How to cover the past week? When nothing much is happening, it becomes difficult to write.
The steri-strips (holding me together instead of stitches, if you recall) came off last Monday. Incisions healing okay, just a bit red, mostly. There was some localized swelling most of the week, on and off, but nothing serious. Got some stretching exercises from Dr T, and for the most part, I seem to have a fairly normal range of movement in my right arm again.
It's funny, one of the stretches has you facing a wall, standing just a step back, and, with your hands together, stretched above your head, you lean into the wall. The goal is to have your armpits touch the wall. Think about that for a second. For me, at least, there is a slight obstacle to that part of me meeting up with a wall from that position. Two of them, in fact. As it should be. As it would be with anyone in my condition, now. Even if I'd had a mastectomy, they generally insert skin expanders, if you are going to be rebuilt, which most women are. Made me wonder just how long ago the article was written.
Now, if I do a similar stretch, with just the affected arm, from the side, there's a good chance my armpit can touch the wall. In fact, that stretch seems to be quite beneficial. People are funny.
Showering is still a bit tiring/challenging, what with me stubbornly insisting on doing all the usual stuff I generally did with my right hand, with my right hand, still. I personally think it's good for me, pushing my body to get back to normal. As long as I don't overdo. For instance, perhaps I should have a bit of a stretch, first thing, before I try reaching well above my head to grab something off a high shelf. Just saying.
I did get through almost the whole week last week, working half-days. I took Thursday off, as I had three appointments that day: a Dr appt for Twin1, followed closely by my dentist appt, and then later, in the afternoon, a followup surgical appt with Dr T.
Can't remember the last time I went in for a dental checkup and cleaning and was told just to come back in six months. That was nice. Also nice, about going in to the dentist, was hearing all the wonderful things they had to say about my boy. He'd been visiting their office over the course of several months, getting his teeth all fixed up, in preparation for his mission, so the whole office had been getting to know him. They were all so complimentary and sweet about him! The very sort of interaction one wants, when one meets up with adults who have met ones' children.
The followup visit was fine. Basically just looked at how the incisions were healing, went over the pathology, and had her nurse set up appointments for me with an oncologist and radiology. She didn't say as much, but I got the impression someone should have already gotten me in with an oncologist before the surgery. Which, in truth, I had wondered about, but hadn't asked. Don't know why, exactly. Just hadn't pursued the problem.
Will see the oncologist Tuesday afternoon. From what I've heard, the man is good, but none of them seem to like him much. "Smug" was one word I heard used to describe him. I've decided to give him a chance, at least meet him. But I don't generally like doctors who think they know everything. I like a more humble approach.
So, chemotherapy appears to be what's next. I guess I'm ready.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
practically normal
Woke up Monday morning feeling basically normal, but not wanting to behave as though I am.
Sure, I'm still a little stiff on the right, also numb in places (though mostly when it's swollen, which is almost all the time right now), and I'm not allowed to do any heavy lifting still, but, awake, alert, refreshed, and pretty much normal.
I convinced myself I could work half-days this week. No actual commitment intended (my office isn't asking me, either - they don't want me to push myself or come in if I'm not feeling totally ready to work), just an idea that I would try to put in 4 hrs of actual work at the office each day.
So far, that's worked out.
So far, I feel pretty good at the end of the day.
But the week isn't half over yet, so, we'll see.
Sure, I'm still a little stiff on the right, also numb in places (though mostly when it's swollen, which is almost all the time right now), and I'm not allowed to do any heavy lifting still, but, awake, alert, refreshed, and pretty much normal.
I convinced myself I could work half-days this week. No actual commitment intended (my office isn't asking me, either - they don't want me to push myself or come in if I'm not feeling totally ready to work), just an idea that I would try to put in 4 hrs of actual work at the office each day.
So far, that's worked out.
So far, I feel pretty good at the end of the day.
But the week isn't half over yet, so, we'll see.
Friday, January 20, 2012
knew it was coming
Well, it's happened. I've had enough of being at moms.
It's this HUGE house, actually larger now than it was when I was growing up here, and it's still not big enough. I can't be alone here, there isn't anywhere I can go to get away from my family, the two dogs, and my sisters elderly cat. I get that they like animals, enjoy their pets.
I, personally, am not a pet person.
Call me crazy, but I like being able to leave a package of double stuff Oreos (or triple double) sitting on the table by the couch, and have it still be there the next day. I left a closed can of honey roasted almonds on a table in the family room a couple days ago. Closed, mind you, lid tightly on, as it should be. One of two dogs in the house took a liking to it, and one of them, possibly the same one, found it later, in the back yard, open, with maybe all of a dozen almonds left in the can. How do people live like this? All the time?
(Right now, in the room above me, my mother, sister, and aunt are still discussing whether I am allowed to be upset, to be angry and yelling. And I can hear them. My kids can't figure out why I always think they should be able to hear me, at home, when I call to them from upstairs. I think if one of them were down here right now, they'd get it. Our house is about 1/4 the size of this one, and you'd think sound would carry through the vents and floors/ceilings there, just like it does here, but they're right, at home, I can't hear everything like I can here. Most of it, yes. But whole conversations? Not entirely.)
It wasn't the pet thing that did it. Not even close. When I'm my usual self, when I've had enough sleep (which I haven't - we're getting to that), I can actually be very pleasant. (If you're reading this, and thinking, "no, honey, I know you, and, you're not"? Keep that to yourself for just a minute, okay?) But everyone has their limits.
The last two nights, I haven't been able to sleep. I'm tired, definitely, but when I get into bed, I just can't seem to settle down. It's too warm with the coverlet, but just the sheet isn't quite enough. Also, I'm a side-sleeper, generally the right side, which, for obvious reasons, isn't possible right now. Left side almost works, but if I'm turned too far that way, something in the chemo port workings feels like it's jabbing me in the neck. Plus, my legs don't seem to agree with the rest of me that it's time to sleep.
Anyway, last night, I'm extra tired, probably from going to work for the first time since the surgery, and I head for bed around 10pm, which for me, having not gotten up earlier than around 9am all week, is a little early. But by midnight, I'm still awake, can't seem to get sleepy at all. And neither of the Twins has come down, so I'm alone, and I'm restless, and I can't seem to get comfortable. Not good. I NEED to sleep. (Did you know that our bodies only heal (or grow) when we sleep?) If anyone needs sleep, it's me, right now.
