Recorded January 2008:
Hello Readers,
I've put up this special page to record my thoughts and experiences
of the last couple of months (November 2007 - January 2008).
Let me say right up front that I do NOT have breast cancer. My
experience is that of what I call a "near miss" and all the testing
I went through.
My heart and support goes out to those of you who've actually
had to deal with the heartache of this disease. I wish you much
strength and healing.
I wanted to write this because once I started going through all the
testing, I found out that so many people I knew had gone through the
same thing, but I was never aware of it. Even thinking about it can be depressing and/or
stressful. But I believe that sharing can be quite helpful and very
therapeutic. At least it was for me.
I believe that knowledge is power and can take away a lot
of the fear involved. Some of the best information
I've found on breast disease is here at WebMD.
So, what happened with me?
Each year I go in for a mammogram (or a pap smear), and as I wait for the
results, my thoughts tend to be, "Will I get another year to live?" Okay,
that sounds miserable, I know. But breast cancer and uterine cancer runs
in my family, so it's always foremost in my mind.
In November 2007, I went in for my normal yearly mammogram. A week later, my
doctor's office called to say that they needed to do a spot compression
on my left breast because of my dense breast tissue. I didn't think that much of it at the
time. I've been down that road before.
My history:
A couple of years ago, after a normal mammogram, I was told that I needed
a spot compression on my right breast. Instead of mashing your breast with
two large plates, they use two small ones. For me, they needed to take a
picture of the nipple area. Ugh! That was painful. When the tech said,
"Don't breathe," I thought, "That's not even an option." Bad news was that
they needed two pictures, so I had to endure it twice. Good news was it went fast. I was worried, of
course, but hoped for the best. The results came back as calcification. No
problems. Normal.
The next year when I went in for my mammogram, I was told that I needed
an ultrasound on both breasts. ::sigh:: Okay. No pain with this one,
which was good. I was a little more worried, because this was the second
time I needed more testing and it was a different test this time. But again,
it came back okay. Cysts only. No problems. Normal.
End of history.
Okay, on to November 2007. I went in for my spot compression and
also needed two more regular mammogram films taken. They'd
found two areas of calcification that looked suspicious. Since the areas were
not around the nipple, this test wasn't nearly as painful as the first time I
had it done. It did burn like crazy for a few seconds. But nothing that
couldn't be tolerated.
I thought, "Here we go again." I was a bit nervous, but since I'd been through
this before, I thought everything would be okay. I even delayed making that appointment
an extra week or so because I had other things going on (a mistake; never
delay!). This made it the end of November before I went in.
When the doctor's office called a week later, I heard the one thing I never wanted to hear.
"You need a biopsy." Instant stress. One of the areas they tested looked abnormal.
They referred me to the Advanced Breast Treatment Center.
This time I made the appointment right away. Still, it was December before I got in, a time
when holiday cheer should be abundant. For me and my family, it was anything but.
I first had to go in for a consultation. While there, as the doctor was
examining me, she felt a lump in my "other" breast. ::sigh:: So, I had to return
for an ultrasound. She let me look at the screen while she went ahead and
examined both breasts. The lump turned out to be a normal cyst. Thank goodness.
One less thing to worry about. But I still needed the biopsy of the tissue in my left breast.
They'd call me the next day with an appointment time and date.
It turned out to be December 27th before they had an opening. Okay, so now I
had to go through Christmas with this hanging over my head. I tried to be strong
though. Truthfully, I got no writing done (well, maybe a couple of hundred
words). Some people can use their stress to write powerful scenes. Not me. My
mind has to be settled. So, everything pretty much came to a halt and I basically just vegged out.
I emailed family and friends and received tremendous support, which I'll always be
grateful for (thanks, everyone!).
Finally, the day came. My appointment was at 3:00 in the afternoon. Talk about
a LONG day, waiting for the time to come. They wanted me there an hour early.
There are different types of biopsies, depending on what they find. Mine was a
Stereotactic Breast Biopsy. And it would take about an hour.
Here's my completely non-medical and half out-of-it explanation of the procedure. LOL
The initial
office I was in was more like a lounge. Pretty nice and relaxing actually. That's
where they got all my insurance and other information. After that, a tech took
me downstairs to a waiting area. She showed me a dressing room with two lockers
in it and told me to disrobe from the waist up and put on the gown. I could store
my stuff in one of the lockers. Good thing I'd left my coat and purse upstairs with my
mother, for they never would have fit!
I only had to wait maybe five minutes, which was great. Waiting is always the
hardest part. I'd rather just have such things over with! I was guided into the
room with the table where my doctor would be doing the test. The tech explained the
procedure. By the way, this was done right in the advanced breast treatment center, not the hospital. Though
the hospital is located right next door, which was comforting.
Basically, you lie on a table with a hole in the center of it -- on your stomach,
so that your breast hangs through the hole. Now, I have to say that for me the
table was a bit uncomfortable. They did put some foam under my ribs to
make me more comfortable, but it didn't really help that much. Once you get into position,
you're supposed to stay put!
Well, I kinda did, but more on that later and the consequences of moving.
They used a mammogram to locate the exact spot to biopsy, but it doesn't hurt
like a regular mammogram -- either because of the position or the drugs.
I'm not certain which. LOL
They use Lidocaine with Epenephrine to numb the breast, which caused me to really shake
badly, especially my jaw. I swore it was going to come unhinged!
