I did, May 17th. We'd just had our neighborhood parade and a great bbq afterward. I was taking a bath later that night, sitting up, and I was sooooo happy I was literally splashing and singing something like "Rubber Ducky" when I went to move soap suds from my neck down to my armpit and on the way my hand went: **bump bump** -- over some crazy huge lump. I yelled out loud to the shampoo bottle, "Wait...seriously... WTF is THAT ???" The shampoo bottle blinked and said, "Wow. I really don't know..."
I calmed myself down and went over what Dr. Woo had told me the year before when I sheepishly admitted for the umpteenth annual exam (same conversation every year), "No, I have NOT been doing self-exams, what is it that I'm looking for again?" And then he always says, "Something the size of a pea, and hard." This wasn't like that. It just felt like a cyst. Or something swollen. I wasn't worried. Sort of.
-What size is it? What does it feel like? Where is it? Can I touch it? Does it hurt?
I don't have an exact size of it yet. I can't remember if that happens when I meet the surgeon, or when I get an MRI. And I'm not sure if they measure the whole thing or just the cancerous part. To me the mass feels about the size of a large apricot pit. It feels like that too, but if you made it slightly gummi-like. But it changes. It gets really big, then sometimes it seems small, sometimes it feels hard other times it feels swollen.
It's on the top part of my right breast, closer to my neck or heart than my armpit, which apparently is good. The closer to the arm, the more chance of lymph node problems I think. See photo.
Right here.
And I'm holding onto my hat so it doesn't blow away.
Yes, please ask me to feel it. I want to educate people what it may feel like. Nope, it doesn't hurt. And I feel fantastic. Still running 6-8 mile runs a few times a week and in great spirits. But that's the hard part. I feel SO healthy and yet I've got this stupid bump hanging on me like a monkey on my back. Except he's on my boob.
-What was the diagnosis?
So far they are calling it an infiltrating ductal carcenoma. Welcome to my non-medical world where I'm on an insane learning curve of lingo and acronyms and so much information coming at me from so many different people my head is going to pop off.
Anyhoo, from what I understand --and could be completely wrong-- it sounds like a bunch of cells blob together and form a neat little mass. And this state is called 'in situ'? I think I have this somewhat right. My cancer is in milk ducts and it's gone from in situ to starting to hang out a little bit on the inside of these tubes and on the outside. Hence the 'infiltrating' and the 'ductal'. Anyhow, this is what they've determined so far from just the initial mammogram and the ultrasounds and all the stuff that happens with the biopsy. So who knows, this could change.
-So, wait, go back to the bathtub again
Oh yeah. So I calmed down thinking there weren't any hard peas to be found and as always I very easily talked myself out of any kind of worry that anything was wrong (this is how I ended up with a staff infection in the past) but some reasonable tiny part of the back of my brain was a bit shaken and got me over to the phone to leave a message for Dr. Woo at 11:30pm to please try and fit me in the next day, Monday May 18th. I had bad sleep and weird dreams. Awoke to his office at the Swedish Clinic calling me at 7:15am saying they had time at 10. Good.
Well, Woo thought there was definitely some cyst-like thing there and I shouldn't get worried because he couldn't feel anything hard...but... "we need to get this looked at and confirmed. You know, just to make sure." (Wait. That step wasn't supposed to happen. He signed me up for a mammogram. Um, ok. I was supposed to be dismissed like the last time I came to him with a mystery lump four years ago and he said it was nothing and to go home.) Oh, and they only do Fridays at the Ballard Swedish Hospital and this coming one was booked. I have to wait two weeks. Argh!
Friday May 29th, I have an 8:30am mammogram appointment, so excited to get this over with and have a day off. It's hot, I want to go swimming!
I'll speed this up: paperwork, paperwork, gown, leave pants and shoes on, go by machine, get squished, mushed, pinched, vice-griped, don't move, and if we see something not quite right we'll do an ultrasound. Go in little cold room, wait...wait...wait... Uh, Jenny, we'd like to do an ultrasound. Lie down, cold chair, cold gel, lots of talk about on the screen, I'd like a picture of that... and that... and that... ok, go change and meet the doctor in the waiting area. Well, we definitely found something but the only way we'll know if it's cancerous or not is to get a biopsy. It's Friday, is there anyway you can do this as soon as possible, like Monday or Tuesday? (Me: Ummmmmmmmm, what's happening? Where's the part where we all laugh that it's just a cyst and we did all this silly testing for nothing. Let's go home and see you after 40 when you are supposed to start having mammograms. Ho ho ho ho ha! Oh and wait -- my parents are coming Monday... how is this all going to work??)