It's too warm, I decide, and I go to open the window, but the screen is out, so I only open it a little. Doesn't help. I usually keep my room cooler than average (one of the reasons I like a basement bedroom), but the heat hasn't gotten to me until the last two nights. I have no idea what time it was when I finally fell asleep. I'm sure I didn't sleep long enough or deeply enough, because I'm tired when I wake up.
What woke me? Oh, I remember. A text from that someone. That someone who isn't really even my friend right now, because it's too difficult for me to only be his friend. But, in any case, that's what woke me. And I was still tired, so I tried to go back to sleep, without success.
All day, I'm tired. When mom gets home from work, I'm in that "I just want to be alone" sort of mood, and the next thing I know, I'm yelling, complaining, fighting with my sister, yelling at mom, and packing up all my stuff. Somewhere in there, my Twins, who are not what you'd call close, get into it, too. Mom tried to make peace, but I'm not sure it worked.
By the time I'm done packing, I'm tired, again. And I feel terrible, emotionally drained. Even so, I can't sleep. Still.
I am not cut out for this resting and dependent business. Maybe I'll go take a walk.
It's this HUGE house, actually larger now than it was when I was growing up here, and it's still not big enough. I can't be alone here, there isn't anywhere I can go to get away from my family, the two dogs, and my sisters elderly cat. I get that they like animals, enjoy their pets.
I, personally, am not a pet person.
Call me crazy, but I like being able to leave a package of double stuff Oreos (or triple double) sitting on the table by the couch, and have it still be there the next day. I left a closed can of honey roasted almonds on a table in the family room a couple days ago. Closed, mind you, lid tightly on, as it should be. One of two dogs in the house took a liking to it, and one of them, possibly the same one, found it later, in the back yard, open, with maybe all of a dozen almonds left in the can. How do people live like this? All the time?
(Right now, in the room above me, my mother, sister, and aunt are still discussing whether I am allowed to be upset, to be angry and yelling. And I can hear them. My kids can't figure out why I always think they should be able to hear me, at home, when I call to them from upstairs. I think if one of them were down here right now, they'd get it. Our house is about 1/4 the size of this one, and you'd think sound would carry through the vents and floors/ceilings there, just like it does here, but they're right, at home, I can't hear everything like I can here. Most of it, yes. But whole conversations? Not entirely.)
It wasn't the pet thing that did it. Not even close. When I'm my usual self, when I've had enough sleep (which I haven't - we're getting to that), I can actually be very pleasant. (If you're reading this, and thinking, "no, honey, I know you, and, you're not"? Keep that to yourself for just a minute, okay?) But everyone has their limits.
The last two nights, I haven't been able to sleep. I'm tired, definitely, but when I get into bed, I just can't seem to settle down. It's too warm with the coverlet, but just the sheet isn't quite enough. Also, I'm a side-sleeper, generally the right side, which, for obvious reasons, isn't possible right now. Left side almost works, but if I'm turned too far that way, something in the chemo port workings feels like it's jabbing me in the neck. Plus, my legs don't seem to agree with the rest of me that it's time to sleep.
Anyway, last night, I'm extra tired, probably from going to work for the first time since the surgery, and I head for bed around 10pm, which for me, having not gotten up earlier than around 9am all week, is a little early. But by midnight, I'm still awake, can't seem to get sleepy at all. And neither of the Twins has come down, so I'm alone, and I'm restless, and I can't seem to get comfortable. Not good. I NEED to sleep. (Did you know that our bodies only heal (or grow) when we sleep?) If anyone needs sleep, it's me, right now.
It's too warm, I decide, and I go to open the window, but the screen is out, so I only open it a little. Doesn't help. I usually keep my room cooler than average (one of the reasons I like a basement bedroom), but the heat hasn't gotten to me until the last two nights. I have no idea what time it was when I finally fell asleep. I'm sure I didn't sleep long enough or deeply enough, because I'm tired when I wake up.
What woke me? Oh, I remember. A text from that someone. That someone who isn't really even my friend right now, because it's too difficult for me to only be his friend. But, in any case, that's what woke me. And I was still tired, so I tried to go back to sleep, without success.
All day, I'm tired. When mom gets home from work, I'm in that "I just want to be alone" sort of mood, and the next thing I know, I'm yelling, complaining, fighting with my sister, yelling at mom, and packing up all my stuff. Somewhere in there, my Twins, who are not what you'd call close, get into it, too. Mom tried to make peace, but I'm not sure it worked.
By the time I'm done packing, I'm tired, again. And I feel terrible, emotionally drained. Even so, I can't sleep. Still.
I am not cut out for this resting and dependent business. Maybe I'll go take a walk.
pathology results
Got the final pathology results from the lumpectomy yesterday. The margins and lymph nodes are clear, no cancer.
This means, basically, they got it in time, it hadn't spread to anywhere else.
I will still have radiation and chemo, because of the grade of cancer. How long, and what kind of chemo, I still don't know.
I have an appointment with Dr T on Thursday, and I should learn all sorts of things then.
This means, basically, they got it in time, it hadn't spread to anywhere else.
I will still have radiation and chemo, because of the grade of cancer. How long, and what kind of chemo, I still don't know.
I have an appointment with Dr T on Thursday, and I should learn all sorts of things then.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
showers and other awesome things
Can I just say? Showers are awesome!
I have to keep reminding myself to use my left hand for things like turning the water on and off, and picking up full bottles of liquid soap, and there are places I can't quite reach, I'm sure, but I still say, showers are freakin' awesome!
Just as awesome: dressing myself. I know it was only for a few days, but it was difficult for me, having my mom and others help me to dress, and to wash. (Yes, I did bathe, in a very shallow bath, avoiding my chest and all the bandages. I figured no bathing applied mainly to the area they messed with, which was all above my ribcage, and sometimes, you just need a bath.) So I was thrilled to be showering and dressing all on my own. I even fastened my own bra, in the usual way, behind my back.
Later, I figured out how to put my coat on without assistance (gimpy arm first). Pretty proud of myself for that one.
Still having some swelling, on the right side. The nurse told me to wrap the area in an ace bandage, and use ice. So we wrapped me up, and then mom pulled out her Halloween t-shirt, a snug fitting, long sleeved shirt, made to look like allover tattoos, neck to wrists. This was to help compress my upper arm. Kind of awesome. And it helped. Much more comfortable tonight.
