Beth got the results back from the PET scan today. I have no idea what that test is. All I know is that it came back with good results. I think the test was to see if her cancer had spread to any other part of her body. There is some suspicion about other breast - the test showed something there, but they couldn't determine what it is. Doesn't matter -both those babies are coming off.
Next appointment: Plastic Surgeon on Thursday to discuss reconstruction. Good times.
Good night.
Alan
Friday, August 29, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Freak Out
This is going to sound really strange, but when the doctor first told me that I had cancer, I really didn't have much of a reaction. I even hung up the phone and then finished the days reading of Beauty and the Beast with Ella before I called Alan. It's not like I didn't cry. I did. I cried when I told Alan, and I cried again when he got home. I cried another time that day thinking about how I am totally burdening my children. At first I thought that it just hadn't sunk in yet and that was why the lack of emotion. So I thought 'well, I'm pretty calm today, but that's just because we don't really have any information yet. Tomorrow (friday), when we meet with the doctor and he tells us exactly what this is and what we will have to do, then I'll probably lose it'. Nope. Nothing. Just peace, and a very matter-of-fact, let's-get-it-done, checklist sort of thinking. All in all I think we've been handling everything pretty well. So when they phoned today to give me the results of Monday's breast MRI (funny story... I should dedicate a post just for that procedure. Hillarious.) and said that they would consequently like to schedule an ultrasound I was a little confused. I asked why, when they had already done two and we're already doing the surgery, what could they have possibly found that would matter? Of course the poor receptionist had no idea. I asked if the ultrasound was for the left or right breast. She said it was for the right. This really shouldn't have been a big deal. I had already decided on the double mastectomy (anybody that knows me well, knows that I hate my boobs). Logically this result doesn't change anything (and really who knows if there is anything there anyway? They just want to look at the right side.). But after mulling it over all day long, I crawled into bed tonight and completely freaked out. Poor Alan. I bawled and bawled. I tried to explain but it just doesn't make all that much sense. Even to me and they are my feelings. I feel like I don't have control over the situation anymore. I found the lump the first time. It was by my doing that it was being checked out. As a result of my actions this diagnosis was made. See how I have everything under control? Maybe this is lesson #1 in a huge long line of lessons...
I have no control. Only God is in control. I was blessed with peace in the beginning, so why should I not feel the same peace now? It's not like this is a suprise to Him, right? As I am writing this, I keep thinking of 2nd Nephi chapter 4.
O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever.
I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that
putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his
trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.
I started this post because I couldn't sleep after my big freak. I didn't quite know where it was going to take me. Luckily, I type terribly slow and have calmed down quite a bit. In any case I am glad that it has taken me here. Now I can sleep. Goodnight.
I have no control. Only God is in control. I was blessed with peace in the beginning, so why should I not feel the same peace now? It's not like this is a suprise to Him, right? As I am writing this, I keep thinking of 2nd Nephi chapter 4.
O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever.
I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that
putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his
trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.
I started this post because I couldn't sleep after my big freak. I didn't quite know where it was going to take me. Luckily, I type terribly slow and have calmed down quite a bit. In any case I am glad that it has taken me here. Now I can sleep. Goodnight.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Unexpected
As Alan puts it, "I gots the cancer".
I found a lump in my left breast a few weeks ago and went to the doctor to have it checked out. She said she really didn't think it was a big deal (and neither did I) but they don't like to take any chances. She sent me to a clinic to get a mammogram, ultrasound, and a biopsy. When my eyeballs bugged out of my head at the word 'biopsy' she said "Oh no no no no. Don't you worry. This needle is so small. It's like what diabetics use for their insulin. It's so tiny, it's like a hair." Well, that was a huge relief. I could handle that. So off I go to the clinic. First, the mammogram. For those of you who may not have had the pleasure, let me enlighten you. Naked from the waist up. A machine that opens it's mouth wide enough for your nurse to position your boobs on it's shelf in a very specific sort of way. When she is pleased enough with her work she offers you up as a sacrifice. The jaw begins to lower on you. Lower. Lower. Lower. And just before the pressure is so great that you're sure it's going squeeze them off altogether, the beast stops and the sugary sweet voice of the nurse says, "Don't breath, don't move." like she's singing a song. She snaps the picture and then it starts all over again. She only took two the first time and then left to show them to the doctor. He was obviously not pleased because she came back to do more. I'm not sure if they thought I had a background in circus work but she put me into positions that only acrobats and contortionists are qualified to perform. Next came the ultrasound. Now at least it didn't hurt. However, there is something rather humiliating about having a male doctor, well in his 60's, hose your boobs down with gel and rub a camera on them. I didn't focus on that for long as I quickly became aware that he was no longer looking at the one lump, but four, all in different places on the left breast. After de-gooping myself, he told me that he really didn't think it was anything serious. He thought because of my age (32) and the fact that there were four masses, it was probably fibroadenoma (doctor speak for benign tumors in the breasts), although with the new findings he thought it would be better for a breast surgeon to do the biopsy. Great. Another appointment. A week later I'm in the surgeons office. He also starts off with a boob ultrasound, only this time it is just slightly more embarrassing because he is 30 something. Anyway, he said he is going to biopsy two of the lumps. This is where I spare the squeamish. Let me just say that unless Monstro the Whale is the diabetic, I can't see the insulin needle being a spring loaded gun with and 8 inch hollow metal pipe attached. Seriously. The biopsy was a week ago tomorrow and I am still black and blue. I think it's my fault though. I think I just should have asked more questions. Like when she said "like what diabetics use", I should have asked "like human diabetics or diabetics from the planet Gigantor?" Oh well, lesson learned. This all happened on Tuesday and on Thursday the surgeon called me with the results.
