A Little More than Vaguely Frustrated

I left the oncologists office feeling encouraged and like I was beginning the path the end of this ugliness.

I now feel like I'm still right at the beginning of it and I'm frustrated.

I called the oncologist yesterday to get the results of my breast mammogram. My hopes were that this would pin point where we need to focus surgery and treatments.  Instead, it left more questions.

In the oncologists words.... "This is the vaguest report I've ever seen. I read it. I read it again and then I reread it." 

So, basically, there is 'something' in each breast. They can give measurements (one in the right is 5 mm - but that was all I remembered. He read it over the phone and offered to fax it but I don't have access to a fax right now. I'll pick up a copy next week) Anyhow, the descriptions of what exactly it was in each breast left more questions.
They recommended and ultrasound and if nothing could be determined by that then it's off to another, more specialized MRI.

The long and the short of it is that there is something in both my breasts that may or may no be cancer.

So we move on to my frustration with the surgeon. The oncologist handles me for chemo and radiation. But none of that happens until after the lymph nodes and any other cancer is out. My surgeon seems to be a little slow on the uptake. The only reason I know the results of the MRI are because the oncologist said to call him to find out. Otherwise I might be blissfully sadly unaware thinking that the results aren't even there yet. My surgeon does not seem to be very proactive. My thought is what the f*ck are you waiting for??  The longer we wait around sitting on our hands the more opportunity this shit has to grow and spread. Not good.

So after I got off the phone with the oncologist I called the surgeons office and made another appointment. Truly, I'm mad at myself. I had an appointment with her yesterday and she said not to bother keeping it, to wait until I heard from her office. Well, I'm not waiting anymore. She doesn't seem to realize who she has for a patient. Words used to describe me  - stubborn, control freak, impatient , so if she thinks for even the slightest minute that I'm doing this on her schedule...she's mistaken.  Sorely mistaken. I will not sit on my hands and wait.  I will do.

I'm also a little miffed that I left not one but two messages for her to call me and neither were returned. Also not acceptable. I realize she's got lots of patients and a busy schedule but she's also got my life in her hands so if she can't take 5 minutes to call me back I will be happy to ask for a new surgeon who can. Not acceptable.

So, I wait. Again. I see her next Wednesday and as with the oncologist I will go armed with a list of questions. I will also address these issues I'm having. The downside to this is that Sean will not be going with me to this appointment. It's on a scheduled work day. He's already missed so much and since I figure she's not going to tell me anything I don't already know (thanks to the oncologist) he should go to work.

I worry too about my job. Again. When we got the plan from the oncologist I emailed my union president for some advice on who to talk with from my union about this. We don't have a collective agreement yet and I worry about job protection when I have to take and extended time off. The way things are going - I may be going back in September after all, if even for a few weeks.

I don't like being in limbo. I don't like not knowing and most importantly, I don't like not having a plan. I'm a planner. It's what I do.  And yet, again, maybe I should take heart in the fact that wherever the source of this ugliness is, it's not blatantly apparent - which I would think means I caught it really really early...which would be a great thing.  I hope I'm right. I'm trying my absolute best to not take the pathology report and google. Dr. Google is bad and does nothing but scare me.

Now something a little more positive.

Yesterday we took the girls and a friend for each to Canada's Wonderland.  We haven't been there in about 5 years. The last time we went Emily was too afraid to go on most rides. We spent upwards of $200 to go and she went on about 5 rides and wanted to leave. Sean and I were unimpressed and vowed to not go back for many years.

Anyhow, now Emily is as tall as me and less fearful. Mary just made the 48" height requirement for most rides. So she was able to go on some of the big roller coasters. Mary's friend is almost Emily's height so she had no problems.

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Wonderland is one big line up, true, but all worth it. There were a lot of things we wouldn't go on, just because the lines were two hours long but I got to take Mary and her friend on their very first real roller coaster. I got to go on a few rides myself that I never thought I go on (one was a roller coaster in which you lay face down - yeah, it was a hell of a lot scarier than it looked when I was in line)  And of course, we did some of the good old standbys like the tea cups (only at Wonderland they are barrels)

I truly had fun yesterday and relaxed. I didn't think about this ugliness, even after I spent 20 minutes on the phone with the Dr.  I was just me. It was nice bit of denial. I'm hopeful that I'll still be able to get to the trailer in two weeks and enjoy a bit of the same.

And so, we move on. Hopefully there will be some written in stone answers soon and a clear path for treatment.  I don't like being frustrated.

Pin Cushion and a Plan (of sorts)

Pin Cushion. That's what I feel like at the moment. My left arm is covered in track marks and I'm sure on a bad hair day I look like a junky (and not a very good one as one of my 'tracks' is quite bruised)

They won't use my right arm for needles because of the surgery so all needles go in the left. But my veins are skinny and deep so they poke and prod and rub and strangle the life out of my arm just to get the vein to pop out.