Not so awesome: still numb in the underarm area. Really hoping this isn't permanent nerve damage. It didn't show up until the day after surgery, if I remember correctly, so I'm guessing this is more due to the swelling than anything that might have happened during surgery. However, nerves are tiny, and hard to avoid when cutting stuff, surgically speaking, so, it's possible the numbness could continue. I'm just really hoping that's not the case. It's annoying, knowing I'm touching my skin, but not feeling that sensation on the skin itself.
Nothing I can do about it, so, I should stop thinking about it. Possibly. Nerves take forever to grow back, so, it is what it is.
Overall, though, things are looking up!
I have to keep reminding myself to use my left hand for things like turning the water on and off, and picking up full bottles of liquid soap, and there are places I can't quite reach, I'm sure, but I still say, showers are freakin' awesome!
Just as awesome: dressing myself. I know it was only for a few days, but it was difficult for me, having my mom and others help me to dress, and to wash. (Yes, I did bathe, in a very shallow bath, avoiding my chest and all the bandages. I figured no bathing applied mainly to the area they messed with, which was all above my ribcage, and sometimes, you just need a bath.) So I was thrilled to be showering and dressing all on my own. I even fastened my own bra, in the usual way, behind my back.
Later, I figured out how to put my coat on without assistance (gimpy arm first). Pretty proud of myself for that one.
Still having some swelling, on the right side. The nurse told me to wrap the area in an ace bandage, and use ice. So we wrapped me up, and then mom pulled out her Halloween t-shirt, a snug fitting, long sleeved shirt, made to look like allover tattoos, neck to wrists. This was to help compress my upper arm. Kind of awesome. And it helped. Much more comfortable tonight.
Not so awesome: still numb in the underarm area. Really hoping this isn't permanent nerve damage. It didn't show up until the day after surgery, if I remember correctly, so I'm guessing this is more due to the swelling than anything that might have happened during surgery. However, nerves are tiny, and hard to avoid when cutting stuff, surgically speaking, so, it's possible the numbness could continue. I'm just really hoping that's not the case. It's annoying, knowing I'm touching my skin, but not feeling that sensation on the skin itself.
Nothing I can do about it, so, I should stop thinking about it. Possibly. Nerves take forever to grow back, so, it is what it is.
Overall, though, things are looking up!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
bandages off
I just removed the gauze bandages. It was oddly unsettling. I actually feel a bit ill.
I can shower now, but I'm going to wait a bit, until I feel a little more myself.
Maybe I'll watch a little Drop Dead Diva to cheer me up first. Love that show! It's so upbeat and positive, and I need that right now.
(The steri-strips stay on for about another week. Those are there instead of stitches, holding the incisions together. So I still look a little "Frankenstein" in parts.)
I can shower now, but I'm going to wait a bit, until I feel a little more myself.
Maybe I'll watch a little Drop Dead Diva to cheer me up first. Love that show! It's so upbeat and positive, and I need that right now.
(The steri-strips stay on for about another week. Those are there instead of stitches, holding the incisions together. So I still look a little "Frankenstein" in parts.)
BRCA results
The results are back on the genetic test.
NEGATIVE
I do not have the "cancer gene".
Basically, this means that my cancer was/is random, and I have no more chance of getting any further cancer, of any kind, than anyone else.
Pathology results (test results on the tumor, the lymph nodes, the margins on the tumor (which should be healthy, if the tumor was contained)) are still pending. I should know soon.
NEGATIVE
I do not have the "cancer gene".
Basically, this means that my cancer was/is random, and I have no more chance of getting any further cancer, of any kind, than anyone else.
Pathology results (test results on the tumor, the lymph nodes, the margins on the tumor (which should be healthy, if the tumor was contained)) are still pending. I should know soon.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
today
After breakfast, the boys and mom took off on errands, and I sat in the living room chatting with my sister. UPS came, delivering a package from my brother: a stylus for my kindle! Seriously awesome for me, since touch-screens don't always respond to me. Dunno why, they just don't. Then flowers came from a client (I love that I have clients like that!), and, it was a very nice morning/early afternoon.
Then, in between phone calls and texts for work (which I was totally up for), I dressed myself (which may not sound like much, but I couldn't do it yesterday) and went for a walk. Just a short one, down the street and around the church park at the bottom, then back home.
Once I was home again, my underarm started to complain at me. Too much activity, I guess. So now I'm sitting on the couch, watching TV, with my arm propped up and an ice pack tucked under it.
Ups and downs. All part of the package.
good morning?
Woke up feeling really good, physically, but remembering a dream that was unsettling. First dream I remember having since before the surgery.
Not clear on any details, but, I was waking up, in the same bed, here at my parents. Still with my incisions and bandages, like now, but we'd been in an accident, and Twin1 was dead. I had the impression I'd been driving, maybe it was my fault, but they weren't sure about that. And it seemed like they thought I was being selfish because I was complaining about my chest, and the port site itching. And my boy was gone.
As soon as I was awake enough, I called out to Twin1, over on the cot, to make sure he was there, told him about the dream. Glad it was him in there with me, instead of his brother, in that moment.
Weird.
I do feel good today. Will go for a walk in a bit, when mom gets back with the Twins. They went out to run errands, pick up a few things from home. Should be back soon.
Not clear on any details, but, I was waking up, in the same bed, here at my parents. Still with my incisions and bandages, like now, but we'd been in an accident, and Twin1 was dead. I had the impression I'd been driving, maybe it was my fault, but they weren't sure about that. And it seemed like they thought I was being selfish because I was complaining about my chest, and the port site itching. And my boy was gone.
As soon as I was awake enough, I called out to Twin1, over on the cot, to make sure he was there, told him about the dream. Glad it was him in there with me, instead of his brother, in that moment.
Weird.
I do feel good today. Will go for a walk in a bit, when mom gets back with the Twins. They went out to run errands, pick up a few things from home. Should be back soon.
Monday, January 16, 2012
housefull
It's been an interesting weekend here at the manor.
We knew I'd be here, with the twins, to ease my recovery. Then, B*"s new nephew* was being life-flighted to Primary Childrens, from Idaho, and her SIL was in serious condition, so all-of-a-sudden, my niece needed taking care of while her daddy went to work, and they came here. So, I had my 3-yr-old niece to keep me company Saturday. Mom was ready to coax her away anytime I said, but, she was sweet and entertaining, and not too energetic, so I let her stay with me. She played on the bed (an old-fashioned four-poster), ate my treats, nibbled her lunch, and then fell asleep, leaned up against my legs, propped up on a pillow, while watching James & the Giant Peach. She was out for at least four hours, which is unusual for her.
