Today is the 10th day after surgery and my doctor gave us the pathology report when I went in for my check-up.
First of all, he said I'm healing fine. The incisions are leaking a bit, but he said that's ok. He didn't take my drains out, but he said the plastic surgeon will do that. I see him on Wednesday. I got a good report on the healing process anyway. It's slow to recover from this surgery, but it eventually happens.
I am still in a considerable amount of pain from the surgery and I am very weak. I cannot use my arms much neither. It's going to take a while. I need to continue to rest and try to keep my iron level up out of the anemia zone.
Then he went over the pathology report with us. Three of the breasts were normal, no cancers, nothing of significance to find, normal tissues. Very good.
The cancerous breast had three spots of cancer. We knew of two, but there were three. The tumor that was less than a centimeter at the time of biopsy was 2.5 cm in diameter. It was an aggressive one! It was labeled "Infiltrating ductal carcinoma". I don't know which spot of cancer the report talks about but some of the other key phrases when discussing the right breast are: DCIS present, High grade, Cribriform growth pattern, Necrosis present, Calcifications present, margins clear, Estrogen Receptor Positive, Progesterone Receptor Positive, and Ki-67 = 15%.
Overall, I was given a Breast Cancer stage of IIA.
Lymph Nodes: They took 5 Sentinal nodes and 12 other lymph nodes. One sentinal lymph node had two isolated tumor cell clusters within it.
To summarize all of that medical jargon: The breast cancer has all been removed from the breasts. I am breast cancer free! That's the good news. The bad news is that the lymph node was not clear. There is potential that cancer cells have escaped from the breast tissue and entered the lymph system, which is to say: everything.
The doctor said I will be having chemo. 100% chance of chemo. He will be sending me to an oncologist and that doctor will decide what type of chemo, and what (if any) other treatments are necessary.
I came home and had a good solid cry about having to have chemo. I really don't want chemo! It ravages your body. I can only assume that chemo itself takes years off of a person's life. But, I read that if breast cancer goes wild it likes to settle into your lungs, bones or brain. That really sounds awful! I have no idea what is in store for me, but I don't think it will be pleasant. I'm headed down a rough road. I only hope that I can recover from this surgery before they send me off down chemo road. We'll wait and see what the oncologist says before totally freaking out.
So, there you have it. The update. You know everything that I know. Any questions that pop up, my answer is simply: "I don't know. That's a good question." Ask anyway, maybe it's something I can ask one of my doctors. Encouraging comments are much appreciated!
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Done and Home - Double Mastectomy with Immediate Reconstruction
Things are fuzzy in my mind, so I'll give you the short story.
It's done. Cancerous boob is gone, so is the other one and the little nubbins on my abdomen. They also took some lymph nodes from under my arm. Then they placed a mesh sling and a silicone implant under my chest muscle on each side.
I got there and got all prepped. This included an iv and a couple of shots in the armpit. The plastic surgeon came in and drew lots of lines all over my chest, boobs and belly with a marker. Long lines. I sure hoped he wasn't planning on slicing that much! He didn't. But it was a bit unnerving having the surgeon draw lots of long lines. The general surgeon was an hour late, but he got there. Everyone there, so they knocked me out and did their thing.
I guess the surgery was from 10am to 3pm or something like that. I don't know exactly.
I woke up to nurses over me. It was a blur. They wheeled me to my room and didn't have to move me to another bed, I was already in the bed. Whew. I was worried about them moving me after reading a blog where a gal was moved and the nurse pulled her arm to move her over and pulled out some interior stitching.
The next thing I remember is they were situating all the tubes and cords and things, and one little gal who didn't have her hair tied back said "I'll remove the catheter" and I suddenly came to enough to yell "No! Leave it in!" She left it in. I knew I wasn't going to hop up and go potty in a couple of hours and I was on an iv drip. Yer dang right, I want the catheter! I was actually glad to hear I had one.
Friday is very vague in my mind. I remember bits but I don't really know if they were Friday or another day. Keith said I asked him the same questions over again. I know they brought me dinner. Really? Was I supposed to sit up and eat dinner after spending 5 hours under anesthesia? Yuck.
Slowly, most of the tubes and wires and things came out. After surgery I had an oxygen tube poked up my nose, two drain tubes coming out of my sides, two wires, or tubes or a combination of, not sure, poked into me at the tip of my sternum, the catheter, and the iv. When I left five days later, I only left with the drain tubes. Still have 'em in fact. And, yup, they're gross.
I got blood drawn every day and I got shots in my belly every day too. Have I ever mentioned my fun little needle phobia? Yeah..... I'm so happy to be home!
I should have only been there for two or three days. Most people get booted out after one night. My extended stay was due to anemia. I could not sit up much and I certainly couldn't stand. The day after surgery a guy from physical therapy came into my room with a walker and a gait strap. I told him right away we weren't using the strap. I have incisions on my belly too. He said he'd put it down low. I said no. And then I couldn't even stand up, so it wasn't an issue. He was kind of hot headed and left the room annoyed with me for not standing up. I couldn't though.
The next day another physical terrorist came to see me and she did the same. I told her I wouldn't unless there was another person to help stand me up. She's only one person and can only stand one side of me. She's only got two arms. She argued and said she was trained and I said I might fall and I need to feel safe. She was annoyed too. Those people from the PT department sure don't like to be told how to do things. But, she got the nurse to stand on the other side of me while I tried to stand upright. She leaned me over till my legs took a step and then she celebrated.
My doctor came in and diagnosed me with severe anemia. He said I was borderline when I came in, my level was at a 12 or so, but he explained that surgery and even a little blood loss causes your hemoglobin levels to take a dip. My dip was more of a plummet. My iron levels were between 2 and 3. He ordered two blood transfusions and two extra days in the hospital. This is how I came to have a five-day stay.
After the blood transfusions, I felt a world better! I got up and walked down the hall. I got my catheter out and had a fairly easy time using the bathroom by myself. But, I couldn't actually get from laying to being upright without help because my chest muscles are in a lot of pain, my back hurts so bad from being down for so long, and my arms are also useless. I can't push or pull myself up. I was still getting dizzy easily, but at least I wasn't feeling like I would melt into the floor. I could stand.
I was released on Wednesday and they wheeled me to the car. Keith got me out and walked me straight up the stairs to our room, where I still am. I don't dare venture down the stairs for fear of falling. My blood transfusions have worn off a bit and my stability isn't as good as it was right away. But, I'm stronger every day.
I'm taking a nice cocktail of prescription drugs for pain, muscle spasms, nausea, and antibiotics. I have to empty and measure my drain tubes a couple of times a day. That's gross, but I can do it. I need a lot of help to do just about everything right now. It's ridiculous actually, but every breath I take hurts. Every move I make. Wait, that's a song. It's true though.
The thing that sucks is: before my surgery, I felt just fine. I had no problems. Not a pain, not nausea, or anything. I was just fine! Except for having breast cancer, but since there were absolutely no symptoms of that, it didn't feel like I had anything. After the surgery that cures the cancer, I am in a lot of pain and I feel like a helpless old lady. This is hard to comprehend in my mind.
Doesn't matter. I am very happy to be home after the long stay in the hospital! Not sure if I'm cancer free yet, the lymph node report isn't back. I can't hug my kids yet, but I get to see them! Being home sure feels good!
