I stopped posting here awhile back because Blogger wouldn't let me add any more pictures. They wanted some sort of payment, which I'm not against but could see it turning into a slippery slope. I then went on a hunt for a better format and am still looking, not too hard...
I've decided to resurrect this blog to chronicle my new adventure, Breast Cancer.
I've been followed for 30 years. No, not always on time but I found a lump at age 20. Turns out that it was just a cyst and went away on its own. I get a lot of cysts. This is a slight risk factor. I also have dense breasts with lots of fiber. Risk factor? never looked into it. Family? There was a tragic death of my father's first cousin in the 1970's. I knew her parents but not her. Later, they decided that only "direct" relatives; sister, mother, etc. "counted" but I had about 20 years of mammograms by that time. It was time to get them done anyway.
To be honest, I never really dwelled on this subject. I just got tested. I waltzed out of the office happy and didn't give it much thought. I didn't research my "risk" factors. I would get or not get, whatever but would make sure I'd get tested. I figured, I couldn't change anything. All I could do was make sure I was caught early.
We knew we wanted more kids after Ronnie so when I stopped breastfeeding, I made an apt. at the same hospital where he was born. That's how I met "my" radiologist. This is how I posted it on Facebook;
The first time I met my radiologist, I was standing in his hallway, admiring a picture of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. He walked in behind me and I said "I've always wanted to see Angkor Wat..." "At least you *know* what it is!" he quipped. I didn't notice but there wasn't any label on it.
I always say that it's not so bad being checked for Breast Cancer for most of my life. My risk factors were minimal, and debatable, but I just had the checks anyway. He simply declared that I had dense tissue and would need both a mammogram and ultrasound every time. So I did.
Always having the same radiologist, I would admire how his daughters were growing up in the photos in the office. Neither wanted to go into medicine! I heard about the brother who lives in Arizonia. We'd joke about how the French said his name... Anyway, going to get my mammograms was just a chance to say "hi". It made doing something unpleasant, that much easier.
But it came in handy when I was about to give birth to Talia. The nurses wanted to send me to Hautepierre, a large public hospital where they have a neo-natal unit. I kept insisting that Talia was arriving early but within their guidelines of 36 weeks, and there was nothing wrong with her. Our compromise? See the radiologist. Guess who was on duty? I was in tears when I arrived, babbling about now wanting to go to Hautepierre. "Let's take a look at this baby..." he said comfortingly. "She weighs three kilos!" he declared (7lbs?) "There is NO medical reason to send you away. I'm going to recommend that you stay right here and have this baby."
And I did. Talia was born at the same private Jewish hospital where her brother, father and eventual sister was.
So I would also try to get him whenever an X-ray had to be taken (not always possible though). I was always sent home with a clean bill of health and finally, two weeks ago, I went to see him in the new center where mammograms are all done now. That's what we were talking about when he stopped and looked at something on the screen. He then pulled up an image of one of my many cysts and put it on the other side of the screen. "See, they're not the same. This one is clear and you can see something inside of the other" (barely!) "Also" he added "irregular edges..." I knew that wasn't good.
He pulled up my ultrasound in the computer from two years ago and it wasn't there. He also showed me that the mammogram just done was clear. Nothing could be detected. This blob is about 10mm big and can't be felt either.
So he did the Best Biopsy Ever on me the next week on it. I really didn't feel a thing. He put a rush on it, so that I would have the results the next day. He was also the one to give me the bad news, and reassuringly did my ultrasound and X-ray to let me know that there is no indication of metastasis. He also heartily recommended the surgeon at that hospital to do the surgery.
I think I just needed one last reassurance. The secretary gave me the envelope with the X-ray. Please confirm with him that it's alright. He ran out into the hallway. Everything's fine, he assured me. Gave me a big smile and sent me on my way to my next Big Adventure; becoming a survivor!
I estimate this has been caught about two years before it would have showed up on a mammogram.
Merci Dr. N!!
I kind of wrote it this way for a number of reasons. First, it's long on purpose. Only those who know me will read it all. Second, it's my message that I'm getting good care here. I also wanted to mention that it really small and early.