Add to that the already planned b-day celebrations for Sunday, for one brother and his eldest daughter, which meant the arrival of all the other local siblings and their respective families, (including one elderly cat) most of whom stayed the night, and it was a busy household. Fun, and, plenty of people to take care of me, but we ran short of beds.
Speaking of beds, I've had one twin sleeping on a camp cot in my room every night ( they trade off) and at least one adult-type person in the room with me all the time. I was a little unsteady on my feet at first, and I still can't open a pill bottle on my own. Not to mention, we can't find the DVD remote, so, there's plenty for them to do.
Having a large family was a bit difficult on the beginning end of things, what with all the phone calls and everything, but now? It's a good thing.
*new nephew is now off the respirator, so things are looking up for him.
We knew I'd be here, with the twins, to ease my recovery. Then, B*"s new nephew* was being life-flighted to Primary Childrens, from Idaho, and her SIL was in serious condition, so all-of-a-sudden, my niece needed taking care of while her daddy went to work, and they came here. So, I had my 3-yr-old niece to keep me company Saturday. Mom was ready to coax her away anytime I said, but, she was sweet and entertaining, and not too energetic, so I let her stay with me. She played on the bed (an old-fashioned four-poster), ate my treats, nibbled her lunch, and then fell asleep, leaned up against my legs, propped up on a pillow, while watching James & the Giant Peach. She was out for at least four hours, which is unusual for her.
Add to that the already planned b-day celebrations for Sunday, for one brother and his eldest daughter, which meant the arrival of all the other local siblings and their respective families, (including one elderly cat) most of whom stayed the night, and it was a busy household. Fun, and, plenty of people to take care of me, but we ran short of beds.
Speaking of beds, I've had one twin sleeping on a camp cot in my room every night ( they trade off) and at least one adult-type person in the room with me all the time. I was a little unsteady on my feet at first, and I still can't open a pill bottle on my own. Not to mention, we can't find the DVD remote, so, there's plenty for them to do.
Having a large family was a bit difficult on the beginning end of things, what with all the phone calls and everything, but now? It's a good thing.
*new nephew is now off the respirator, so things are looking up for him.
itchy
Ace bandage is off, I'm nearly out of Lortab, and all my incisions are itchy. Not clear if that's the sticky tape, or the itch of healing, but it's a tad annoying. Ice packs are already a constant presence. Fridge pack might be a more accurate description. Rotating three packs isn't quite enough time for them to totally re-freeze.
Geez, I'm a regular ol' ray o' sunshine this morning.
Did I mention? OW.
Still swollen on the right, but I think it's gone down some.
On the bright side, I'm definitely perkier, on the right. Dr T had to pull a little flesh over to sort of fill in where she removed the tumor. Getting dressed could be interesting until I figure that out.
Geez, I'm a regular ol' ray o' sunshine this morning.
Did I mention? OW.
Still swollen on the right, but I think it's gone down some.
On the bright side, I'm definitely perkier, on the right. Dr T had to pull a little flesh over to sort of fill in where she removed the tumor. Getting dressed could be interesting until I figure that out.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
all the love
Friday, as we drove to the hospital, mom says that my brother J (the one in Singapore) sent me something. Something, he said, to keep me company while I recuperate. It arrived Thursday, but she hadn't opened it, so no idea what it was, and she'd forgot to mention it the night before. Thursday night had been a bit of a rush. I'd worked late, trying to get that one more thing done, the way you do, and then I hadn't packed for moms, or done much of anything in the way of prepping. Dumb.
It was nearly 10pm before we got to moms, where my dad and BIL were waiting to give me a blessing. I had dad do the blessing this time, and it was short, to the point. I felt calm and ready.
Back to Friday. I didn't forget there was a package waiting for me, and demanded it as soon as I was settled on the window seat in the living room. Mom helped to open the box, and...it was a Kindle Fire! With a nice black, classy cover to go with it. Awesome.
I start fiddling with it right away. It'll need charging, and I'll have to get it set up to remember me on various sites, like the blog, and facebook, so I can do stuff like I'm doing now. But, basically, you can all thank my bro for me being able to get updates out there so easily. Sure, I've got my new android phone, but, the Kindle has a much bigger screen, and that makes all the difference.
That was gift of love number one.
I'm only a few minutes into playing with the thing (including reading all the encouraging posts and comments, and seeing all the great pics of whole families dressed head-to-toe in pink, on facebook), when the doorbell rings. Flowers, gorgeous lilies with pale pink fat roses, in a beautiful square vase (I love a square vase!), from my book club gals. The scent is amazing! And the note, which my family fights over, for the privilege of reading it aloud to me, is incredibly sweet.
So much love, so immediately there for me. And it just keeps coming. Phone calls (not too many), texts, more comments and messages on facebook, cookies from a friend, and more flowers. These, from my ex-husband, the twins father, who is in WY, in law school, and has been so very sweet and caring. The note with these flowers (daisies, with smallish pink roses, the kind with ruffled edges in a darker pink, and also in a square vase) says, "To the strongest woman I know".
There aren't words enough to express how much it all means to me. Thank you, to all my friends and family. I couldn't do this without you.
It was nearly 10pm before we got to moms, where my dad and BIL were waiting to give me a blessing. I had dad do the blessing this time, and it was short, to the point. I felt calm and ready.
Back to Friday. I didn't forget there was a package waiting for me, and demanded it as soon as I was settled on the window seat in the living room. Mom helped to open the box, and...it was a Kindle Fire! With a nice black, classy cover to go with it. Awesome.
I start fiddling with it right away. It'll need charging, and I'll have to get it set up to remember me on various sites, like the blog, and facebook, so I can do stuff like I'm doing now. But, basically, you can all thank my bro for me being able to get updates out there so easily. Sure, I've got my new android phone, but, the Kindle has a much bigger screen, and that makes all the difference.
That was gift of love number one.
I'm only a few minutes into playing with the thing (including reading all the encouraging posts and comments, and seeing all the great pics of whole families dressed head-to-toe in pink, on facebook), when the doorbell rings. Flowers, gorgeous lilies with pale pink fat roses, in a beautiful square vase (I love a square vase!), from my book club gals. The scent is amazing! And the note, which my family fights over, for the privilege of reading it aloud to me, is incredibly sweet.
So much love, so immediately there for me. And it just keeps coming. Phone calls (not too many), texts, more comments and messages on facebook, cookies from a friend, and more flowers. These, from my ex-husband, the twins father, who is in WY, in law school, and has been so very sweet and caring. The note with these flowers (daisies, with smallish pink roses, the kind with ruffled edges in a darker pink, and also in a square vase) says, "To the strongest woman I know".