It's done. Cancerous boob is gone, so is the other one and the little nubbins on my abdomen. They also took some lymph nodes from under my arm. Then they placed a mesh sling and a silicone implant under my chest muscle on each side.
I got there and got all prepped. This included an iv and a couple of shots in the armpit. The plastic surgeon came in and drew lots of lines all over my chest, boobs and belly with a marker. Long lines. I sure hoped he wasn't planning on slicing that much! He didn't. But it was a bit unnerving having the surgeon draw lots of long lines. The general surgeon was an hour late, but he got there. Everyone there, so they knocked me out and did their thing.
I guess the surgery was from 10am to 3pm or something like that. I don't know exactly.
I woke up to nurses over me. It was a blur. They wheeled me to my room and didn't have to move me to another bed, I was already in the bed. Whew. I was worried about them moving me after reading a blog where a gal was moved and the nurse pulled her arm to move her over and pulled out some interior stitching.
The next thing I remember is they were situating all the tubes and cords and things, and one little gal who didn't have her hair tied back said "I'll remove the catheter" and I suddenly came to enough to yell "No! Leave it in!" She left it in. I knew I wasn't going to hop up and go potty in a couple of hours and I was on an iv drip. Yer dang right, I want the catheter! I was actually glad to hear I had one.
Friday is very vague in my mind. I remember bits but I don't really know if they were Friday or another day. Keith said I asked him the same questions over again. I know they brought me dinner. Really? Was I supposed to sit up and eat dinner after spending 5 hours under anesthesia? Yuck.
Slowly, most of the tubes and wires and things came out. After surgery I had an oxygen tube poked up my nose, two drain tubes coming out of my sides, two wires, or tubes or a combination of, not sure, poked into me at the tip of my sternum, the catheter, and the iv. When I left five days later, I only left with the drain tubes. Still have 'em in fact. And, yup, they're gross.
I got blood drawn every day and I got shots in my belly every day too. Have I ever mentioned my fun little needle phobia? Yeah..... I'm so happy to be home!
I should have only been there for two or three days. Most people get booted out after one night. My extended stay was due to anemia. I could not sit up much and I certainly couldn't stand. The day after surgery a guy from physical therapy came into my room with a walker and a gait strap. I told him right away we weren't using the strap. I have incisions on my belly too. He said he'd put it down low. I said no. And then I couldn't even stand up, so it wasn't an issue. He was kind of hot headed and left the room annoyed with me for not standing up. I couldn't though.
The next day another physical terrorist came to see me and she did the same. I told her I wouldn't unless there was another person to help stand me up. She's only one person and can only stand one side of me. She's only got two arms. She argued and said she was trained and I said I might fall and I need to feel safe. She was annoyed too. Those people from the PT department sure don't like to be told how to do things. But, she got the nurse to stand on the other side of me while I tried to stand upright. She leaned me over till my legs took a step and then she celebrated.
My doctor came in and diagnosed me with severe anemia. He said I was borderline when I came in, my level was at a 12 or so, but he explained that surgery and even a little blood loss causes your hemoglobin levels to take a dip. My dip was more of a plummet. My iron levels were between 2 and 3. He ordered two blood transfusions and two extra days in the hospital. This is how I came to have a five-day stay.
After the blood transfusions, I felt a world better! I got up and walked down the hall. I got my catheter out and had a fairly easy time using the bathroom by myself. But, I couldn't actually get from laying to being upright without help because my chest muscles are in a lot of pain, my back hurts so bad from being down for so long, and my arms are also useless. I can't push or pull myself up. I was still getting dizzy easily, but at least I wasn't feeling like I would melt into the floor. I could stand.
I was released on Wednesday and they wheeled me to the car. Keith got me out and walked me straight up the stairs to our room, where I still am. I don't dare venture down the stairs for fear of falling. My blood transfusions have worn off a bit and my stability isn't as good as it was right away. But, I'm stronger every day.
I'm taking a nice cocktail of prescription drugs for pain, muscle spasms, nausea, and antibiotics. I have to empty and measure my drain tubes a couple of times a day. That's gross, but I can do it. I need a lot of help to do just about everything right now. It's ridiculous actually, but every breath I take hurts. Every move I make. Wait, that's a song. It's true though.
The thing that sucks is: before my surgery, I felt just fine. I had no problems. Not a pain, not nausea, or anything. I was just fine! Except for having breast cancer, but since there were absolutely no symptoms of that, it didn't feel like I had anything. After the surgery that cures the cancer, I am in a lot of pain and I feel like a helpless old lady. This is hard to comprehend in my mind.
Doesn't matter. I am very happy to be home after the long stay in the hospital! Not sure if I'm cancer free yet, the lymph node report isn't back. I can't hug my kids yet, but I get to see them! Being home sure feels good!
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Pre-Op Registration and a Surprise Lab Test
Two days before my surgery, the hospital finally called with preregistration and scheduling information. The surgical nurse who called (at 11am) wanted to know if I could come in for a pre-surgery admission interview before 2pm. Sure. I've just been twiddling my thumbs wondering when I could run over there and fill out a pile of paperwork.
I went straight to the hospital and filled out all the paperwork for admission. I don't have a lot of faith in the preregistration process at the hospital, but I did it anyway. Why don't I? Funny you should ask:
Five years ago, I preregistered at both hospitals (which isn't necessary since they are under the same health care system and if you register at one, you are automatically registered at both). Then I was sent to this very same hospital that I am having this mastectomy surgery to be induced or have a c-section for Libby's birth. Oddly enough, I had to fill out registration forms again. And then I spent the day being induced, dodged the c-section, and went home still pregnant, but that's not the point I'm getting after. When she was born two weeks later, we went to the other hospital in active labor and guess what, they didn't have any record of my preregistration which has now been done three times. My husband had to fill out a pile of paperwork while I stood there screaming in labor and my water was puddling under me on the floor. Libby was born 45 minutes later. So, I have a developed distrust for the hospital's preregistration process.
During my presurgery registration interview with the surgical nurse, she said I needed to go have my blood drawn for labwork. Oh no I do not! I did that already, thank you very much. She said, yes, she has that information, but the lab neglected to run a pregnancy test on the blood so I have to do it again. No. I will not. I am not pregnant, the test is not necessary and too bad if they forgot. After she again said her piece about how they need to know if a patient is pregnant or not, I again explained to her that they do know. I just told her. I then told her I would take a urine test. Pregnancy can be detected by a urine test! No, she wants blood. Too bad, I'm not doing it. She says they won't do the surgery unless I do. Why? Why get hung up on one stupid little thing. Why didn't they do it in the first place? Why am I supposed to believe they are competent and can take care of me if they forget to run standard tests? During this whole debate, I was very upset. Of course I was very upset, who wouldn't be!
I lost the debate. She said I had to go to the lab down the hall and have blood drawn. I told her I would do it later, but certainly not now. I'm too upset. I need to calm down, go home and take some anxiety medicine, and I'd come back before the surgery. She said I had until 8pm. For as much of a jerk as she was, she was very nice about it.
I went home, cried it out, took some Ativan (a double dose), went to get the kids from school and pretended I had a good day, and next thing you know it was 7pm. I had to go by myself because my husband had to watch the kids, so I went. The lab waiting area was empty, at least I didn't have to wait long. The guy found my paperwork and told me to sit in a chair. I said, No. I have to lay down or you'll have to scrape me off the floor. Ohhhh, ok. This guy has no idea who he's dealing with here.