I left off the part that he also figured out that I was progesterone deficient. We were just talking, during an exam and he said brightly "You have the classic case of progesterone deficiency. Go back to your gynecologist and ask him for some supplements. That's all it'll take..." Thank you Dr. G (gynecologist at the time) for NOT picking this up. Darned radiologist did...
I did take the pill for awhile. I took it for about a year in England, which is like 20 years ago now. I took the progesterone and then changed gynecologists (don't ask why!) and she put me on the pill-Yaz. She did switch me when the controversy came up over it. Will not look into that now!
I was really happy when she gave me the final lab results from the biopsy. I'm HER2 negative (makes treatment a little more complex so glad it's not there) and estrogen and progesterone positive, which means I can be treated with hormone suppressants. Another weapon in my armery. She told me 15%, and anything under 20 is good. I think that's the reproduction rate but am not sure. Her quote was "If you have to have cancer, have it like this". I am still a candidate for skipping chemo. I'll do radiation but if the lymph nodes and margins around the tumor are clear, I go straight to radiation. It'll also be a "clean up" radiation, just to zap any cancer cells that escaped.
In other words, the cancer isn't anything exotic or difficult to treat. Even with a tiny tumor without any indication of it having spread, if it's a scary enough version, they do chemo. I was now off the hook with this issue.
I see the surgeon on Monday. I'm super nervous because I've never had surgery before, never been "put under". Guess there always has to be a first time and better it's under controlled circumstances (as opposed to an emergency, which if often the case). As surgery goes, this is pretty straightforward. It's not very deep and he only need to remove a few lymph nodes, the tumor and a bit of material around it.
I was so nervous about the biopsy. The 10 day wait didn't help but now I'm glad I did it with him an didn't get it done elsewhere. I was on the verge of tears when I arrived. A friend had offered to come with me but she couldn't last minute. Daniel can't drive and I didn't want to leave the kids alone at home. The girls were sending me photos of their stuffed animals to cheer me up, while I waited.
I absolutely didn't feel a thing. The anesthetic kind of burned a tiny bit and then, nothing. I was shocked when he was done. I told him later that I had heard some horror stories and I appreciated what a great job he did. He got all serious. "This is an easy procedure to mess up. Every step has to be respected. If you don't wait long enough, or don't go far enough, it can be very unpleasant".
Both he and Dr. K, the gynecologist, are very good about explaining things.
Dr. N. put a rush on it and had me come in the next day. I told the desk and waited my turn. He came in the waiting room and I stood up. "You're here. Did you tell the desk?" yes, "Don't worry, just come with me" and I followed him down the hall, with Daniel limping on his crutches behind me.
I could tell he wasn't happy. He just said that the results weren't good. Then he started to list all this stuff and I started to panic. Really, when you tell someone they have cancer, they're not going to hear the next 10 minutes of babble. He was trying to be reassuring but not doing a good job of it, pointing out the myriad of treatments available. He even mentioned Angela Jolie. I didn't need to hear that name! Daniel grabbed my leg and put his hand over his eyes and started crying. I was just in shock and could hardly speak.
Basically, you had an office with three people from three different continents (although all of us are now French) with a doctor telling a patient that they have cancer. It's going to be awkward, even without the cultural differences.
The had me come in the next day for a chest X-ray and an ultrasound of the abdomen. This is to check if there is any sign of metathesis, which in itself was kind of scary. He could see I was in a state and was very sweet with me, not all cold and scary like the day before.
The surgeon is my gynecologist when I was pregnant with Ronnie. I changed because he talked me out of an amnio and that got me riled up. I heard later that he's orthodox and against prenatal testing in general. I felt that I was fighting his principals, which isn't good. He's nice but I didn't feel confident that he would have gotten an exception to the fathers-present-for a C-section. The hospital officially won't allow it but he assured me that he could get an exception for Daniel. I wasn't sure. I turned out to be a very distant candidate for a C-section so it all was a non-issue.
I feel more comfortable having this in a familiar hospital, with doctors that I know, not far from where I used to live and where my kids still go to school. I just feel better about it all.