There aren't words enough to express how much it all means to me. Thank you, to all my friends and family. I couldn't do this without you.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
BLUE
On the way home, I'm hungry, still, and trying to think what appeals to me. Wendy's? Not quite right. Maybe pizza? Oooh, I know, I want the chicken cordon bleu, and maybe some spinach alfredo while we're at it. We'll order as soon as we get home to moms.
The minute I'm in the house, I need to use the bathroom (good sign). I slowly make my way in there, and...I'm startled by the brightness and intensity of the BLUE. This isn't what I'd call slight. It's like someone just put in a new tidy-bowl, or dumped in blue koolaid.
For the rest of the day, every time I visit the bathroom, I have two thoughts: Windex, and (in the voice and accent of Inigo Montoya) I am not left-handed! (TMI? Too bad.) All. Day. Long.
The minute I'm in the house, I need to use the bathroom (good sign). I slowly make my way in there, and...I'm startled by the brightness and intensity of the BLUE. This isn't what I'd call slight. It's like someone just put in a new tidy-bowl, or dumped in blue koolaid.
For the rest of the day, every time I visit the bathroom, I have two thoughts: Windex, and (in the voice and accent of Inigo Montoya) I am not left-handed! (TMI? Too bad.) All. Day. Long.
post-op
Last thing I remember, I was watching the bubbles in the tube for my IV after they put the sleepy meds in, and the anesthetist was telling the twins they should ask me anything, I'd answer, and if not truthful, I'd at least be funny.
Then I was waking up, and the place where the tumor used to be hurt like the dickens. So I said, "Ow." Which, if you're me, with my high pain tolerance, is saying something.
When I'm awake enough, they wheel me to post-op and my family comes back in from the waiting room. I'm still saying "ow", and both mom and B are telling the nurse that if I'm telling them it hurts, I need something, NOW. But the nurse, she says I look too pale, like I'm in trouble, even, and she reaches for the oxygen. They talk her down, remind her I had the blue dye, and I'm naturally pale. So she says if I can keep something down (looks at me dubiously) then she'll bring my meds, but I have to eat first. I'm only half awake, and in pain, but she dumps a selection of cookies and crackers on my tray, and asks if I want juice, quickly running down a list of what they have. I choose cran-raspberry, and the graham crackers.
Twin1 reads me a chapter from the Book of Mormon (he's prepping to serve an LDS mission, and nearly done) to distract me, while he feeds me and gives me sips of juice. I don't feel at all nauseated, but until that nurse sees proof of that, I'm not getting any pain meds, so I eat and drink, as requested, in between mumblings of pain, mixed with occasional swears. Takes a lot for me to resort to swears. I tell the room in general that this is much worse than childbirth or anything that came after.
Finally, the nurse is convinced I'm not going to be sick, and she lets me have one Lortab, and gets me an ice pack to help take the edge off. In 1/2 an hour, if I think I still need it, I can have the other Lortab. Longest half hour of my life.
While we wait for it to kick in, I get Twin2 to come out of the corner and talk to me while he feeds me Lorna Doons, and gives me the rest of the juice. Twin2 is the stoic. Tends to keep stuff in, block things, and I want him to at least participate. He's a good boy, just not comfortable with strong emotions. He loves me. This is just hard for him.
Just before 2pm, after I've finished off two juices, a cup of water, and everything but the fig newtons, they decide I'm functioning well enough to go home. We gather up our belongings, send the boys out to the car, and get me up, dressed, and into the wheelchair for the short trip out to the car.
Then I was waking up, and the place where the tumor used to be hurt like the dickens. So I said, "Ow." Which, if you're me, with my high pain tolerance, is saying something.
When I'm awake enough, they wheel me to post-op and my family comes back in from the waiting room. I'm still saying "ow", and both mom and B are telling the nurse that if I'm telling them it hurts, I need something, NOW. But the nurse, she says I look too pale, like I'm in trouble, even, and she reaches for the oxygen. They talk her down, remind her I had the blue dye, and I'm naturally pale. So she says if I can keep something down (looks at me dubiously) then she'll bring my meds, but I have to eat first. I'm only half awake, and in pain, but she dumps a selection of cookies and crackers on my tray, and asks if I want juice, quickly running down a list of what they have. I choose cran-raspberry, and the graham crackers.
Twin1 reads me a chapter from the Book of Mormon (he's prepping to serve an LDS mission, and nearly done) to distract me, while he feeds me and gives me sips of juice. I don't feel at all nauseated, but until that nurse sees proof of that, I'm not getting any pain meds, so I eat and drink, as requested, in between mumblings of pain, mixed with occasional swears. Takes a lot for me to resort to swears. I tell the room in general that this is much worse than childbirth or anything that came after.
Finally, the nurse is convinced I'm not going to be sick, and she lets me have one Lortab, and gets me an ice pack to help take the edge off. In 1/2 an hour, if I think I still need it, I can have the other Lortab. Longest half hour of my life.
While we wait for it to kick in, I get Twin2 to come out of the corner and talk to me while he feeds me Lorna Doons, and gives me the rest of the juice. Twin2 is the stoic. Tends to keep stuff in, block things, and I want him to at least participate. He's a good boy, just not comfortable with strong emotions. He loves me. This is just hard for him.
Just before 2pm, after I've finished off two juices, a cup of water, and everything but the fig newtons, they decide I'm functioning well enough to go home. We gather up our belongings, send the boys out to the car, and get me up, dressed, and into the wheelchair for the short trip out to the car.
surgery - what little I know
Everything went as expected/hoped. Port went in, tumor came out, 2-4 lymph nodes, too. Tests came out negative, and they let me wake up. Couldn't have gone better.
Family went out for breakfast at some point, I understand. Perhaps they'll have some stories to share later?
Family went out for breakfast at some point, I understand. Perhaps they'll have some stories to share later?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Pre-Op
Up obscenely early. Realized I forgot the conditioner, curly hair unhappy with that. Used aloe instead. Last shower I would be having for 3-4 days, and it was unsatisfactory.