I thought it was my nerves, but afterward, they told me it was the drug, which
affects some people that way.
For the first few minutes, I didn't feel a thing. They said I'd feel a little burning, but nothing.
They inserted the needle and nothing. Which was great,
of course. Then they said to be prepared because they were going deeper for a
second. It jolted me a bit, but was over with so fast that it wasn't really that bad.
Now they needed to get the sample.
BUT, I have arthritis, and my arm was killing me (tip: keep arm straight, not
bent). I ended up moving
it and getting off position a little. Bad me! They really get the positioning down to
a small area of the breast, so they only take out the abnormal tissue for the sample.
Anyhow, because I moved, they had to reposition the needle. Then they didn't get enough during
the first sample, so they decided to take a second sample. I had four areas of
calcification, and they'd only gotten one with the first sample, which my doctor
didn't feel was a good enough sample. She went back in and got all four areas. By then, the drugs were
wearing off (though not the shaking), so I could feel the needle. It wasn't
screaming pain, but was uncomfortable. If I hadn't moved, I probably wouldn't have felt
a thing, because it would have gone faster. They don't even want you to move your head.
A radiologist was brought in during all this to consult. So besides me, there
were three other people in the room.
After the biopsy, they put a titanium piece into the area, so the doctor
knows where the spot is if they have to go back in later. Also, this shows
up on future mammograms, so the tech and radiologist know you've already had
that area biopsied.
I lost quite a bit of blood (or it seemed like a lot to me). They compressed the
area for a while, put some strips on it, and a bandage. No stitches were
necessary. Then they mammogrammed the breast, gave me a cold pack to put in
my bra, and sent me home. Some doctor's will prescribe pain meds, I'm told,
but I only used over-the-counter pills for my pain.
I was supposed to wear my bra overnight. Ugh! I got no sleep. But it was
done, so I was grateful for that, at least.
Now, came the hardest part. Normally, it's takes 2-3 days to get back the
results. But because a weekend was coming up and a holiday (New Years), I
had to wait for 7 days. A lifetime.
So, on January 3rd, I went in with my mother to get the strips taken off and
to hear the results. This was
either going to be a new beginning free and clear or the start of a fight for
my life.
The doctor came in and immediately said, "You're fine." The entire weight
of world felt like it had been lifted from my shoulders. It was benign
calcifications, she explained. She talked to me for a bit, but hell if I remember
what she said. LOL
I need to go back after 6 months for a follow-up mammogram,
just to make certain everything is okay. That's normal procedure.
Once the doctor left, both my mother and I broke down. Happy tears. Then
we realized we better dry our eyes, because my father had driven us, and if
we came out crying, he would have lost it, thinking the worst.
So, I'm okay. A little bruised. A little sore. Very grateful and feeling quite blessed.
The next day, I started thinking about the poor women who were getting the
opposite news, and the horrible moment that has to be for them.
I know family and friends who have battled the disease, but I can't imagine
going through it myself. I don't think I'm that brave.
When I left
the doctor's office, the tech on my case was in the hallway and saw me. She
asked what the outcome was. She was happy that I was fine and told me the radiologist hadn't
seemed too concerned, so she'd hoped for the best. But at the same time, she
was taking another woman down for testing, and I couldn't help but wonder about her future
and hope she too would be all right.
I just wanted to write
something up about it all. It's my sincere hope that someday a cure
is found for this terrible disease.
Although 80% of biopsies come back benign, it's still a traumatic thing
to go through, I think, especially when the disease runs in your family,
like mine. When you hear that 1 out of 8 women will develop
the disease, and it's the leading cause of death for women in their 40's-50's,
it certainly makes ME nervous.
This probably will not be the end of my testing, beyond normal mammograms.
Not as long as I have dense breast tissue. But I'm hoping all will remain
well. I'll keep everyone updated.
Prayers go out to those of you who have gone through any of this or had a
loved one go through it. Cyber hugs to you.
I'm sure some people handle such things better than others, but do talk to others about it, if it
happens to you. My friends and family rallied around me with all their
prayers and support and kept me going. Thank you. I love you all.
VISITORS THOUGHTS/COMMENTS:
From Brenda:
Ruth, I thought your story was very nice for you to tell. I am sure it was hard at the same time.
I have been through several scares myself, but so far it has been good news, and I am hoping it continues.
My Mother received news last December that she has breast cancer. That was so hard to deal with.
She did very good and had one of her breast removed, no chemo or radiation. I was glad about that for her.
She goes for check ups every 6 months. It shocked me how well she did with the surgery.
As soon as we
got her through the surgery, and she was okay, my Dad received news he had Liver cancer. and he was not too
lucky. He didn't make it. That is a hard one to deal with. So last year I had more then my share of hard times
with all the cancer we went through.
I guess that is why I am happy you told your story, so we all know we are not the
only ones going through all this, and there are other people out there that can understand all this. Thanks again and good luck.
From Kathy:
Thank you for telling your story!
Being on the business end of Mammography and biopsies, I tend to forget the other side of the story; the patients we see in our clinic are not just "breasts" they are attached to living, breathing, very emotional women.
Thank YOU, Ruth, for putting things into perspective for me, and giving me a new reason to go to work every day! Love you, too!!
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