I did pretty well. The guy was nice and he was surprised that he only had to run one test. I told him it's because the other lab "forgot" to run the stupid test and it's completely unnecessary and a waste of his valuable time and effort. He said ok.
Everyone is just fine with wasting their time on this. Everyone except me. I could be having a decent evening with my family instead of being used like a pincushion. And guess what? I'm not pregnant. Surprise. Gee, I was telling the truth? Another guess what: There's a urine test for pregnancy. It's accurate and doesn't involve needles. How does a hospital who is supposed to be caring for me do the worst possible job of caring for me? I'm super worried about having a major surgery here. We are not off to a good start. Plus, I am pretty sure the whole preregistration thing is going to be lost between today and tomorrow. Heh.
Pre-surgery mood: Dark and dreary. Blech.
I went straight to the hospital and filled out all the paperwork for admission. I don't have a lot of faith in the preregistration process at the hospital, but I did it anyway. Why don't I? Funny you should ask:
Five years ago, I preregistered at both hospitals (which isn't necessary since they are under the same health care system and if you register at one, you are automatically registered at both). Then I was sent to this very same hospital that I am having this mastectomy surgery to be induced or have a c-section for Libby's birth. Oddly enough, I had to fill out registration forms again. And then I spent the day being induced, dodged the c-section, and went home still pregnant, but that's not the point I'm getting after. When she was born two weeks later, we went to the other hospital in active labor and guess what, they didn't have any record of my preregistration which has now been done three times. My husband had to fill out a pile of paperwork while I stood there screaming in labor and my water was puddling under me on the floor. Libby was born 45 minutes later. So, I have a developed distrust for the hospital's preregistration process.
During my presurgery registration interview with the surgical nurse, she said I needed to go have my blood drawn for labwork. Oh no I do not! I did that already, thank you very much. She said, yes, she has that information, but the lab neglected to run a pregnancy test on the blood so I have to do it again. No. I will not. I am not pregnant, the test is not necessary and too bad if they forgot. After she again said her piece about how they need to know if a patient is pregnant or not, I again explained to her that they do know. I just told her. I then told her I would take a urine test. Pregnancy can be detected by a urine test! No, she wants blood. Too bad, I'm not doing it. She says they won't do the surgery unless I do. Why? Why get hung up on one stupid little thing. Why didn't they do it in the first place? Why am I supposed to believe they are competent and can take care of me if they forget to run standard tests? During this whole debate, I was very upset. Of course I was very upset, who wouldn't be!
I lost the debate. She said I had to go to the lab down the hall and have blood drawn. I told her I would do it later, but certainly not now. I'm too upset. I need to calm down, go home and take some anxiety medicine, and I'd come back before the surgery. She said I had until 8pm. For as much of a jerk as she was, she was very nice about it.
I went home, cried it out, took some Ativan (a double dose), went to get the kids from school and pretended I had a good day, and next thing you know it was 7pm. I had to go by myself because my husband had to watch the kids, so I went. The lab waiting area was empty, at least I didn't have to wait long. The guy found my paperwork and told me to sit in a chair. I said, No. I have to lay down or you'll have to scrape me off the floor. Ohhhh, ok. This guy has no idea who he's dealing with here.
I did pretty well. The guy was nice and he was surprised that he only had to run one test. I told him it's because the other lab "forgot" to run the stupid test and it's completely unnecessary and a waste of his valuable time and effort. He said ok.
Everyone is just fine with wasting their time on this. Everyone except me. I could be having a decent evening with my family instead of being used like a pincushion. And guess what? I'm not pregnant. Surprise. Gee, I was telling the truth? Another guess what: There's a urine test for pregnancy. It's accurate and doesn't involve needles. How does a hospital who is supposed to be caring for me do the worst possible job of caring for me? I'm super worried about having a major surgery here. We are not off to a good start. Plus, I am pretty sure the whole preregistration thing is going to be lost between today and tomorrow. Heh.
Pre-surgery mood: Dark and dreary. Blech.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Pre-Surgery To-Do List
Prepare my perch. I need to get the grabber that we bought at the tool store and have it handy. I won't be able to reach things, like itches on my toes and stuff like that. Need to have books, water, meds, phone and whatever I want right next to my bed. I should have a lazy boy brought up to my room to sleep in the first week.
Pockets. I will need pockets inside of my clothing and pajamas to hold the drains.
Will also need to sew armpit pillows and drain bag bags.
Breast Pockets: http://melanietesta.com/tag/breast-pockets/
Baby Wipes and Dry Shampoo. Needed since I won't be able to bathe or wash my hair for a week or more.
Medication bottles: I won't be able to open them, have them open and where I can reach them.
Gas up the car and clean it out.
Make sure girls have enough socks and undies lined up and ready.
Move lazy boy upstairs and a case of water.
Have all rugs shampooed, floors mopped, bathrooms bleached.
Wash everyone's bedding.
Clean out the refrigerator.
Get a pedicure. My entire body will feel like crap, at least my toes can look pretty.
I finished making potholders as thank you gifts for meal deliveries, and I bought a couple of packs of thank you cards. For that, I think I'm ready.
Pockets. I will need pockets inside of my clothing and pajamas to hold the drains.
Will also need to sew armpit pillows and drain bag bags.
Breast Pockets: http://melanietesta.com/tag/breast-pockets/
Baby Wipes and Dry Shampoo. Needed since I won't be able to bathe or wash my hair for a week or more.
Medication bottles: I won't be able to open them, have them open and where I can reach them.
Gas up the car and clean it out.
Make sure girls have enough socks and undies lined up and ready.
Move lazy boy upstairs and a case of water.
Have all rugs shampooed, floors mopped, bathrooms bleached.
Wash everyone's bedding.
Clean out the refrigerator.
Get a pedicure. My entire body will feel like crap, at least my toes can look pretty.
I finished making potholders as thank you gifts for meal deliveries, and I bought a couple of packs of thank you cards. For that, I think I'm ready.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Socializing Without Tears
Socializing has become increasingly difficult. Suddenly, everyone wants to hug me, whisper a condolence, ask how I'm holding up, wish me the best, give encouragement, or just give me a sympathetic look. And there are those who actually have questions such as "What's your plan? Have you told the kids? When are you going to do that? Which hospital? What time do you check in? How do they do that? Are you nervous? Friday, right?" Etc, etc, etc. The questions are endless and difficult to answer.
I know everyone means well. That's really the only thing that isn't keeping me from running away screaming. But, breast cancer has become casual conversation recently and to me, it's way too big to trivialize. Every time someone says something or pats my shoulder in support, I get a lump in my throat and fight off tears.
And it's always in front of my kids!
I've been forced to get through these small conversations with a fake smile and a "thank you for thinking of me" while choking back some big emotions that are always just on the surface.
The truth is: I'm hanging in there. I'm nervous and scared to pieces. I'm barely holding back a complete emotional breakdown, and the slightest thing will chip a hole in my wall and bring me crashing down. Honestly, I'm not doing great but I'm doing the best I can. I don't even know how to answer the "how are you?" question because people want a thoughtful answer and I can't give one.