Check in on time, but they accidentally have me change into my gown and paper shorts before sending me to nuclear for my dye injection, so they had to wheel me down there and create extra paperwork for themselves. In nuclear she tells me that they won't be numbing me first; they feel one needle stick is better than two, and it's such a small amount ... And by the way, we will be sticking that needle into the most sensitive area of the breast, twice. (Clearly this was thought up by a man.) Also, it may sting. (ummm, yeah. It does)
Back to pre-op, and after various bits of business, they brought my family back. All of them: mom, the twins, B, and my 9 year old grand-niece, dressed in a preponderance of pinks. Dr. T is still in with her first surgery of the morning, but we were on schedule.
When Dr. T comes in, she meets the family, and explains she will be adding a blue dye to aid in tracking which lymph nodes to remove, says this likely will make me look a little pale and blueish, and later, as it exits my system, it will make said exiting fluid greenish. She goes over the MRI and extra mammogram results again to make sure I understood, and then goes over the schedule and timing of the surgery: 2.5 hours total, they do the port first which takes the bulk of the time, then they will remove the mass and 2-4 lymph nodes, test them, and if the tests are negative, we are done and I get to wake up and go home.
Check in on time, but they accidentally have me change into my gown and paper shorts before sending me to nuclear for my dye injection, so they had to wheel me down there and create extra paperwork for themselves. In nuclear she tells me that they won't be numbing me first; they feel one needle stick is better than two, and it's such a small amount ... And by the way, we will be sticking that needle into the most sensitive area of the breast, twice. (Clearly this was thought up by a man.) Also, it may sting. (ummm, yeah. It does)
Back to pre-op, and after various bits of business, they brought my family back. All of them: mom, the twins, B, and my 9 year old grand-niece, dressed in a preponderance of pinks. Dr. T is still in with her first surgery of the morning, but we were on schedule.
When Dr. T comes in, she meets the family, and explains she will be adding a blue dye to aid in tracking which lymph nodes to remove, says this likely will make me look a little pale and blueish, and later, as it exits my system, it will make said exiting fluid greenish. She goes over the MRI and extra mammogram results again to make sure I understood, and then goes over the schedule and timing of the surgery: 2.5 hours total, they do the port first which takes the bulk of the time, then they will remove the mass and 2-4 lymph nodes, test them, and if the tests are negative, we are done and I get to wake up and go home.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
pre-surgery
Went in for lab work and x-rays this morning. Normal, pre-surgery stuff, as I understand. And they'll take more blood tomorrow, just before surgery, for all those reasons they take your blood when you come in for anything in a hospital.
Won't know what time my surgery is until later today. Will post that when I know it.
We're only allowed 2 adults in the waiting area, because there's only that much room in the inner rooms, so, the twins will either have to wait in the outer waiting area, or trade off with mom and B, or maybe, depending on the time of day, dash off for lunch or something. But, even without B, who does want to be there, we could have had only one of them there, and, how would you choose? You can't.
Won't know what time my surgery is until later today. Will post that when I know it.
We're only allowed 2 adults in the waiting area, because there's only that much room in the inner rooms, so, the twins will either have to wait in the outer waiting area, or trade off with mom and B, or maybe, depending on the time of day, dash off for lunch or something. But, even without B, who does want to be there, we could have had only one of them there, and, how would you choose? You can't.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
good-as-it-gets news
My MRI and additional mammogram yesterday went fine, except that I did have a mild reaction to the contrast. Scratchy throat, almost sneezed, and then my nose ran for the rest of the test. So if they ever have to give me that contrast again, I'll need to be dosed with Benadryl.
Mammogram results: Radiologist says that the other spots are scattered, small, and haven't changed since last week, so, he feels we can just keep an eye on them. Dr T agrees, and we'll look at them again in six months.
MRI results: no new spots, no changes, no surprises, so we will proceed as planned with the lumpectomy.
Surgery is Friday the 13th. I've always had good luck with 13.
My sis set up a text group for my family on my phone, and I set up another with the main contacts for my other groups: work, book club, Fab Fibers, and other friends.
I have, finally, talked to the last of my seven siblings, so now, I can do updates and news by text.
I will do my best to keep this blog up to date as we go along, with some help from my mom and sis when needed.
Mammogram results: Radiologist says that the other spots are scattered, small, and haven't changed since last week, so, he feels we can just keep an eye on them. Dr T agrees, and we'll look at them again in six months.
MRI results: no new spots, no changes, no surprises, so we will proceed as planned with the lumpectomy.
Surgery is Friday the 13th. I've always had good luck with 13.
My sis set up a text group for my family on my phone, and I set up another with the main contacts for my other groups: work, book club, Fab Fibers, and other friends.
I have, finally, talked to the last of my seven siblings, so now, I can do updates and news by text.
I will do my best to keep this blog up to date as we go along, with some help from my mom and sis when needed.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
meeting the surgeon
Mom came with me, to be another set of eyes and ears, and to drive, in case it was too much for me emotionally.
We had to wait ages, and I was glad I had my knitting with me. I started this pair of socks the day I had the biopsy, and before I was done at the surgeon, I was close to starting the heels. Not their fault, the wait. They'd had an older lady in one of the rooms, filling out forms, and she needed to be there. Once she was done, we were in and everything went quickly.
Dr T comes highly recommended. She's thorough (very much), and personal, and we both liked her. I personally know one other gal who was under her care, for the same thing, recently, and she would recommend Dr T in a heartbeat.
First, her assistant took down some vitals and did a cursory exam. Then Dr T came in, talked with me, examined me, thoroughly, and also took a look at the mass with an ultrasound. The mass is about and inch in diameter, irregular, and close to the surface. She called it medium-sized. My lymph nodes aren't showing any signs of swelling, tenderness, or anything else, so we don't expect to find any cancer there, which is good.
We then went over the various options, and she told me what she recommended (lumpectomy), and that, due to the grade of cancer, there would be radiation and chemo to follow. The types of chemo are still to be determined, as we're still waiting on the receptor results.
She set up an MRI for Tuesday, the 10th, and another mammogram to take another look at some small calcified spots on the left breast.
I decided to do the genetic test, BRCA, as we do have a family history of breast cancer, on my mothers side, and other cancers in both sides. Results won't be back for a few weeks. Basically that will just tell us if we are actually predisposed to cancer, or if this just happened.
We had to wait ages, and I was glad I had my knitting with me. I started this pair of socks the day I had the biopsy, and before I was done at the surgeon, I was close to starting the heels. Not their fault, the wait. They'd had an older lady in one of the rooms, filling out forms, and she needed to be there. Once she was done, we were in and everything went quickly.
Dr T comes highly recommended. She's thorough (very much), and personal, and we both liked her. I personally know one other gal who was under her care, for the same thing, recently, and she would recommend Dr T in a heartbeat.
