Yesterday, I won’t lie, was hard. Some weak moments just sneak up on you, and surprise! You are back to feeling completely vulnerable again.
The day was filled with an undeniable nervous energy. It did not help that mine was practically the last appointment scheduled for the day. I’m pretty sure that the “hurry up and wait” philosophy that seems to be the standard of Army living has been adopted by the Oncology profession as well. But, we finally made it, 4pm. Being the last appointment of the day came with all the backlog that had been created for the last 8 hours of the business day. We got there, again, we waited. For two hours, I got to imagine what he was going to tell me. Turns out, I was in for a bit of a shock.
Having been biopsied only on the right side (with the egg sized mass that refuses to be ignored), we had an abundance of information to discuss about that cancer and its 3 major areas of hostile takeover. However, the cancer on my left side has kept its air of mystery, seeing as I didn’t even know it existed until a recent scan. The 4 areas on the left seems to be altogether separate from its counterpart. Who knew that two cancers could simultaneously take up living quarters in a part of your body?
For now the only thing I can say, definitively, is that I fall in the category of STAGE 3 breast cancer. So guess what I get to do alllll over again? The poking, the prodding, the examining. Add to that list the installation of a PORT (the fun little IV hookup that gets to move in to my chest and become my cancer’s super obnoxious roommate). That’s right. For now, we are skipping the surgery and headed straight for Chemo. All my new fun biopsies and screenings, as well as the PORT insertion should happen this week (pending the approval of my BFF, aka the insurance company). If all goes smoothly, we could be poised to start pumping chemo into my body as early as next week.
What I WANT to say to you is that I’m super pumped to get this fight started. And that’s not untrue, I can almost feel the adrenaline running through me and it’s all I’ve wanted for more than a month now. BUT there is also a part of me, a louder voice, screaming “Get this out of me! I wanted the double mastectomy first not chemo!” When something foreign starts palpably moving its way through your body, when you can chart it’s growth, all you want is to remove it. For me that means that you cut it out.
But for the less emotional and the better informed professional, we do a one two punch. First we are making sure they can determine the right kind of chemo to really give this thing the knockout, then do the surgery to get rid of it once and for all. As I have more time to process the logic and strength of this strategy, I’ll get to re-establish my game face. The determination is already creeping back into my veins. Give me a day or two, I’ll be ready for the KO.