(A long arm self-portrait taken in the parking ramp before I walked into the clinic. Those would be the eyes of trepidation. )

So as I said in the previous post - I opened the letter that I wasn’t expecting, “please come back in for a second mammogram.”
It knocked the wind out of me.
Peter assured me that they are just being careful and double-checking.
“Just having another look-see for reassurance.”
It doesn’t seem so daunting if you say look-see does it?
I called the clinic for mammo #2 the next morning and they got me in the same day.
Is that good? Or bad? Was there a sense of urgency or did they have a cancellation?
The appointment was over my lunch hour. I drank my complimentary coffee nervously in the waiting room. I noticed they had the “Matt & Maddy” issue of People in the racks it was comforting to have some “online friends” there.

I went through all of the motions that I went through the prior week. Changed into my robe. The nurse showed me the x-rays and pointed out a few areas they wanted to get a second look at. She said the doctor would analyze them right after the mammo and let me know how we should proceed. Did mammo #2 and went to another waiting room.

I was hoping the nurse would pop her head in and say - “Hey all clear - gather your things and go home.”

Nope. She came in and asked me to join her in the consult room. The room with the comfortable couch with the Kleenex box next to it.

Crap.

I waited for the radiologist to come in so we could look at my x-rays together. All very surreal. My head was spinning as he pointed out an area of concern. I stood there hand on chin thoughtfully, calmly nodding as he spoke, asking questions, trying to absorb what he was saying as I tried not to crumple down to the floor. He pointed out a “calcification cluster of concern.” I appreciated his alliteration and they just looked like little white sprinkles on the x-ray to me but apparently they were suspicious sprinkles. They could indicate a pre-cancerous change in the tissue - or not.

So he recommended a biopsy so we could know for certain. They gave me a statistic that 80% of the results for these types of procedures come out benign - 20% don’t. And if by chance it was cancer - we couldn’t have caught it earlier. Early detection is key. It still didn’t ease my mind. They told me to go make an appointment - “How about 7:45 tomorrow?” I took it. Let’s get it out of the way. Oh, and after the biopsy - you can’t lift anything over 5 lbs for 48 hours. Um, I have a 1 and a 3 year old - carseats, highchairs, changing tables how is that possible? Peter was going to have to take off work to do the lifting. The next issue? Waiting. It takes 2 business days for results - the next morning was Thursday. I’d have to wait all weekend until Monday to know the answer. Four days.

The rest of the day I felt distracted to say the least. Teary-eyed, I went on about my business trying to stay positive and not slip into the “what ifs.” After work I went to the bookstore to buy some birthday gifts that I needed to get in the mail. As I stood in line I saw a little gift book I’d seen a million times before. There’s a sketchy drawing of a woman on the cover stating “Slap on some Lipstick - You’ll be Fine!” Great idea I thought - the power of the pigment! I needed to be fine. I would wear some lipstick tomorrow to my biopsy and my ginkgo leaf necklace as a good luck talisman. Wearing lipstick to a procedure -why did that sound so familiar? Later I remembered - the ultimate lipstick connection. Dear co-blogger May had gone to Columbia’s Journalism School with Geralyn Lucas, the breast cancer survivor who wrote “Why I Wore Lipstick to my Mastectomy”

So the biopsy procedure went fine. They numbed the area and took out some tissue samples. They told me to hold perfectly still while inserting the needle. I thought -This is nothing. I held perfectly still during a monster contraction while the doctor threaded an enormous epidural needle up my spine. I can hold still while they poke a needle in my right one. No biggie. Once again - childbirth brings perspective and a new threshold for discomfort and pain.

The four days of waiting for results was the hardest part. Excruciating. Again I tried to stay positive and not jump to the deepest darkest places. I don’t know anything until I know and I wouldn’t know until Monday. Just take a deep breath and go on about your days. Easier said than done.

I would look at my kids and start to cry.
I’m supposed to always be there for them.
I’d look at Peter and start to cry.
We’re supposed to grow old together.
I couldn’t spend the whole time crying, so I tried to busy myself with errands but I felt like I was lugging around this enormous angry question mark cloud over my head. Couldn’t everyone else see it? I’d turn on my car radio and there would be a magically reassuring song on a random station. Bob Marley and his Three Little Birds would tell me “Don’t worry, about a thing, every little thing is gonna be alright…” Then the next station would have a commercial for the Breast Cancer Three Day.

And I did what everyone tells you NOT to do. Go on the internet for some research - it can scare the bejeepers out of you. But what I found was solace. I didn’t know anyone who had gone through what I was going through and may go through except well, Kevyn Burger from FM107. May and I had just been on her show earlier that month. So I googled her and found a blog she kept called KEVYNBABY during her diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer.
What I learned from her words was she now has a whole new perspective, a new normal, a deeper appreciation and gusto for life. Breast cancer not the worst thing and it’s certainly not a death sentence - just look at all of the vibrant and beautiful survivors out there. I was thankful to have her blog as a resource to turn to. Thank you Kevyn!

Monday morning FINALLY came. I was a ball of nerves driving into work knowing I would see that phone number from the clinic on the caller ID. What would the prognosis be? I just wanted to KNOW one way or the other. The nurse had said I wasn’t going to hear from them until the afternoon so I was surprised to see the phone number pop up right away at 8 a.m.

I warily picked up the phone.

The nurse had a lilt in her voice…
“Good news it’s benign! It was just harmless and very common fibrocystic tissue….

she went on but I was already doing a little B9! dance in my office.

B9 B9 B9 B9 B9 B9 B9 B9 B9!

A world of worry slid with a heavy thunk off my shoulders and the angry question mark cloud dissipated up into the atmosphere.

It took me a few weeks to get my thoughts together and get the words to write this post. And part of me hesitated. Why be a drama queen? It was BENIGN - you’re absolutely fine. I guess I just wanted to share my experience and I am thankful that I went through it. As a result of that agonizingly long weekend - I had a reality check, a new touchstone to remember what is important and what really matters.

Plus it gives me another opportunity to remind you ladies, or the ladies in your life to - please do your monthly breast exams and get your scheduled yearly mammograms whenever you turn the magic age.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 6th, 2009 at 12:36 pm and is filed under Health. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.