My journey began on Wednesday, August 10, 2016. I was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer. The week before I had a mammogram that was deemed abnormal. Further testing resulted in a breast biopsy two days after. On August 10th, 2016 I sat silent as the doctor went over my test results with me. Breast Cancer. My initial reaction ... I felt numb. I heard the words. I understood what they meant, but it was as if my doctor was talking about someone else. Yet, it was me she was speaking about. My treatment plan would begin when I met with my team on August 16th.
On August 16th I arrived at the Cancer Center with my husband, Bill. What an absolutely beautiful building. White walls, tall glass windows, curved halls. In an odd way though it reminded me of an airport terminal ... but gorgeous.
The clinical and clerical staff were all efficient, pleasant. Registration was quick and easy. The registration person was the first person I dealt with. I can't recall her name, but she was young and very nice. She had a lovely smile. As a matter of fact, all the staff seemed to be smiling ... all the time. A bit unnerving.
Then my husband and I returned to the waiting area. While sitting in a blue chair ... funny how you can remember such an unimportant detail, I noticed a woman on the other side of the large waiting area. I really couldn't estimate her age. She wasn't elderly in my opinion, but I really couldn't tell. I looked at her for a moment or two. She was completely bald and very pale skinned. I quickly looked away. A short while later my nurse navigator greeted me and escorted my husband and myself to an exam room.
The next person I met was my intake person ... a young, smiling black woman. Can't recall her name. She took general information ... my health history, medications I took, etc. When she was finished she asked me to take off my bra and blouse and put on a hospital gown. The gown was very short and barely fell to my waist. She said the Oncology doctor would be in shortly.
My medical Oncology doctor came and introduced herself. She was young. At least it seemed that way to me. Slender, not very tall. She had reddish, straight chin length hair. She had a light spattering of freckles across her cheeks. She spoke with a slight accent I could not discern. She was pleasant, but formal in her approach. I understood some of what she told me, but much of it was very clinical. I did get the gist of it though. In her opinion, my course of treatment should begin with surgery to remove the cancerous growth from my left breast (lumpectomy) and also to remove a few lymph nodes for further testing.
She recommended 4 Chemotherapy treatments. The reason for the chemo was more of a precautionary nature. I was not a candidate for pills as part of my treatment because of the type of breast cancer I had - triple negative. My age and my body's negative receptive factors played greatly in her decision. She also recommended radiation treatments.
My Oncology surgeon was the next person I met. He was very friendly, warm, and patient. He asked me to tell him, in my own words, what the Medical Oncologist had told me. In simple terms I repeated what I had comprehended from the conversation I had with her. He seemed satisfied that I had a basic, but decent grasp of things. He then began to explain about the surgery, which he scheduled for September 7th. In response, I brought up a few issues I had such as needing anti-nausea medication administered during surgery since I was prone to having terrible side effects from anesthesia. He told me I would be able to discuss those concerns with the anesthesiologist before the surgery. He mentioned that a small patch placed behind the ear was the method of choice now. I thought that was pretty amazing. How things had changed since I last had any kind of surgery. As I write this today it occurred to me ... it would be similar to going on a cruise and using a patch to prevent seasickness.
The last doctor I was supposed to meet that day was the radiologist. He had a conflicting schedule and I didn't get to meet him. I expect I will meet him in due time.
During the course of the afternoon I met with 2 social workers and an oncology medical assistant. I can't recall just when I met them during my visit. Whether it was before one doctor came in ... or when another doctor left the room, I really don't know. Stress can make you easily lose track of things. All I know is that it was a very long day for me. I felt wiped out. So much information to process. Fear, anger, sadness, and self pity washed over me for the rest of the day into the night. Early the following morning as I lay in bed next to my husband I finally gave into those feelings. I cried ... and my husband held me and comforted me.
If the stress of my breast cancer diagnosis wasn't enough, I had something else to contend with during this past week. I broke a tooth. My own dentist tried to save it, but there just wasn't enough to work with. So, I went to the oral surgeon and had it pulled 3 days later. I haven't had a tooth pulled since I was 18 and that was for the removal of 4 impacted wisdom teeth. Wisdom teeth can often be the bane of a young person's existence, but older people have their set of problems, too. Now at 65 I have to contend with teeth that can easily fracture. Not funny, God.
Rolling right along, today I had an appointment to see my gynecologist for a routine pelvic exam. She was aware of my circumstances. When the exam was finished she asked me if she could give me a hug? "I can use all the hugs I can get," I laughed as she hugged me. You might not realize it, but it's a little things, the little acts of kindness, that can make such a difference in a person's day.