Although this has come as an incredible shock to Alan and I, we can't help but feeling that this is all in God's plan for us and this is going to be a wonderful blessing for our family. Truly. We have been blessed with such unwavering peace from the very beginning that it would be impossible to feel otherwise. As a sweet friend recently reminded me, we need to view our trials as gifts and an opportunity to grow. We are looking forward to strengthening our family, ourselves, and our testimonies of Jesus Christ throughout this experience. We are so blessed.
I found a lump in my left breast a few weeks ago and went to the doctor to have it checked out. She said she really didn't think it was a big deal (and neither did I) but they don't like to take any chances. She sent me to a clinic to get a mammogram, ultrasound, and a biopsy. When my eyeballs bugged out of my head at the word 'biopsy' she said "Oh no no no no. Don't you worry. This needle is so small. It's like what diabetics use for their insulin. It's so tiny, it's like a hair." Well, that was a huge relief. I could handle that. So off I go to the clinic. First, the mammogram. For those of you who may not have had the pleasure, let me enlighten you. Naked from the waist up. A machine that opens it's mouth wide enough for your nurse to position your boobs on it's shelf in a very specific sort of way. When she is pleased enough with her work she offers you up as a sacrifice. The jaw begins to lower on you. Lower. Lower. Lower. And just before the pressure is so great that you're sure it's going squeeze them off altogether, the beast stops and the sugary sweet voice of the nurse says, "Don't breath, don't move." like she's singing a song. She snaps the picture and then it starts all over again. She only took two the first time and then left to show them to the doctor. He was obviously not pleased because she came back to do more. I'm not sure if they thought I had a background in circus work but she put me into positions that only acrobats and contortionists are qualified to perform. Next came the ultrasound. Now at least it didn't hurt. However, there is something rather humiliating about having a male doctor, well in his 60's, hose your boobs down with gel and rub a camera on them. I didn't focus on that for long as I quickly became aware that he was no longer looking at the one lump, but four, all in different places on the left breast. After de-gooping myself, he told me that he really didn't think it was anything serious. He thought because of my age (32) and the fact that there were four masses, it was probably fibroadenoma (doctor speak for benign tumors in the breasts), although with the new findings he thought it would be better for a breast surgeon to do the biopsy. Great. Another appointment. A week later I'm in the surgeons office. He also starts off with a boob ultrasound, only this time it is just slightly more embarrassing because he is 30 something. Anyway, he said he is going to biopsy two of the lumps. This is where I spare the squeamish. Let me just say that unless Monstro the Whale is the diabetic, I can't see the insulin needle being a spring loaded gun with and 8 inch hollow metal pipe attached. Seriously. The biopsy was a week ago tomorrow and I am still black and blue. I think it's my fault though. I think I just should have asked more questions. Like when she said "like what diabetics use", I should have asked "like human diabetics or diabetics from the planet Gigantor?" Oh well, lesson learned. This all happened on Tuesday and on Thursday the surgeon called me with the results.
Although this has come as an incredible shock to Alan and I, we can't help but feeling that this is all in God's plan for us and this is going to be a wonderful blessing for our family. Truly. We have been blessed with such unwavering peace from the very beginning that it would be impossible to feel otherwise. As a sweet friend recently reminded me, we need to view our trials as gifts and an opportunity to grow. We are looking forward to strengthening our family, ourselves, and our testimonies of Jesus Christ throughout this experience. We are so blessed.
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