I do like the support and encouragement and concern, don't get me wrong. It means so much to me that people are cheering for me! It's unreal how many people are praying for me and wishing me well! That alone makes me well up! All of the warm smiles are building me up! I don't want to discourage that! I just wish I were stronger and could handle it without sobbing like a fool.
Yesterday was particularly rough. We went to the third birthday party in a week's time and that in itself was a challenge, add in my anxiety, social awkwardness, and the feeling like I'm wearing a giant pink target on my chest and it's a recipe for emotional disaster.
I should have known though because we went to a birthday party last weekend and it was hard to socialize. People kept coming up to me and wanting to talk about my breast cancer battle. At a happy birthday party! As heartwarming as it is, it's hard to get through one conversation after another, and another, and another. Then we had Gracie's birthday party, which was another gathering of wonderful people and friends who care. And they want to talk to me about it in between interruptions with the kids. Yesterday, I think I was just on the edge and we went to another birthday party. This one was very hard socially. Everyone wanted to share their support and ask how I'm doing. I must have had 50 small talk conversations about what I'm facing. Then we went to dance recital rehearsal and some of the dance moms were the same way. At least I don't know them all. I had two quick conversations that did not involve any conversation about cancer. They saved the day! Both were men, and one of them knows about what I'm going through.
I understand. I'm a mom and my friends are moms. This is how we talk to each other about everything! We talk in small bits in between kid interruptions. It's impossible to have a meaningful conversation when you have small kids, especially when we get together and have a big bunch of small children running amuck. All conversations are treated like small talk because that's all we can squeeze in!
I've decided to minimize my social interaction for the rest of the week. I do have to go to the dance recital tonight, but other than that, this week I'm only going to socialize with my best friends and keep out of crowds. Socializing in a crowd and having quicky conversations is just too hard right now.
My surgery is on Friday and I'm freaking out. I am barely holding it together and I need to channel my energy to keep from imploding. And I need to be a decent mom for the kids for a few more days. I hope this doesn't come off sounding ungrateful or unfriendly. I'm just a mess and I know my weakness: too much love makes me buckle under!
I know everyone means well. That's really the only thing that isn't keeping me from running away screaming. But, breast cancer has become casual conversation recently and to me, it's way too big to trivialize. Every time someone says something or pats my shoulder in support, I get a lump in my throat and fight off tears.
And it's always in front of my kids!
I've been forced to get through these small conversations with a fake smile and a "thank you for thinking of me" while choking back some big emotions that are always just on the surface.
The truth is: I'm hanging in there. I'm nervous and scared to pieces. I'm barely holding back a complete emotional breakdown, and the slightest thing will chip a hole in my wall and bring me crashing down. Honestly, I'm not doing great but I'm doing the best I can. I don't even know how to answer the "how are you?" question because people want a thoughtful answer and I can't give one.
I do like the support and encouragement and concern, don't get me wrong. It means so much to me that people are cheering for me! It's unreal how many people are praying for me and wishing me well! That alone makes me well up! All of the warm smiles are building me up! I don't want to discourage that! I just wish I were stronger and could handle it without sobbing like a fool.
Yesterday was particularly rough. We went to the third birthday party in a week's time and that in itself was a challenge, add in my anxiety, social awkwardness, and the feeling like I'm wearing a giant pink target on my chest and it's a recipe for emotional disaster.
I should have known though because we went to a birthday party last weekend and it was hard to socialize. People kept coming up to me and wanting to talk about my breast cancer battle. At a happy birthday party! As heartwarming as it is, it's hard to get through one conversation after another, and another, and another. Then we had Gracie's birthday party, which was another gathering of wonderful people and friends who care. And they want to talk to me about it in between interruptions with the kids. Yesterday, I think I was just on the edge and we went to another birthday party. This one was very hard socially. Everyone wanted to share their support and ask how I'm doing. I must have had 50 small talk conversations about what I'm facing. Then we went to dance recital rehearsal and some of the dance moms were the same way. At least I don't know them all. I had two quick conversations that did not involve any conversation about cancer. They saved the day! Both were men, and one of them knows about what I'm going through.
I understand. I'm a mom and my friends are moms. This is how we talk to each other about everything! We talk in small bits in between kid interruptions. It's impossible to have a meaningful conversation when you have small kids, especially when we get together and have a big bunch of small children running amuck. All conversations are treated like small talk because that's all we can squeeze in!
I've decided to minimize my social interaction for the rest of the week. I do have to go to the dance recital tonight, but other than that, this week I'm only going to socialize with my best friends and keep out of crowds. Socializing in a crowd and having quicky conversations is just too hard right now.
My surgery is on Friday and I'm freaking out. I am barely holding it together and I need to channel my energy to keep from imploding. And I need to be a decent mom for the kids for a few more days. I hope this doesn't come off sounding ungrateful or unfriendly. I'm just a mess and I know my weakness: too much love makes me buckle under!
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Boob Support
I went to a breast cancer support group at Michelle's Place the other day. It was really nice to meet other local women and as awful as it is to be qualified to be a part of the group, the group is there and it is a great resource and network for people who do need it. People like me.
There were several women at the support group. All but one looked quite a bit older than me. The facilitator had everyone speak and she started with me since I was the newest to the group. I said when I was diagnosed and what my surgery plan was.
As the women spoke and said what they were going through, what they've been through, I felt more and more like my decision to do a double mastectomy with immediate reconstruction was the right one. Most of the women who chose a lumpectomy or single mastectomy were dealing with a repeat case of breast cancer. They validated my decision to not only remove my cancer but also take drastic measures to prevent a recurrence.
Some of the women had other issues as well. More than one of them was having problems dealing with the financial and insurance side of the treatments. Honestly, I haven't thought about that much because I've left that for my husband to deal with. He has saved me from a lot of added worry. Our insurance seems to be a good one since he hasn't had to fuss with them (yet). So far, we've only had to pay the co-pay for each office visit.
It was really nice to go to the breast cancer support group. Real people who understand. It's nice to know I'm not alone. I mean, I know I'm not, but, well... in a way I am doing this alone. It's me who has to go through all of this. Everyone is on the sideline for me cheering me on, but I am the one being shoved through the operating room door.
I'll be going back to this group. They only meet once a month, so I'm not sure when I can go back again. I wish they met every day. I have a feeling they know a lot of things and are willing to share, but I'll have to learn it on my own since I won't see them again for a while.
There were several women at the support group. All but one looked quite a bit older than me. The facilitator had everyone speak and she started with me since I was the newest to the group. I said when I was diagnosed and what my surgery plan was.
As the women spoke and said what they were going through, what they've been through, I felt more and more like my decision to do a double mastectomy with immediate reconstruction was the right one. Most of the women who chose a lumpectomy or single mastectomy were dealing with a repeat case of breast cancer. They validated my decision to not only remove my cancer but also take drastic measures to prevent a recurrence.
Some of the women had other issues as well. More than one of them was having problems dealing with the financial and insurance side of the treatments. Honestly, I haven't thought about that much because I've left that for my husband to deal with. He has saved me from a lot of added worry. Our insurance seems to be a good one since he hasn't had to fuss with them (yet). So far, we've only had to pay the co-pay for each office visit.
It was really nice to go to the breast cancer support group. Real people who understand. It's nice to know I'm not alone. I mean, I know I'm not, but, well... in a way I am doing this alone. It's me who has to go through all of this. Everyone is on the sideline for me cheering me on, but I am the one being shoved through the operating room door.
