7-9-14 It's "Deja Boob all over again!!"

OK, here’s what I know…

It is triple negative again. (www.tnbcfoundation.org/  in case you want to do a little research!)

Mastectomy was a must. I have no choice in the matter. Bilateral is my choice.  Here's how I see it--once you've had a partial mastectomy (a/k/a lumpectomy) if it returns, you MUST go with the mastectomy. No option on that. The only choices are one side, both sides, one side with reconstruction, both sides with reconstruction. He will try to get some lymph nodes on the left side (where the cancer is) but it may be too difficult due to past scar tissue and the effects of having 33 radiation treatments six years ago. (Yes, it's been six years. Wouldn't you have thought I'd be in the clear?)

I had a breast MRI and PET scan today. Assuming both of those are good--no cancer metastasizing anywhere else and no super large tumor anywhere--surgery for a bilateral mastectomy (abbreviation for that is BMX--at least that's kind of cool, right?) on Monday, July 14. IN FIVE DAYS!!! Yikes!!  If the cancer is somewhere else in my body or the tumor is large we switch things up and do chemotherapy first, followed by surgery. 

Chemo is just about for sure after surgery. My doctor likes to wait 4-6 weeks post surgery before she starts chemo.  I WILL lose my hair again. It is not quite as terrible as the first bout of chemo was due to different drugs. It will take 13-18 weeks, depending on exactly which drugs she goes with. That puts us near the end of the year, I guess—best case scenario.

The cutting edge place for triple negative breast cancer is probably Sloan-Kettering in Manhattan. The time for me to go there for a 2^nd opinion would be after surgery, before chemo. She doesn’t think I’ll qualify for any studies because this is a recurrence, not first occurrence. If he recommends traditional drugs, it can be administered here. If he wants something experimental, I would have to treat there.

Want to hear the whole story??? If I've already told you, you can skip the next few paragraphs…

Six years ago they used an ultrasound-guided needle biopsy to diagnose me. That was awkward and undignified, but not too unpleasant of a procedure. So, late June I went in for a routine mammogram. (And let me say right here, I am pretty darned good at doing self-exams!) Anyhow, when the technician comes in and says, "The radiologist would like a few more picture of one area…" I went, "Uh oh." We did those. Next she came in and said, "The doctor will speak with you." That's the ol' kiss of death. I knew it was bad. She said she had seen something and needed a stereotactic biopsy to see what it was. They could not do the ultrasound-guided one because it involved calcium deposits and ultrasounds do not pick those up well.

An hour later I was in for my biopsy. They have you lay on a table with strategically placed holes. Then they crank you up and work below you like you're a car having its oil changed! And, to add insult to injury, she said, "You're so small…I took the mattress off the table." Sigh. 

So, I am laying on this metal table that is covered in a sheet. Down below they have a mini-mammogram machine which they say they are going to use "gentle compression" with. Right. It's a mammogram machine. Girls, you know what it felt like!!!

Anyhow, they would position me and then all three would run behind the wall and do a mammogram picture. Then they'd come back and position me a little bit better and run back again. Finally I was in place.

The doctor came in and numbed me and then did the procedure. It really was not too bad of a procedure. I did not feel any pain. Just the indignity of it all, being in a vice grip while hanging through the table. 

I got a call last Wednesday (one week ago today) saying it was cancer. I was not surprised. I felt that the radiologist really knew, but had no proof. Then we swing into disaster mode. 

I've got my pre-op physical scheduled. I've got a haircut scheduled (going super short to lessen the change when my hair falls out). I am going to schedule a massage for this week. (Thank you, Loy!!)

People ask, "How are you doing?" I don't know what to say…I still feel just fine. I tell jokes and sing. But I also cry. I think when I am sad and cry it is because I'm thinking of all that I will miss if things turn out the way we dare not even mention. 

One funny thing, though…Loy and I were doing our post-supper devotional the night I got diagnosed. The Bible verse God chose for us to read that particular night was, "The mountains shall depart and the hills be removed, but My kindness shall not depart from you…"  --Isaiah 54:10.    I've never been known to have "mountains"!! But they're going to depart and those pesky hills be removed!! :)   I laugh at that, but remember that God's kindness is here. Whether this is what I think I needed or not, God is doing what is best for me. I don't like it, but I can't understand it right now. 

I hope I remember that at all times through this next few icky months.

I'll post this on Facebook, but if you don't "do" Facebook, you'll have to subscribe to my blog. It's too hard to email it all out each time. (And I don't want to do a CaringBridge site…I like doing my blog instead.)

Thank you for praying for me when I come to mind. And, just so you know, every encouraging email or text I get, every Bible verse you print out for me, every note I get is saved and read and re-read. 

This is on St. Kitt's Island. Right now cancer is the monkey on my back!!