fly from the gears in my mind as he informs me that a biopsy of the cluster needs to be performed. As much as I wanted to know right now what this cluster meant I asked him about the surgical biopsy vs. needle biopsy. He insisted that the biggest reason for the surgical biopsy was to insure a good sample and avoid an issue with the needle biopsy only getting skin tissue. The location was too close to the surface and nipple area.

As the Thanksgiving holiday approached causing pauses in the work week I attempt to schedule a surgical biopsy. You can’t schedule a surgical biopsy without meeting the doctor first and then you get placed on their OR schedule. At this point I’m worried, nervous and can’t believe I have to wait so long. The first available meet and greet isn’t until 12/11/13. Did I mention this started before Thanksgiving?

I can’t wait, I’m going nuts but every turn I take I get stopped. It felt like people (medical) forget we are people and we have thoughts and emotions during this process. I tried to express my upset and disbelief about the first available scheduled appointment to my PCP. She didn’t get that not knowing and the waiting felt like it was killing me. It was calmly communicated that it would be fine to wait since it wouldn’t change my prognosis.

Here I share the generosity and understanding I gained from a fellow coworker of my wife. She has gone through the process of being diagnosis with Cancer. She understood, she felt and connected to me. She jumped right into action and in a few hours got me scheduled with a general surgeon the following day 12/5. Everyone at Lydia’s work was amazing and rearranged things so she could attend my appointment, no questions asked. Not all Medical is non feeling!

The doctor was great and really got how worried I was. He tried to settle my worries by telling us that he has seen a lot of films and what he was seeing on mine didn’t concern him. He said “I’ve seen a lot and some you see on the films and it’s clear that needs to come out now but with mine he felt it was superficial enough that it was most likely due to trauma”. Upon my level of anxiety and intensity he agreed to squeeze me into his surgical schedule sooner than later. He got me scheduled the following Monday on 12/9. Wow that is great because my first meet and great with a surgeon wasn’t even going to happen until 12/11.

On 12/9 the surgical biopsy went off without a hitch, other than the grossness of moderate sedation. Now we just have to wait for pathology, no problem. The surgeon once again reassured Lydia, cuz I was out of it, that the breast tissue looked good and healthy! Yeah! However, he also informed her that in the excised tissue they found another cluster of micro calcifications. We were told that the patho results might be back Wednesday right before closing but if not then they would be back on Thursday and we could call and get them. Ok no big deal we just have to wait till Thursday.

Nothing I could do over the next few days would calm my mind and now I had this physical reminder from the surgical incision. Instead of just mental/emotional pain I now had breast pain. I had no clue that I would be impacted by an incision. I can’t even express it in words. I “patiently” waited and called the office Wednesday evening right before close. I was reassured that the nurse would call me in a few minutes but no one said if the results were in. I wait and no call occurs so I call back and find out they have closed. The darkness of the night closes in and I wait till Thursday.

The office opening time of 8am comes and goes and I receive no call. I call at nine and I’m told the nurse will call soon. I call at 10 and I’m now told the doctor will call me and my mind breaks out of its cage and goes to high ground. I can’t wait and it’s time to be in action. I’m a nurse so surely I can go pick up my results and read them. I take off for the office and request for my results. The poor receptionist tells me “I’m sorry we can’t release those because the Doctor hasn’t signed off on them, He will call you between patients.” I make a request that sooner the better because I have to work tonight. Now I get sneaky and drive to my PCP’s office, neurotic or just plain ole in action I’m not sure. I politely inquire if they possibly received my patho report this am along with the surgeon. Bingo they did so I ask for a copy. Ummmmm they gave me a copy and clearly I don’t think they read them prior to handing them over to me.

It is time...to write.

I am reactivating this blog as of today 12/14/13. I have thought a lot about writing and possibly blogging over the past few weeks. As the story unfolds you will see that I’ve been a bit occupied and possibly hoped all the drama would be for nothing. Now I’m at the point where I need to write. I need a gift to myself.

I choose this process to be a gift to me and by gaining that giving a gift to those around me. I’m attempting to navigate through the confusing landscape I call my thoughts and emotions.

I hope to go back in time and share the whole process. However, now I wish to share why I write.

I write…
because I must
because I see no other way
to get to my subconscious
because I hope and I need hope
to find silence
to gain clarity.