roller coaster

The past couple of weeks have been a mess.

My mom has had breast cancer. So have two of my aunts and a cousin. I've done genetic counseling and due to the family history the doctors at the Mayo Breast Clinic recommended that I have a mammogram at 35. Because I'm high risk, that makes me a candidate for the MRI as well. I went in on January 24th for a basic, routine mammogram. I had my four scans and then was told to wait for the results. I wasn't worried. I had no need to be. Twenty minutes later I was called back to do 7 additional scans. Whoa, seven? Really though, no biggie. I know I have small, dense breast and it's sometimes hard to get good images. I still wasn't worried. After being bent and positioned like a Gumby doll, I was asked to wait again. I spent the next 20 minutes texting Michael about the young healthcare worker that was there with her patient. She's talking about the President and Liberals and how the world is falling apart. That is all interrupted when the nurse calls my name and asks me to get dressed.

The doctor would like to speak with you. Those are words you don't want to hear.

My last text to Michael was Oh crap. The doctor wants to see me. That can't be good. It wasn't the worse news, but it wasn't great. Here's the thing about the Mayo Clinic. In my opinion, they are the best. They are quick and thorough and do not mess around. The doctor called me back to her dark corner and went over all the scans with me. She showed me the calcifications they found and explained to me that mine didn't really fall into one of the two categories. Rather they were a mix of both. Normally they would recommend another mammogram in six months and send me on my way, but given my family history she suggested that I go to the breast clinic and talk to my doctor about an MRI.

I did just that. On Monday the 28th I sat down with the doctor and we talked about all kinds of stuff. Options, risk factors, percentages, cancer. She told me to have my mom take a newer genetic test. It was a lot to take in. She did a thorough breast exam and found nothing, which was good, but did order the MRI. It was the best tool they had. If something was there, the MRI would find it. She would use the results and the recommendation from the Radiologist to proceed with a plan.

The MRI was scheduled for Wednesday, February 6th. I was told that I would have to be completely still during the scans. To aid in that they doped me up with Ativan. I was relaxed, but still nervous, so they gave me another one. Bless you sweet nurses.

Me with an IV, Michael with the iPad. He was as cool as a cucumber, which is exactly what I needed in this situation. He was there when I needed to cry, there to give me a hug and there when I just needed to be alone. He was the best husband and partner throughout this experience. I probably would have been all over the place if it wasn't for him.

Other than laying there with your boobs in a vice, the MRI was a piece of cake. I was so relaxed that I was on the verge of falling asleep. I don't get claustrophobic in the machine as long as I keep my eyes closed from the very beginning. Nothing was said to me when it was over so I assumed that was good news. Two days had gone by and I still hadn't heard anything. It was now Friday afternoon and I had all but convinced myself that everything was fine. Then, at 4 p.m., my phone rang. I know the 953 belongs to the Mayo Clinic and my heart started to beat faster. The nurse on the other end of the phone talked so fast that I had to have her repeat everything.

They want to do an MRI assisted biopsy on the area they found.

They found something. And did I just hear the word biopsy? Whoa. 

At this point I had only cried a couple of times throughout this process. As much as I told myself I wasn't going to worry until I had something to worry about, your mind still goes to a place where you see worst case scenario. Driving back to work after the mammogram I thought about my girls and how I couldn't go through cancer. I didn't want them to see me that way. I didn't want them to lose their mom. I cried and I cried hard. When I talked to the doctor that Monday morning I cried. I had those same thoughts all over again. When they told me I needed a biopsy my heart fell into my stomach. You don't want to prematurely think about cancer, but it happens. It's human and it's what we do. That night I went home. I put on my running clothes and went for a run. I turned my music up loud so I couldn't hear my thoughts. When I got home I sat alone in the front yard. And I cried.

I was good after that. I was ready to take the necessary steps needed to figure out what was going on. I reminded myself again not to worry until I had a real reason to worry. I reminded myself that God is really in charge and the worrying isn't going to affect the outcome. It is what it is and it still could be nothing. Only a few people knew what was going. I didn't tell many because there wasn't much to tell. I wanted to wait until I had more information and details to pass on. I didn't want people to worry. I finally felt like I was at a point to share the story. I told more of my family and friends. It was nice to have their support, their prayers and their positive energy.

I went in for the biopsy last Wednesday. Same place, same clothes, same nurses, same nerves. I had my vitals taken and the IV put in. Then the doctor came out to explain the procedure. Scan, scans, place needle, scans, do biopsy, scans, titanium clip, then mammogram. The area was near my chest wall and might be hard to get to. They may not be even to do the biopsy today. I was freaking out a little. Needles are not my best friend.  After signing the waiver I got the Ativan. It helped. 

I'm not sure why they do it, but the doctor initialed me after the procedure talk. I guess he was marking me as his patient. (Yes, I do have a lot of sun damage from being 16 and stupid, but that's another blog post.)

I kept telling myself, one step at a time. That's all I can do.

They called me back. Three of the best nurses helped get me in position on the table. You really feel like a puppet when they are pulling and positioning you. We laughed and joked about small boobs, boob jobs, cute doctors and the cute male nurse who did my vitals. They call him Andy Eye Candy. I felt like I was in the middle of a Grey's Anatomy episode. All was ready to go and they started the scans. They did a couple and then a couple of more. One of the nurses came in to talk to me while the doctor looked over everything. A couple of minutes passed and I saw the original doctor (from the mammogram) walk by. She was heading in to look at the scans as well. The nurse said she was meticulous. So much so that the nurses often get annoyed with her. After a another scan and a couple more minutes they all came in. 

You're done. The area we found has shrunk. It's changed. We don't feel the need to do the biopsy today.

A wave of emotions came over me. I was relieved and happy. Also confused and a little out of sorts. This whole process seemed to hit me all at once. I wasn't sure if I should smile or cry. I called my mom who was over the moon thrilled. She didn't show it for three weeks, but at that moment I realized how scared and nervous she was for me. I don't think I realized how scared and nervous I was. The physical and mental toll this all had on me was coming to light. We got home and I couldn't keep my eyes open for another minute. I hit the pillow and slept for hours. I made a couple of phone calls when I woke up. I really don't even remember what I said. I just know that everyone loved me and they were so happy to hear the good news.

(Me doped up on Ativan and just really tired.)

The short term plan is to go back in 6 months for another MRI and maybe a mammogram. I feel comfortable with them not doing the biopsy, for now. I feel comfortable being rescanned in 6 months. Hopefully they will find that nothing has changed. I'll probably sit down with a doctor and figure out what the long term plan is from there. Every six months? Every year? My mom's test came back negative so she is not carrying the gene. That is good news. But with so many female members of my family having breast cancer I'm not completely convinced. I'm not going to let one test decide how I make decisions for my future so I will arm myself with as much information as I can.

Here's my PSA. I'm a very take charge of your health kind of girl. I get a physical once a year. I check my tatas for lumps and bumps. I started mammograms early because of my family history. I trust doctors, their opinions and diagnosis, but if I'm not comfortable with something I let them know. I'm not afraid to ask questions and retain as much information as I can. I'm not afraid to ask for tests that aren't offered to me. I'm lucky to have the Mayo Clinic in my backyard, but it doesn't matter who your doctor is. You have to do what's best for you. If this had been cancer, they would have found it early. Thankfully it's not and I'm back to taking it one step at a time. I only have one life to live. My life. God is ultimately in control, but I will do the best I can to live it to the fullest.