I'll be going back to this group. They only meet once a month, so I'm not sure when I can go back again. I wish they met every day. I have a feeling they know a lot of things and are willing to share, but I'll have to learn it on my own since I won't see them again for a while.
Silicone Surgeon Appointment
Wow, my blog is quickly turning into a breast cancer journal. Sorry. But I guess that's all that's going on lately. At least, it's all I think about now.
Keith took the day off and we went to see the plastic surgeon in San Diego. I was kind of surprised that he took the day off to come with me. I want him to use his days off when I have surgery; I'll need him afterward too! When I had Libby, he only got three days off and that wasn't nearly enough! But I was really glad he came with me because I'm so overwhelmed with this that I'm not able to retain a lot of information when it all comes at me so fast. My brain has been stunned. He is a great listener and he asks the questions I can only think of later.
I woke up with a migraine and battled it all day long. I was having a very rough time of it too. I was nauseous and everything. It was painful and yucky! What a day for a doctor appointment when I want to be able to think clearly, I cannot.
We had to take two cars because Keith teaches in San Diego in the evening, so I would either have to hang out until he was done with his class or come home. I really wanted to come home after the appointment with that headache and relieve the babysitter too. Although, I didn't want to drive!
We met in front of the building where Keith teaches and then he hopped in with me. He didn't want to though because my car stinks. We can't locate the stink or get rid of it! Ack! It smells like something died in the air intake. Nice, huh?
When I drive and he is the passenger, I'm nervous! As if I wasn't nervous enough already, geez. I had to park in downtown San Diego with a migraine, and a passenger who puts me on edge. ugh. I managed to do it though and he said, "Are you always this nervous when you drive?" I said, "No. Well, sort of, maybe close, but not really. You make me more nervous!" Plus, we were going to the doctor. I'm amazed that I got us there.
The doctor's office was above the iHop restaurant. Isn't that odd? For some reason, I really find that funny! We entered through a little door on the street and went up above the iHop to the clinic.
The doctor and nurse were very nice. We talked about the reconstruction phase of the surgery and the doctor showed us the two types of implants used these days. We decided on the teardrop gummy bear implants. The other choice was the round saline filled implants. The reason I decided on the teardrop gummy bears was 1. they can be place in right away, 2. the shelf life of 20 years and 3. the shape. Maybe the other kind can be placed in right away too, I don't know, but the doctor can place these implants in during the mastectomy surgery so I won't have to have a separate reconstruction surgery.
The option I did not choose was to have expanders put in. If I get expanders put in, then I'd have to get them filled every few weeks with more saline. They stretch the muscle and skin and prepare your body for the implants. Six months after the expanders are placed in, a surgery to swap the expanders for implants is done. I'm not going to get injections in my boobs to fill them every few weeks and I'm not going to have a second surgery. That's just not going to happen. If I don't get the implants right away then I'm not getting any.
To alleviate the stretching issue, he will sew in a mesh sling to hold up the implants and make a pocket for them. They go under the chest muscle. He said the stretching might be more painful than if I had the expanders. I thought, oh hell, I had engorgement when I nursed. It's probably just as painful as that! And I did that four times now. With engorgement you wake up one morning and bam, watermelon size boobs. And they hurt! As long as they aren't as huge as watermelons, I think I'll do ok. Plus, they'll give me pain meds.
He kept telling me he would put in the biggest he had, the biggest he could get in, he would use a big set, big, big, big... I told him I don't want to be big, just average, medium, not a Friday Night set. I can't believe I said "Friday Night set" to the doctor! My husband was turning red and squirming. Poor guy. Anyway, we decided on a C, which is nice and average.
Then I had to be examined, measured and photographed. Ok, let me just say, that was weird!
After the appointment, Keith and I went out for lunch. He had a specific place in mind and when we pulled up in front of it, I said, "Dance Hall and Saloon? Really?" Oops. We decided to have lunch at BJ's instead. Home of the Pazookie. We didn't have a pazookie, but our lunch was very good. I needed to eat. My headache wasn't any better yet.
It was nice to have lunch with my husband for once. We were able to discuss the surgery, the cancer, the recovery, the impact on our family, the future, the past, just everything. Except for when our food was placed in front of us, then we went silent and just ate like we always do. Then we laughed because Keith quoted something his friend said to us once when we did this, "Shhh. The Schumachers are eating."
Keith took the day off and we went to see the plastic surgeon in San Diego. I was kind of surprised that he took the day off to come with me. I want him to use his days off when I have surgery; I'll need him afterward too! When I had Libby, he only got three days off and that wasn't nearly enough! But I was really glad he came with me because I'm so overwhelmed with this that I'm not able to retain a lot of information when it all comes at me so fast. My brain has been stunned. He is a great listener and he asks the questions I can only think of later.
I woke up with a migraine and battled it all day long. I was having a very rough time of it too. I was nauseous and everything. It was painful and yucky! What a day for a doctor appointment when I want to be able to think clearly, I cannot.
We had to take two cars because Keith teaches in San Diego in the evening, so I would either have to hang out until he was done with his class or come home. I really wanted to come home after the appointment with that headache and relieve the babysitter too. Although, I didn't want to drive!
We met in front of the building where Keith teaches and then he hopped in with me. He didn't want to though because my car stinks. We can't locate the stink or get rid of it! Ack! It smells like something died in the air intake. Nice, huh?
When I drive and he is the passenger, I'm nervous! As if I wasn't nervous enough already, geez. I had to park in downtown San Diego with a migraine, and a passenger who puts me on edge. ugh. I managed to do it though and he said, "Are you always this nervous when you drive?" I said, "No. Well, sort of, maybe close, but not really. You make me more nervous!" Plus, we were going to the doctor. I'm amazed that I got us there.
The doctor's office was above the iHop restaurant. Isn't that odd? For some reason, I really find that funny! We entered through a little door on the street and went up above the iHop to the clinic.
The doctor and nurse were very nice. We talked about the reconstruction phase of the surgery and the doctor showed us the two types of implants used these days. We decided on the teardrop gummy bear implants. The other choice was the round saline filled implants. The reason I decided on the teardrop gummy bears was 1. they can be place in right away, 2. the shelf life of 20 years and 3. the shape. Maybe the other kind can be placed in right away too, I don't know, but the doctor can place these implants in during the mastectomy surgery so I won't have to have a separate reconstruction surgery.
The option I did not choose was to have expanders put in. If I get expanders put in, then I'd have to get them filled every few weeks with more saline. They stretch the muscle and skin and prepare your body for the implants. Six months after the expanders are placed in, a surgery to swap the expanders for implants is done. I'm not going to get injections in my boobs to fill them every few weeks and I'm not going to have a second surgery. That's just not going to happen. If I don't get the implants right away then I'm not getting any.
To alleviate the stretching issue, he will sew in a mesh sling to hold up the implants and make a pocket for them. They go under the chest muscle. He said the stretching might be more painful than if I had the expanders. I thought, oh hell, I had engorgement when I nursed. It's probably just as painful as that! And I did that four times now. With engorgement you wake up one morning and bam, watermelon size boobs. And they hurt! As long as they aren't as huge as watermelons, I think I'll do ok. Plus, they'll give me pain meds.