First, her assistant took down some vitals and did a cursory exam. Then Dr T came in, talked with me, examined me, thoroughly, and also took a look at the mass with an ultrasound. The mass is about and inch in diameter, irregular, and close to the surface. She called it medium-sized. My lymph nodes aren't showing any signs of swelling, tenderness, or anything else, so we don't expect to find any cancer there, which is good.
We then went over the various options, and she told me what she recommended (lumpectomy), and that, due to the grade of cancer, there would be radiation and chemo to follow. The types of chemo are still to be determined, as we're still waiting on the receptor results.
She set up an MRI for Tuesday, the 10th, and another mammogram to take another look at some small calcified spots on the left breast.
I decided to do the genetic test, BRCA, as we do have a family history of breast cancer, on my mothers side, and other cancers in both sides. Results won't be back for a few weeks. Basically that will just tell us if we are actually predisposed to cancer, or if this just happened.
Monday, January 9, 2012
getting the results
Thursday morning, Jan 5, I check my phone as I unplug the charger (I've been using it a lot), and there's nothing, so I go about my morning. I check it again just before I get in the shower, but still, nothing.
I check again, after I'm dressed, but not fully ready yet, and there is a missed call and a voicemail. My doctor had called an hour earlier, according to my phone, and said he had the results. I call him back immediately, explaining that it was on silent, but I don't know why I didn't see the call until now.
He makes me write it down: Grade 3* invasive ductal carcinoma.
He asks me if I'm alone, or is there someone with me. I say that my boys (twins, 19 yrs old) are asleep still, but I can call my mom. He is concerned that I'm not really hearing what he's saying, that I'm not taking it in. But I am. I assure him that yes, I will call my mom, and that I'm fine, it's okay. He says, no, it's not okay. I say it could be worse. He says, no, actually, it couldn't.
I'm not sure how to explain to him that, as I'm still breathing, and he hasn't told me they can't do anything about it, that I am, in fact, fine. How do I explain that I know it won't kill me? It isn't logical, and, yes, I could be wrong. But I don't think I am. He tells me that the surgeons office should call me soon to set up an appointment for later that day, and to call him if I haven't heard from them by 3pm.
I call mom, tell her what I know, and decide that I'll go to work.
The surgeons office calls me almost immediately, and we exchange information, and set up the appointment for later that day. I call mom and ask if she'll go with me for that, and drive, which of course she will.
On my way to work, I call another friend - one that worries, so, I hadn't told her anything yet. She reacts just about as I expected, wants to come over right away, etc. I calm her down, tell her I'll call her again later, and go to work, where I'll spend the next few hours talking to various people in the office to arrange for taking care of my clients while I'm gone.
*this is not the same as stage - they won't know that until after they remove it
I check again, after I'm dressed, but not fully ready yet, and there is a missed call and a voicemail. My doctor had called an hour earlier, according to my phone, and said he had the results. I call him back immediately, explaining that it was on silent, but I don't know why I didn't see the call until now.
He makes me write it down: Grade 3* invasive ductal carcinoma.
He asks me if I'm alone, or is there someone with me. I say that my boys (twins, 19 yrs old) are asleep still, but I can call my mom. He is concerned that I'm not really hearing what he's saying, that I'm not taking it in. But I am. I assure him that yes, I will call my mom, and that I'm fine, it's okay. He says, no, it's not okay. I say it could be worse. He says, no, actually, it couldn't.
I'm not sure how to explain to him that, as I'm still breathing, and he hasn't told me they can't do anything about it, that I am, in fact, fine. How do I explain that I know it won't kill me? It isn't logical, and, yes, I could be wrong. But I don't think I am. He tells me that the surgeons office should call me soon to set up an appointment for later that day, and to call him if I haven't heard from them by 3pm.
I call mom, tell her what I know, and decide that I'll go to work.
The surgeons office calls me almost immediately, and we exchange information, and set up the appointment for later that day. I call mom and ask if she'll go with me for that, and drive, which of course she will.
On my way to work, I call another friend - one that worries, so, I hadn't told her anything yet. She reacts just about as I expected, wants to come over right away, etc. I calm her down, tell her I'll call her again later, and go to work, where I'll spend the next few hours talking to various people in the office to arrange for taking care of my clients while I'm gone.
*this is not the same as stage - they won't know that until after they remove it
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Biopsy
Mon, Jan 2, I went in for my mammogram. For some reason, the gal that called me for pre-registration told me to go in really early. It seems that all the patients that day were either late or early - some mix-up or other. They worked me in, since I was there.
This wasn't my first mammogram. I have a family history of breast cancer, from my mothers family, so I'd been there before. When I was younger, they'd make me wait, right there in the waiting area, for them to process the films. I found this annoying, as I was only there as a matter of routine, and, I'm sorry to say, this made me less eager to schedule another after I'd been a few times. So I'd let it go for a while. There is no excuse for that, but, that's what happened.
At any rate, I knew they'd want to add a biopsy to my day as soon as they'd seen the lump (which I'd come to think of as a large mass), and of course, the minute she started the ultrasound, she tells me the doctor is already on his way to see this himself. When he arrived, he asked if I wanted to do the needle biopsy now, or the next day. I thought now would be good.
Local anesthetic, because this lump is near the surface, and in an area not usually covered by my bra. In fact, it's an area not always covered by clothing - the upper left area of my right breast. The eventual scars, I'm thinking, may not be easy to hide.
The doctor cleans me with something dyed blue, so they know for sure where they've cleaned, and injects two different things to numb the area. I have a high pain tolerance, so this just stings a little. He offers to show me the biopsy needle, but I am content just to hear what it's going to sound like as it punches a hole and takes a sample. I'm not bothered by needles, but, what I can see out of the corner of my eye is enough to satisfy my curiosity. He makes a small incision through which to insert the needle, then takes three samples, guided by the ultrasound, from three slightly different areas of the lump, and they tape me up.
I go directly back into the mammogram room for a follow-up on the affected breast. They've place a marker in it while they were in there, so they can be sure they are looking at the right thing, and they need more pictures of that. I nearly faint, twice, though I can't think why, as I'm not generally a fainter. I'm not sure if it was the process itself, or the reality of the situation. In any case, I don't faint, she just puts me in the recliner (provided in these rooms for this very purpose) until I feel better, and that's it. I'm held together with strips of steri-tape, my chest is dyed blue, and I'm done. My doctor should have the results in three days (for some reason, at the time, I heard them say three weeks, but, I didn't argue with that. I've got a life to live, and if it takes that long, then why worry?).
