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The Day I found Out I Had Breast Cancer

Has 4 weeks ever felt like 8 months? 

Good! Glad it isn’t just me. 

4 weeks ago today, I went in to have my first ever mammogram due to a lump I discovered on my right breast. Between my age, 32, and lack of family history I walked in thinking nothing of it. Literally. End of story. Turns out, I was wrong. 

It was actually the beginning of a story. 

I don’t need to brace you for the fallout that unfolded. Looking back at my two hour office visit and all of the events that unfolded, there is definitely some humor to the story, however, at that this point in time, I don’t have the energy to go back and relive it for you. For now, can we just agree to have the highlights? Before we go on, it’s only fair that I clarify the office I visited to have this test was not in the town where I live, or in any way related to the care team I currently have. 

Friday, October 23rd:

Highlight 1. The mammogram itself. Are you people serious? Is this really how we still have to do it? The pushing, the pulling, the awkward angles...it’s not for the faint of hear. If you’ve had one of these bad boys, you’re giggling right now. And if you aren’t, you should be. Go ahead, let your sense of humor sore. It is so stinking invasive and barbaric, yet oddly funny. 

Highlight 2. The radiologist, I say again, the radiologist took it upon himself / herself to tell me on site (me laying on an exam table with the ultrasound goop still stuck to me) that I had breast cancer. Yep. True story. In case you’re wondering, a room can go from completely stable to spinning in less than 15 seconds.

Highlight 2. An escorted walk (because the hall was spinning too much) back to a changing room area filled with patients. #Don’tStare

Highlight 3. Calling Clark. Never thought I would struggle to remember how to dial a number. I think I managed to squeak out, “please get over here asap.”

Highlight 4. Phone call to my brother-in-law. Yes, you may be thinking, “You didn’t call your sister?” No. Why? Friend, I was in complete hysterics. Looking back, it’s slightly funny. I can’t fully describe it, but it loosely translates to my body shaking involuntarily accompanied by almost complete loss of vocal ability, and a lot of ugly tears. The person on the other end of that phone needed to be someone who would not mirror my hysteria. No offense, sisters. The conversation was very brief. In summary, he very calmly gave me one job, “do not leave that office without your images on a disc.” Noted. 

Highlight 5. Securing the disc.

Clark, in true Superman fashion, arrived and sat with me while we waited for the tech to come back. 

Me: “I’m going to need a copy of my disc.” 

Tech: “Okay, it will be ready on Monday.” 

Clark, “No, no. We aren’t leaving here without the disc. We’ll wait here until it’s ready, thank you.”

Five short minutes later, it was magically ready. We left.

That started and ended my care with this facility and any of it’s providers. 

Once home, we gathered the troops and put a plan in place. 

This is what it looked like... 

Tuesday, October 27th: Appointment with general surgeon to discuss options | Biopsy at hospital.

Thursday, October 29th: Pathology report confirms cancer.

Tuesday, November 3rd:1st appointment with oncologist. We learned the tumor is triple positive, meaning it has all three markers: HER2, estrogen, and progesterone. The good part about this? There are very effective treatment playbooks for this type of thing. 

Thursday, November 4th: I like to remember this day as the day of tests:

CT Scan

Echocardiogram

Surgical Pre-Op

Breast MRI - Now, friend. If you haven’t had one of these yet, you are in for a treat! Seriously. You lay face down in a tube, arms stretched overhead, without moving a muscle for 45ish minutes. True story.

When the scan was over, the tech, who was absolutely awesome, comes over and pulls me out of the tube. She goes, “Okay you can get up now.” .......... I just laid there in my face donut thinking, “I literally can not get up.” You know that feeling when something goes numb, and your brain fires “move” and nothing happens? Yes. That was my whole body after the scan. Via my face donut I said something to the effect of, “ummm, I don’t think I can get up.” She tried to stifle a giggle, but I started to laugh right along with her. I would pay a lot of money to see the security footage of her trying to assist my non responsive body up and out of that contraption. We laughed more once she got me upright. 

Friday, November 5th: Surgery Day!  2 for 1 special...

Insert chemo port

Sentinel Node biopsy: this is the best way to find out if cancer has spread to the lymph nodes. Just a side note, they told me, “this is a long day.” They were right. Before surgery, you spend about 3 hours in nuclear medicine. They inject you with dye, then take photos every 30 minutes of where the dye goes. Only after all of that do you get to go back to the OR for the real business. Surgery went great. I recovered happily at home. 

Monday, November 9th: Bone Scan

Tuesday, November 10th: This was an amazing day. So many answered prayers. Hearts filled with gratitude. 

1st appointment with reprodcutve endocrinologist. Clark and I don’t have kids yet. We had plans to start trying at the beginning of 2021. Now, we have a new plan: hopefully put some eggs on ice after chemo. 

2nd Appointment with oncologist: Received the wonderful news that all scans came back clear, and all seven lymph-nodes came back clear! No cancer anywhere else. Officially staged at Breast Cancer 1B. 

Post-op with general surgeon: Oncology stole his thunder, but it was still a great visit. Pathology came back negative! No cancer in my lymph nodes. High fives, gratitude, and answered prayers all around!

Monday, November 17th: Chemo, Round 1 of 6.

I am forever grateful to my adopted hometown medical community, the doctors, teams, and “make it happen” people who helped us navigate the health care process at astonishingly fast speeds. The level of care we have experienced has been outstanding. It took just one horrific experience to learn that not all doctors and not at healthcare organizations are created equal. I am beyond grateful for my care team. 

They have competency and that good old fashioned patient care etiquette in spades.

-Abby








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