He kept telling me he would put in the biggest he had, the biggest he could get in, he would use a big set, big, big, big... I told him I don't want to be big, just average, medium, not a Friday Night set. I can't believe I said "Friday Night set" to the doctor! My husband was turning red and squirming. Poor guy. Anyway, we decided on a C, which is nice and average.
Then I had to be examined, measured and photographed. Ok, let me just say, that was weird!
After the appointment, Keith and I went out for lunch. He had a specific place in mind and when we pulled up in front of it, I said, "Dance Hall and Saloon? Really?" Oops. We decided to have lunch at BJ's instead. Home of the Pazookie. We didn't have a pazookie, but our lunch was very good. I needed to eat. My headache wasn't any better yet.
It was nice to have lunch with my husband for once. We were able to discuss the surgery, the cancer, the recovery, the impact on our family, the future, the past, just everything. Except for when our food was placed in front of us, then we went silent and just ate like we always do. Then we laughed because Keith quoted something his friend said to us once when we did this, "Shhh. The Schumachers are eating."
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Surgery is March 21st
Just got the phone call today from the plastic surgeon's office. The plastic surgeon and the breast cancer surgeon and the operating room are only all available at one time: March 21st at 7am.
Coordinating the three is quite a challenge for the offices I guess. The operating room needs to be available for four hours for this surgery. Hope
The date was "the end of April" and then it was "April 18", and then it was "April 7th or 9th" and now March 21st! If they call again I will scream! It keeps getting closer and closer!
March 21st is the day my husband plans to leave for South Dakota. He's taking our 8 year old and the two of them plan to have a fun road-trip for a week. Gracie is really really excited for her Daddy-Only vacation! Now they won't be able to go. I feel badly for ruining her vacation that she is super excited about. She will be crushed when she finds out.
Keith's spring break starts that weekend. He is off for a full week, which is why he was going to South Dakota that week. Instead he will take care of me and the kids on his spring break. Might be the best way to time this surgery I guess, as if we had any say in the timing.
But March 21st will be the day that my husband drives me to the hospital instead of driving our daughter off for a fun road trip. Surgery is scheduled for 7am, so I'm sure I will be told to check in a couple of hours before that time. Pre-op appointments start tomorrow.
Coordinating the three is quite a challenge for the offices I guess. The operating room needs to be available for four hours for this surgery. Hope
The date was "the end of April" and then it was "April 18", and then it was "April 7th or 9th" and now March 21st! If they call again I will scream! It keeps getting closer and closer!
March 21st is the day my husband plans to leave for South Dakota. He's taking our 8 year old and the two of them plan to have a fun road-trip for a week. Gracie is really really excited for her Daddy-Only vacation! Now they won't be able to go. I feel badly for ruining her vacation that she is super excited about. She will be crushed when she finds out.
Keith's spring break starts that weekend. He is off for a full week, which is why he was going to South Dakota that week. Instead he will take care of me and the kids on his spring break. Might be the best way to time this surgery I guess, as if we had any say in the timing.
But March 21st will be the day that my husband drives me to the hospital instead of driving our daughter off for a fun road trip. Surgery is scheduled for 7am, so I'm sure I will be told to check in a couple of hours before that time. Pre-op appointments start tomorrow.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Quadruple Mastectomy - Surgeon Appointment #2
You know what every mom wants is a little quiet time, some time to sit and not have someone sitting on you, a time when nobody is begging, whining, crying, screaming all while the housework is calling your name. I got some of that time, while I was waiting in the waiting room for 90 minutes. It's not all that it's cracked up to be. In fact, 10 minutes would have been plenty.
Saw the doc for about a minute.
He said he needed the MRI results and didn't have them. Then he said, "Ok. Never mind. It isn't necessary." Wait? What? Then why did I have to go there and do it? I freaked out for nothing? I almost endured something that wasn't even necessary? Oh, the hell.
I could have gone through with it for no reason. Only to have a piece of non-essential paper in my fat medical file. Thanks to my non-necessary MRI freak out, I am now diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Ugh.
Since there were no MRI results, there was nothing for him to see me for. He said the next time I see him is in surgery. Did I have any questions? Yes. What about my little nubbins on my abdomen? Is there breast tissue in them and should they be removed? I only have cancer in one boob and yet they are removing the other as a prevention, so should they remove the other two too?
The doc was all excited. Two more? Let me see! I showed him and he was like a little kid at Christmas. Yes, I have two little supernumerary or auxiliary nipples. They're small, but they are there. They never produced milk when I was nursing my babies, so I don't think they are real breasts but I don't know what's under them. He said they have a little pad of fat or breast tissue, but probably no milk ducts. He said I can keep them or remove them, but if I keep them, they'll be the only two and then I'll look really funny. Honestly, I don't care if I look funny. I care about getting breast cancer again. I told him that and he agreed. Even a tiny piece of breast tissue can get breast cancer.
Then he went completely silly. He said "Quadruple Mastectomy! The insurance company will audit me now!" And he laughed and said he is going to love doing this surgery. "So unique! Four breasts and one patient!" Aww, well, ok.
He looked at the file and said "oh, you haven't seen the plastic surgeon yet. When are you doing that?" I told him I don't have an appointment and I can't get one.
Because... they need paperwork from this office and they haven't received it. I've made several phone calls to this office and that office and they said they would talk to each other. This office says they have faxed what that office needs but that office hasn't received it, so I don't have an appointment. He didn't like that story.
He opened the door and said "Make it happen right now" to the receptionist and she immediately faxed the papers. Awesome.
I now have a plastic surgeon appointment on March 10th, even though that office has a pile of fax cover sheets and no actual information from the cancer surgeon's office. I offered to carry copies of the paperwork from one office to the other. They said they'll call each other and figure it out. You girls go ahead and do that.
Saw the doc for about a minute.
He said he needed the MRI results and didn't have them. Then he said, "Ok. Never mind. It isn't necessary." Wait? What? Then why did I have to go there and do it? I freaked out for nothing? I almost endured something that wasn't even necessary? Oh, the hell.
I could have gone through with it for no reason. Only to have a piece of non-essential paper in my fat medical file. Thanks to my non-necessary MRI freak out, I am now diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Ugh.
Since there were no MRI results, there was nothing for him to see me for. He said the next time I see him is in surgery. Did I have any questions? Yes. What about my little nubbins on my abdomen? Is there breast tissue in them and should they be removed? I only have cancer in one boob and yet they are removing the other as a prevention, so should they remove the other two too?
The doc was all excited. Two more? Let me see! I showed him and he was like a little kid at Christmas. Yes, I have two little supernumerary or auxiliary nipples. They're small, but they are there. They never produced milk when I was nursing my babies, so I don't think they are real breasts but I don't know what's under them. He said they have a little pad of fat or breast tissue, but probably no milk ducts. He said I can keep them or remove them, but if I keep them, they'll be the only two and then I'll look really funny. Honestly, I don't care if I look funny. I care about getting breast cancer again. I told him that and he agreed. Even a tiny piece of breast tissue can get breast cancer.
Then he went completely silly. He said "Quadruple Mastectomy! The insurance company will audit me now!" And he laughed and said he is going to love doing this surgery. "So unique! Four breasts and one patient!" Aww, well, ok.
He looked at the file and said "oh, you haven't seen the plastic surgeon yet. When are you doing that?" I told him I don't have an appointment and I can't get one.