I've decided to resurrect this blog to chronicle my new adventure, Breast Cancer.
I've been followed for 30 years. No, not always on time but I found a lump at age 20. Turns out that it was just a cyst and went away on its own. I get a lot of cysts. This is a slight risk factor. I also have dense breasts with lots of fiber. Risk factor? never looked into it. Family? There was a tragic death of my father's first cousin in the 1970's. I knew her parents but not her. Later, they decided that only "direct" relatives; sister, mother, etc. "counted" but I had about 20 years of mammograms by that time. It was time to get them done anyway.
To be honest, I never really dwelled on this subject. I just got tested. I waltzed out of the office happy and didn't give it much thought. I didn't research my "risk" factors. I would get or not get, whatever but would make sure I'd get tested. I figured, I couldn't change anything. All I could do was make sure I was caught early.
We knew we wanted more kids after Ronnie so when I stopped breastfeeding, I made an apt. at the same hospital where he was born. That's how I met "my" radiologist. This is how I posted it on Facebook;
The first time I met my radiologist, I was standing in his hallway, admiring a picture of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. He walked in behind me and I said "I've always wanted to see Angkor Wat..." "At least you *know* what it is!" he quipped. I didn't notice but there wasn't any label on it.
I always say that it's not so bad being checked for Breast Cancer for most of my life. My risk factors were minimal, and debatable, but I just had the checks anyway. He simply declared that I had dense tissue and would need both a mammogram and ultrasound every time. So I did.
Always having the same radiologist, I would admire how his daughters were growing up in the photos in the office. Neither wanted to go into medicine! I heard about the brother who lives in Arizonia. We'd joke about how the French said his name... Anyway, going to get my mammograms was just a chance to say "hi". It made doing something unpleasant, that much easier.
But it came in handy when I was about to give birth to Talia. The nurses wanted to send me to Hautepierre, a large public hospital where they have a neo-natal unit. I kept insisting that Talia was arriving early but within their guidelines of 36 weeks, and there was nothing wrong with her. Our compromise? See the radiologist. Guess who was on duty? I was in tears when I arrived, babbling about now wanting to go to Hautepierre. "Let's take a look at this baby..." he said comfortingly. "She weighs three kilos!" he declared (7lbs?) "There is NO medical reason to send you away. I'm going to recommend that you stay right here and have this baby."
And I did. Talia was born at the same private Jewish hospital where her brother, father and eventual sister was.
So I would also try to get him whenever an X-ray had to be taken (not always possible though). I was always sent home with a clean bill of health and finally, two weeks ago, I went to see him in the new center where mammograms are all done now. That's what we were talking about when he stopped and looked at something on the screen. He then pulled up an image of one of my many cysts and put it on the other side of the screen. "See, they're not the same. This one is clear and you can see something inside of the other" (barely!) "Also" he added "irregular edges..." I knew that wasn't good.
He pulled up my ultrasound in the computer from two years ago and it wasn't there. He also showed me that the mammogram just done was clear. Nothing could be detected. This blob is about 10mm big and can't be felt either.
So he did the Best Biopsy Ever on me the next week on it. I really didn't feel a thing. He put a rush on it, so that I would have the results the next day. He was also the one to give me the bad news, and reassuringly did my ultrasound and X-ray to let me know that there is no indication of metastasis. He also heartily recommended the surgeon at that hospital to do the surgery.
I think I just needed one last reassurance. The secretary gave me the envelope with the X-ray. Please confirm with him that it's alright. He ran out into the hallway. Everything's fine, he assured me. Gave me a big smile and sent me on my way to my next Big Adventure; becoming a survivor!
I estimate this has been caught about two years before it would have showed up on a mammogram.
Merci Dr. N!!
I kind of wrote it this way for a number of reasons. First, it's long on purpose. Only those who know me will read it all. Second, it's my message that I'm getting good care here. I also wanted to mention that it really small and early.