I walk home (I live about a block away, so walking made sense to me), calling my mom as I do so, to let her know that they did do a biopsy, and then I text my someone and the one other friend I'd told to let them know as well. My girlfriend immediately asks what I need, should she come over, would I like something to eat (my appetite has been off for weeks - due more to that certain someone than anything else, in my opinion) or would I like to rest? I decide that yes, I'd like company, and food, and so we watched a movie while I rested. My someone didn't respond for almost 2 hours. He's having his own troubles, and, like I said, this is not yet a relationship - we're barely starting up a friendship again after 9 years apart - so, I don't want to be too harsh, but, it makes me sad.
This wasn't my first mammogram. I have a family history of breast cancer, from my mothers family, so I'd been there before. When I was younger, they'd make me wait, right there in the waiting area, for them to process the films. I found this annoying, as I was only there as a matter of routine, and, I'm sorry to say, this made me less eager to schedule another after I'd been a few times. So I'd let it go for a while. There is no excuse for that, but, that's what happened.
At any rate, I knew they'd want to add a biopsy to my day as soon as they'd seen the lump (which I'd come to think of as a large mass), and of course, the minute she started the ultrasound, she tells me the doctor is already on his way to see this himself. When he arrived, he asked if I wanted to do the needle biopsy now, or the next day. I thought now would be good.
Local anesthetic, because this lump is near the surface, and in an area not usually covered by my bra. In fact, it's an area not always covered by clothing - the upper left area of my right breast. The eventual scars, I'm thinking, may not be easy to hide.
The doctor cleans me with something dyed blue, so they know for sure where they've cleaned, and injects two different things to numb the area. I have a high pain tolerance, so this just stings a little. He offers to show me the biopsy needle, but I am content just to hear what it's going to sound like as it punches a hole and takes a sample. I'm not bothered by needles, but, what I can see out of the corner of my eye is enough to satisfy my curiosity. He makes a small incision through which to insert the needle, then takes three samples, guided by the ultrasound, from three slightly different areas of the lump, and they tape me up.
I go directly back into the mammogram room for a follow-up on the affected breast. They've place a marker in it while they were in there, so they can be sure they are looking at the right thing, and they need more pictures of that. I nearly faint, twice, though I can't think why, as I'm not generally a fainter. I'm not sure if it was the process itself, or the reality of the situation. In any case, I don't faint, she just puts me in the recliner (provided in these rooms for this very purpose) until I feel better, and that's it. I'm held together with strips of steri-tape, my chest is dyed blue, and I'm done. My doctor should have the results in three days (for some reason, at the time, I heard them say three weeks, but, I didn't argue with that. I've got a life to live, and if it takes that long, then why worry?).
I walk home (I live about a block away, so walking made sense to me), calling my mom as I do so, to let her know that they did do a biopsy, and then I text my someone and the one other friend I'd told to let them know as well. My girlfriend immediately asks what I need, should she come over, would I like something to eat (my appetite has been off for weeks - due more to that certain someone than anything else, in my opinion) or would I like to rest? I decide that yes, I'd like company, and food, and so we watched a movie while I rested. My someone didn't respond for almost 2 hours. He's having his own troubles, and, like I said, this is not yet a relationship - we're barely starting up a friendship again after 9 years apart - so, I don't want to be too harsh, but, it makes me sad.
How It Started
On Thursday, Dec 15th, while working at a clients' office, I was trying not to think about a certain someone that had come back into my life recently, and instead trying hard to concentrate on my work. As I sat at the desk in the office set aside for me, I put my hand against my chest, in a way I often do, and felt a lump.
About the size of a quarter, possibly a silver dollar, irregular, hard, and, in my mind, impossible to miss. I use a facial scrub on my chest every morning in the shower - how could I have missed something as obvious as this?
The various possibilities started running through my mind, and I determined that yes, I would need to schedule a mammogram, and an appointment with my doctor. As I wasn't at my own office, I felt uncomfortable doing it right then, and decided to leave it for the next day.
On Friday, my office door was closed many times throughout the day as I made the various phone calls to schedule appointments and see what I should do. I texted that certain someone, asking him to call me when he could, and I called my mom.
Mom felt the same as I did: this isn't nothing, it will cause a disturbance in my life for a while, but it's not going to kill me.
When my someone called me, it was not the conversation he was expecting. But, I think he handled it as well as could be expected. Though it did add a rather serious note to what was not yet the beginning of a relationship.
My mammogram and ultrasound were scheduled for Jan 2 - the soonest they could get me in.
Though there may have been an argument for asking them to fit me in sooner, I didn't want to disrupt Christmas and New Years with the sorts of things I'm doing now: waiting for biopsy results, getting those results, and meeting with a surgeon. I felt that not knowing was a better option, considering the timing. So I waited.
I did not lose any sleep over it. I have not felt a need to worry about it, or to panic. Since my mom, who is a fairly spiritual and intuitive person, felt the same as I did, we don't feel that it was a mistake to let things happen as they have.
About the size of a quarter, possibly a silver dollar, irregular, hard, and, in my mind, impossible to miss. I use a facial scrub on my chest every morning in the shower - how could I have missed something as obvious as this?
The various possibilities started running through my mind, and I determined that yes, I would need to schedule a mammogram, and an appointment with my doctor. As I wasn't at my own office, I felt uncomfortable doing it right then, and decided to leave it for the next day.
On Friday, my office door was closed many times throughout the day as I made the various phone calls to schedule appointments and see what I should do. I texted that certain someone, asking him to call me when he could, and I called my mom.
Mom felt the same as I did: this isn't nothing, it will cause a disturbance in my life for a while, but it's not going to kill me.
When my someone called me, it was not the conversation he was expecting. But, I think he handled it as well as could be expected. Though it did add a rather serious note to what was not yet the beginning of a relationship.
My mammogram and ultrasound were scheduled for Jan 2 - the soonest they could get me in.
Though there may have been an argument for asking them to fit me in sooner, I didn't want to disrupt Christmas and New Years with the sorts of things I'm doing now: waiting for biopsy results, getting those results, and meeting with a surgeon. I felt that not knowing was a better option, considering the timing. So I waited.
I did not lose any sleep over it. I have not felt a need to worry about it, or to panic. Since my mom, who is a fairly spiritual and intuitive person, felt the same as I did, we don't feel that it was a mistake to let things happen as they have.
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