Because... they need paperwork from this office and they haven't received it. I've made several phone calls to this office and that office and they said they would talk to each other. This office says they have faxed what that office needs but that office hasn't received it, so I don't have an appointment. He didn't like that story.
He opened the door and said "Make it happen right now" to the receptionist and she immediately faxed the papers. Awesome.
I now have a plastic surgeon appointment on March 10th, even though that office has a pile of fax cover sheets and no actual information from the cancer surgeon's office. I offered to carry copies of the paperwork from one office to the other. They said they'll call each other and figure it out. You girls go ahead and do that.
Anxiety Appointment
Since my MRI was a non-event, I decided I'd better get a handle on my anxiety. It's bigger than me and I'm not strong enough to do this breast cancer thing by trying to tough it out. Obviously!
I called my primary care doctor and made an appointment to either treat or refer me out to be treated for anxiety.
The nurse weighed me. Ugh. Up until this point, they've been asking me how much I weigh, and I give them a good guess since I don't actually know. I don't weigh myself! Well, I'm at my lifetime high. Not great news but not a surprise.
The nurse said my blood pressure was a little high. That's never happened. Really, never in my life has my blood pressure even been on the higher end of normal. Guess it's about time for that to go wrong too.
The doctor came in and he sat down and asked a few general questions. I told him I'm struggling with anxiety on a fairly constant basis, peaks, some panic attacks mixed in. He asked about my life and I told him that I've been married for 25 years, and I'm a stay at home mom with three kids at home, my two daughters age 7 and 5 who I homeschool part-time and my 3 year old grandson who I watch while my older daughter works. That was enough info for him.
He went on and on about parenting and marriage. The doc gave me all kinds of advice about this and that, without even asking me if there were problems. He had most of it right, probably because all parents have the same general concerns and struggles, but he was reaching on other things. That's ok. I listened to him anyway.
Some of his advice was to cuss. Cuss a lot and say bad words. Let it out. And, read to my kids. Well and good, I will continue to read to my kids and I will not cuss. I still just want to be the same me that I've always been; I kinda like me that way. But, I nodded and said ok.
He wanted to hear more about the panic attacks and so I told him about the breast cancer diagnosis and the biopsy and MRI. I told him the 6mg of valium did nothing for me.
The doctor blew out a big sigh and diagnosed me with depression, anxiety and panic attacks. Oh. Depression? Must be a package deal. Whatever, that's fine. I just want to get through the anxiety. He prescribed Zoloft and Ativan. Great. Hook me up!
He said he will up my dosage in 30 days. I have to remember to call in or make another appointment I guess.
So, now I have these medications and I'm afraid to take them! I don't want to be a mom-zombie. And I still need my wits about me to drive safely. Feeling very anxious to take anxiety meds. Isn't that a kicker?
I called my primary care doctor and made an appointment to either treat or refer me out to be treated for anxiety.
The nurse weighed me. Ugh. Up until this point, they've been asking me how much I weigh, and I give them a good guess since I don't actually know. I don't weigh myself! Well, I'm at my lifetime high. Not great news but not a surprise.
The nurse said my blood pressure was a little high. That's never happened. Really, never in my life has my blood pressure even been on the higher end of normal. Guess it's about time for that to go wrong too.
The doctor came in and he sat down and asked a few general questions. I told him I'm struggling with anxiety on a fairly constant basis, peaks, some panic attacks mixed in. He asked about my life and I told him that I've been married for 25 years, and I'm a stay at home mom with three kids at home, my two daughters age 7 and 5 who I homeschool part-time and my 3 year old grandson who I watch while my older daughter works. That was enough info for him.
He went on and on about parenting and marriage. The doc gave me all kinds of advice about this and that, without even asking me if there were problems. He had most of it right, probably because all parents have the same general concerns and struggles, but he was reaching on other things. That's ok. I listened to him anyway.
Some of his advice was to cuss. Cuss a lot and say bad words. Let it out. And, read to my kids. Well and good, I will continue to read to my kids and I will not cuss. I still just want to be the same me that I've always been; I kinda like me that way. But, I nodded and said ok.
He wanted to hear more about the panic attacks and so I told him about the breast cancer diagnosis and the biopsy and MRI. I told him the 6mg of valium did nothing for me.
The doctor blew out a big sigh and diagnosed me with depression, anxiety and panic attacks. Oh. Depression? Must be a package deal. Whatever, that's fine. I just want to get through the anxiety. He prescribed Zoloft and Ativan. Great. Hook me up!
He said he will up my dosage in 30 days. I have to remember to call in or make another appointment I guess.
So, now I have these medications and I'm afraid to take them! I don't want to be a mom-zombie. And I still need my wits about me to drive safely. Feeling very anxious to take anxiety meds. Isn't that a kicker?
Friday, March 7, 2014
Scheduling Surgury - Is that a good day?
The doctor's surgeon's office just called. She first asked me if I was taking a cruise soon. No. Oh, that's someone else, never mind. Ok then...
After verifying my name and birthdate so as not to confuse me with someone who is going on a cruise soon, she asked me if I had any dates to avoid. For example: if I had a cruise planned in the near future. No, nothing that I have to work around. My calendar is clear.
Is April 18th a good day?
Hmm. Well, it's just as good as any day. It's not exactly a good day. There is no "good day" for a mastectomy. But, yes, that's fine. I apologized for that little rant. Whoops. Sorry. She said it was ok, so if April 18th works out for everyone (doctors and hospital and all of those people) then she'll schedule it for that day, otherwise she has a few other days shortly after that open for scheduling. She'll confirm it on Monday, for now it is tentative.
Ok. April 18th. Sure, that's a good day. A good day for a major surgery.
After verifying my name and birthdate so as not to confuse me with someone who is going on a cruise soon, she asked me if I had any dates to avoid. For example: if I had a cruise planned in the near future. No, nothing that I have to work around. My calendar is clear.
Is April 18th a good day?
Hmm. Well, it's just as good as any day. It's not exactly a good day. There is no "good day" for a mastectomy. But, yes, that's fine. I apologized for that little rant. Whoops. Sorry. She said it was ok, so if April 18th works out for everyone (doctors and hospital and all of those people) then she'll schedule it for that day, otherwise she has a few other days shortly after that open for scheduling. She'll confirm it on Monday, for now it is tentative.
Ok. April 18th. Sure, that's a good day. A good day for a major surgery.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
The MRI - Epic Fail
I went to my MRI appointment, and then I left. That pretty much sums it up.
Deep Sigh.
When I made the appointment for the MRI the lady on the phone said, "Are you claustrophobic?" And I said, "a wee bit, yes." I had an MRI of my ankle so I knew what the machine looked and sounded like and when she asked if I was claustrophobic, it dawned on me that I would be inside that machine, not just my foot like before.
Suddenly, I am super slow at catching on to things. For example: I am making an MRI appointment and don't realize that my entire body will be in the MRI machine. Duh.
I'm not really claustrophobic, I am uncomfortable with it, but not phobic. I can do it. But given the option for more comfort, sure, I'll say I'm claustrophobic if that means I can have this thing done in an easier way. Maybe they will leave the lights on or something. The receptionist said they will call in a prescription for some Valium. Awesome.
She also said I cannot wear any metal on my clothing. Ok. Cool, I get to wear clothing! I bought a sports bra (no clips i.e. no metal) and I wore a pair of drawstring shorts and cut the grommets off since they were metal. I didn't realize that I wear metal every day, but it's on everything.