I left off the part that he also figured out that I was progesterone deficient. We were just talking, during an exam and he said brightly "You have the classic case of progesterone deficiency. Go back to your gynecologist and ask him for some supplements. That's all it'll take..." Thank you Dr. G (gynecologist at the time) for NOT picking this up. Darned radiologist did...
I did take the pill for awhile. I took it for about a year in England, which is like 20 years ago now. I took the progesterone and then changed gynecologists (don't ask why!) and she put me on the pill-Yaz. She did switch me when the controversy came up over it. Will not look into that now!
I was really happy when she gave me the final lab results from the biopsy. I'm HER2 negative (makes treatment a little more complex so glad it's not there) and estrogen and progesterone positive, which means I can be treated with hormone suppressants. Another weapon in my armery. She told me 15%, and anything under 20 is good. I think that's the reproduction rate but am not sure. Her quote was "If you have to have cancer, have it like this". I am still a candidate for skipping chemo. I'll do radiation but if the lymph nodes and margins around the tumor are clear, I go straight to radiation. It'll also be a "clean up" radiation, just to zap any cancer cells that escaped.
In other words, the cancer isn't anything exotic or difficult to treat. Even with a tiny tumor without any indication of it having spread, if it's a scary enough version, they do chemo. I was now off the hook with this issue.
I see the surgeon on Monday. I'm super nervous because I've never had surgery before, never been "put under". Guess there always has to be a first time and better it's under controlled circumstances (as opposed to an emergency, which if often the case). As surgery goes, this is pretty straightforward. It's not very deep and he only need to remove a few lymph nodes, the tumor and a bit of material around it.
I was so nervous about the biopsy. The 10 day wait didn't help but now I'm glad I did it with him an didn't get it done elsewhere. I was on the verge of tears when I arrived. A friend had offered to come with me but she couldn't last minute. Daniel can't drive and I didn't want to leave the kids alone at home. The girls were sending me photos of their stuffed animals to cheer me up, while I waited.
I absolutely didn't feel a thing. The anesthetic kind of burned a tiny bit and then, nothing. I was shocked when he was done. I told him later that I had heard some horror stories and I appreciated what a great job he did. He got all serious. "This is an easy procedure to mess up. Every step has to be respected. If you don't wait long enough, or don't go far enough, it can be very unpleasant".
Both he and Dr. K, the gynecologist, are very good about explaining things.
Dr. N. put a rush on it and had me come in the next day. I told the desk and waited my turn. He came in the waiting room and I stood up. "You're here. Did you tell the desk?" yes, "Don't worry, just come with me" and I followed him down the hall, with Daniel limping on his crutches behind me.
I could tell he wasn't happy. He just said that the results weren't good. Then he started to list all this stuff and I started to panic. Really, when you tell someone they have cancer, they're not going to hear the next 10 minutes of babble. He was trying to be reassuring but not doing a good job of it, pointing out the myriad of treatments available. He even mentioned Angela Jolie. I didn't need to hear that name! Daniel grabbed my leg and put his hand over his eyes and started crying. I was just in shock and could hardly speak.
Basically, you had an office with three people from three different continents (although all of us are now French) with a doctor telling a patient that they have cancer. It's going to be awkward, even without the cultural differences.
The had me come in the next day for a chest X-ray and an ultrasound of the abdomen. This is to check if there is any sign of metathesis, which in itself was kind of scary. He could see I was in a state and was very sweet with me, not all cold and scary like the day before.
The surgeon is my gynecologist when I was pregnant with Ronnie. I changed because he talked me out of an amnio and that got me riled up. I heard later that he's orthodox and against prenatal testing in general. I felt that I was fighting his principals, which isn't good. He's nice but I didn't feel confident that he would have gotten an exception to the fathers-present-for a C-section. The hospital officially won't allow it but he assured me that he could get an exception for Daniel. I wasn't sure. I turned out to be a very distant candidate for a C-section so it all was a non-issue.
I feel more comfortable having this in a familiar hospital, with doctors that I know, not far from where I used to live and where my kids still go to school. I just feel better about it all.
1 comment:
so sorry you are going through all of this but it sounds like you are in good hands!
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