Since Friday I've had a bone scan, another CT scan and an MRI.  And all came with needles.

I don't mind needles. They hurt but I don't look when they are going in and that makes it better. Once it's in, I'm fine.

So the bone scan entailed being injected with nuclear something or other. There  was a sign in the bathroom that said if you were injected for a nuclear test to sit when you pee. I guess they didn't want any radioactive pee splatters around the bathroom. That test wasn't so bad, much like the CT Scan only without the warm, peeing my pants feeling.

The CT scan, still a mystery as to why I had that.  The oncologist today didn't understand why I had that either. Interestingly enough, and I'm just noticing this now, I called the surgeon to call me back today and I've not heard from her. Hmmm. Fishy. I may call again tomorrow.  That was another one with contrast aka the stuff that makes your throat burn and feel like your peeing your pants

The MRI - let's talk. I was nervous about that. I'm not claustrophobic but I am under a lot of stress and things that wouldn't normally bother me are so I was concerned I might be bothered by that. Combine this with the 'why-am-I-having-this- again- CT-Scan' and the rushing from one hospital to another. Actually we have tons of  time (Ajax hospital is really nice since I was last there with Emily in 2000) and they were relatively quick with the test. We went to Timmies and WalMart and I bought Connor a copy of Despicable Me (his favorite movie).  Anyhow, I'm getting off topic. The MRI also had a contrast. But this one didn't feel like anything and they assured me that it wouldn't react with the contrast from the CT Scan.  So after what felt like an endless wait, I got my IV and was brought into the MRI room.  It had a special attachment on the bed because since this was a breast MRI I was laying face down with my boobs in holes and my head resting on this little head rest thing. (Think cow udders hanging below them)  They gave me ear plugs and slid me in.

It really wasn't that bad, the least scary of all the tests I've had so far. It was noisy but it was rhythmic, almost a white noise and it gave me time (forced me) to relax, be calm and think. I thought about how this is not going to beat me. I thought about how all these tests suck but they are a necessary evil and that they will only benefit me. And I made a mental list of what I wanted to ask the oncologist today.

I've also decided on my next tattoo. (as a funny side story, I had been thinking about this before and my friend was over and telling me about another friend of hers who had cancer and got a very similar tattoo to what I'd been thinking about)  When this is all done and over with I'm getting either a ribbon (I'd like it to be pink but I honestly don't remember if they have pink ink so if not I might go for a light purple which is the general cancer awareness colour) or possibly a daffodil. And under it it will say "survivor". I'm thinking I will get it on the inside of my right wrist.

So, on to today.

I was nervous as hell going to see the Dr. He's the expert and would be able to decipher more of the report. The thing is, he didn't have the report from the pathologist. So I made sure to tell him, we already heard back that it was cancer and were looking for a clearer picture and a plan of action.  He went to his secretary and computer and got all the info available thus far.

So, in a nutshell, he says it is most likely breast cancer. He'll know more positively when he sees the MRI report which he said I can call for tomorrow afternoon. He explained it this way. Think of the cancer as a seed. It needs fertile soil to grow. So it started in the breast but it wasn't a fertile place, that's why it's not showing up in the mammogram or by touch. But the lymph nodes were more fertile so it went there to grow.
At any rate he said we'll do surgery to remove the rest of the lymph nodes, whatever tissue in the breast is cancerous and if need be, the whole breast. He said recovery from that will be about a month. From there we move on to about 4 months of chemo (guess I'm going bald!) and then radiation.. After that it will either be another medication or a hormone treatment but it will depend on the type of breast cancer it is.

Either way, it looks like this will be a roughly 6-7 month road ahead of us. And while that seems like an eternity, it's a plan and I'm happy about that.

So, it's not all sunshine and lollipops but it wasn't the worst case scenario either and I call that a good day. I came out of it feeling good, feeling hopeful and feeling as happy as can be expected given the circumstances.

I do, now, have to figure out how I handle things on the job front. I've emailed my union rep to see where to go from here. I not only want to keep my job but I want to be able to keep my school. Fingers crossed. It's going to be a tough road economically. The benefits of our health care system is that none of this will occur at any cost to me and any medical costs I do have (medications) will be covered by Sean's insurance but with my not working, I'll only get Employment Insurance for around 20 weeks as of September (I qualify for 29 weeks of EI but since I'm on EI right now for 'lay off' those 29 weeks are counting down as of now.  And Sean will likely be taking a stress leave to be home with me to help me with going to and from treatments and appointments. My mom has got the kids. I guess Sean will take as long as he can and once he's got to go back I'll have to rely on family and friends. I know they've got my back and would drive me to and from the hospital. 

So, that's it for now.  A lot to process but today I feel great (though I'm still stressing about that pain in my sinuses) I'm feeling hopeful and strong.

I will beat this. I have to. I have too much to live for.