I got my valium: 6 mg and only one dose. Really? That's it? One dose? I'm going to have all sorts of medical appointments and I get one stinking dose of valium? It took me eight phone calls to get it too! I had to call the MRI lady, the doctor's office, the MRI office again, the doctor's office again, repeat both, and the pharmacy too! For that one dose of valium, everyone said someone else had to prescribe it. It was insanity. But I got it. I figured it was going to be worth the hassle because the MRI was supposed to last two hours. Two hours! And I would have to lay perfectly still for that whole time. How is that even possible!
I took my 6mg of valium right before my appointment. I guess I could have driven myself to the appointment but they said not to drive if I take it, and if I drive there then I'd need a ride home and have to leave my car behind. That wouldn't work out. My friend, Tisha, taxied me around. Brit came to watch the kids. They were super happy to see her too. I gave Brit a fox scarf and she loved it! Looked fabulous on her!
I got to my appointment and waited a while before being called back. They sent me to a dressing room and told me to remove everything and don a gown. But, I have no metal. Doesn't matter. Ugh. I bought a sports bra and cut the grommets off my shorts for nothing!
I went into the MRI room and saw the gigantic machine and there was a friendly man in the room welcoming me. He started to tell me how it would work. I would lay on the table face down and he would start the iv... WHOA! WHAT? IV?! Stop right there! The trembling began. Uncontrollable, as usual.
What IV? I never knew about an iv. Why do I need one? He said it is for contrast dye. They'll inject the dye into the iv and it'll feel weird, maybe cold at first then hot all over and I'll have a funny taste in my mouth. It only has to be in for two hours while I'm in the machine. NO.
He said that's how it is done. I said why can't you do it without the iv? No dye. The guy said that's just how it's done. And then he said, "you signed a consent to do this". Did I? I don't remember ever seeing anything about having an IV during the MRI and if I signed a consent then it was unintentional and probably part of the other papers they had me sign. Also, signing a consent form doesn't mean I'm doing it. He went to get the papers to prove it to me. Like I care.
While he went to get my file, I tried to tell myself to be a grown up and just do it. It's an iv for Pete's Sake, not a big deal. People do this every day. I'm being irrational. I'm also shaking so bad that I cannot even stand up. My heart was pounding. Why isn't the valium working?
He came back. I did not sign the consent for the dye. He showed me. I took it and said, this form says dye, it doesn't say there is a needle or an iv involved. Even if I would have signed it, it is misleading. And, signed or not, I'm not doing it. He said, "what?" I said, "I'm done. We're done here. I'm not doing the MRI unless it can be done without the dye." He was stupified. Sorry I wasted your time. He suggested that I reschedule and next time I take valium before my appointment. I said, "I'm on valium right now. I took 6mg an hour ago. This is my calm." His jaw dropped. Then, I left.
I got dressed and walked to Starbucks and called my friend to come and get me. I totally didn't feel the calming effects of the valium. Nothing! My anxiety must have overpowered it.
But, I was proud of myself for just leaving and not trying to do something that is just ridiculously hard for me to do. On the other hand, I was disappointed in myself for not doing something that isn't a big deal and I need to do.
MRI fail.
Deep Sigh.
When I made the appointment for the MRI the lady on the phone said, "Are you claustrophobic?" And I said, "a wee bit, yes." I had an MRI of my ankle so I knew what the machine looked and sounded like and when she asked if I was claustrophobic, it dawned on me that I would be inside that machine, not just my foot like before.
Suddenly, I am super slow at catching on to things. For example: I am making an MRI appointment and don't realize that my entire body will be in the MRI machine. Duh.
I'm not really claustrophobic, I am uncomfortable with it, but not phobic. I can do it. But given the option for more comfort, sure, I'll say I'm claustrophobic if that means I can have this thing done in an easier way. Maybe they will leave the lights on or something. The receptionist said they will call in a prescription for some Valium. Awesome.
She also said I cannot wear any metal on my clothing. Ok. Cool, I get to wear clothing! I bought a sports bra (no clips i.e. no metal) and I wore a pair of drawstring shorts and cut the grommets off since they were metal. I didn't realize that I wear metal every day, but it's on everything.
I got my valium: 6 mg and only one dose. Really? That's it? One dose? I'm going to have all sorts of medical appointments and I get one stinking dose of valium? It took me eight phone calls to get it too! I had to call the MRI lady, the doctor's office, the MRI office again, the doctor's office again, repeat both, and the pharmacy too! For that one dose of valium, everyone said someone else had to prescribe it. It was insanity. But I got it. I figured it was going to be worth the hassle because the MRI was supposed to last two hours. Two hours! And I would have to lay perfectly still for that whole time. How is that even possible!
I took my 6mg of valium right before my appointment. I guess I could have driven myself to the appointment but they said not to drive if I take it, and if I drive there then I'd need a ride home and have to leave my car behind. That wouldn't work out. My friend, Tisha, taxied me around. Brit came to watch the kids. They were super happy to see her too. I gave Brit a fox scarf and she loved it! Looked fabulous on her!
I got to my appointment and waited a while before being called back. They sent me to a dressing room and told me to remove everything and don a gown. But, I have no metal. Doesn't matter. Ugh. I bought a sports bra and cut the grommets off my shorts for nothing!
I went into the MRI room and saw the gigantic machine and there was a friendly man in the room welcoming me. He started to tell me how it would work. I would lay on the table face down and he would start the iv... WHOA! WHAT? IV?! Stop right there! The trembling began. Uncontrollable, as usual.
What IV? I never knew about an iv. Why do I need one? He said it is for contrast dye. They'll inject the dye into the iv and it'll feel weird, maybe cold at first then hot all over and I'll have a funny taste in my mouth. It only has to be in for two hours while I'm in the machine. NO.
He said that's how it is done. I said why can't you do it without the iv? No dye. The guy said that's just how it's done. And then he said, "you signed a consent to do this". Did I? I don't remember ever seeing anything about having an IV during the MRI and if I signed a consent then it was unintentional and probably part of the other papers they had me sign. Also, signing a consent form doesn't mean I'm doing it. He went to get the papers to prove it to me. Like I care.
While he went to get my file, I tried to tell myself to be a grown up and just do it. It's an iv for Pete's Sake, not a big deal. People do this every day. I'm being irrational. I'm also shaking so bad that I cannot even stand up. My heart was pounding. Why isn't the valium working?
He came back. I did not sign the consent for the dye. He showed me. I took it and said, this form says dye, it doesn't say there is a needle or an iv involved. Even if I would have signed it, it is misleading. And, signed or not, I'm not doing it. He said, "what?" I said, "I'm done. We're done here. I'm not doing the MRI unless it can be done without the dye." He was stupified. Sorry I wasted your time. He suggested that I reschedule and next time I take valium before my appointment. I said, "I'm on valium right now. I took 6mg an hour ago. This is my calm." His jaw dropped. Then, I left.
I got dressed and walked to Starbucks and called my friend to come and get me. I totally didn't feel the calming effects of the valium. Nothing! My anxiety must have overpowered it.
But, I was proud of myself for just leaving and not trying to do something that is just ridiculously hard for me to do. On the other hand, I was disappointed in myself for not doing something that isn't a big deal and I need to do.
MRI fail.
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