In the meantime the doctor runs away. Nurse is talking to me about stuff I cannot even remember. Doctor comes back, sits me down and starts saying that if I can get up to First Hill Swedish Hospital across town and sit it the waiting room for a couple of hours, she spoke to her colleage up there whom she loves, trusts and is the best, she'll try to fit me in for a biopsy today. The results can take up to four business days so she'd rather have me get it in before the weekend. Oh yeah, and you CANNOT go swimming. (First of many notes to self right then and there: this process is really annoying and inconvenient.)
I am driving up there and I'm like "WHAT is going on here? This is crazy over-reacting!" This is getting long so I will leave out most of the details of some amazing events during this same day like when two couples in two pick up trucks drove up and asked me if I wanted the abandoned dryer in my backyard... and let's just say that by the end of this interaction the women said they were Prayer Warriors, honked their partners to stop driving away and the four of them deliver a pentacostal-like prayer in the alley for me ending in hugs and tears all around. They said the dryer was going to keep me from having bad cancer and drove away. My Dryer Angel. And then after my biopsy I met Brenda, this colorfully patterned and bedecked older black woman (man? transgender? I really could not precisely tell you) with a giant hat, silver teeth and a wheeled-walker, she (?) and I had a fantastic 15-minute talk in about a 30-yard stop-n-stroll together ending with her placing her giant warm hand on my shoulder and delivering a long, loud prayer of hope and love for me in front of First Hill Swedish Hospital's parking garage.
At this point I knew I might possibly be screwed. I hadn't even gotten back the results of the biopsy and beautiful strangers were already praying for me.
The biopsy results did not take four business days. I had it done late Friday afternoon and they called me Monday June 1 with the news at 3pm. It was so soon I wasn't ready for it. And at that very moment my parents were somewhere in the sky on a plane flying out, a trip they randomly planned a couple of months before. Hi Mom and Dad! Guess what's new?! Oy. But perfect of course. They were here, such great support and my mom could go to a couple of long appointments with me and get the big low-down which I am so, so, SO thankful for. I can't imagine relaying that all by phone... with a 3-hour time difference. And no facial expressions.
-Mammograms, ultrasounds, biopsies -- do you have insurance?!
YES thank goodness. I have been paying through the nose for a plan that was canceled a couple of years ago. They weren't making $ on it so they gave it the boot to newcomers. Instead they have been punishing me with a premium of $327/month. OUCH. I meant to look into cheaper plans because why am I paying for this when I am so ridiculously healthy? And really, I was in perfect health (I thought) before ol' lumpty dumpty showed up. Please please please, have someone who might understand look over your insurance and see what is actually covered. It looks like even with this great insurance I will still have to pay $10-15k out of pocket. But it sure beats $100,000 to $200,000... **whew**
-So what happens next?
In the past two weeks I've been tested, poked, prodded, blood work, peed in a bottle for 24-hours, pelvic exams, informational appointments. And I didn't know how hormonally tied breast cancer is. You need to get this test done on the 23rd day of your cycle, MRI on days 5-7, pee in the bottle day whatever...
This is why I feel like this lump is just a big annoyance. It's seriously cramping my summer style. It's been BEAUTIFUL in Seattle this year, we're on day 25 without rain! It's not fair! And now it's tests, appointments, vitamins, supplements, phone calls, all of this information to know and remember. COME ON!!! Anyway, that's what I've been up to since June 1st.
**************
Anyway, I meet with a surgeon on Wednesday June 17 and I think I will maybe know the size and we'll definitely discuss surgery options (um, because she's the surgeon. I'm getting so tired writing this so late...) Right now it sounds like the two basic ideas are (1) lumpectomy with radiation, maybe chemo (I think chemo is unlikely) and (2) mastectomy and none of that other stuff. And then little variations of these possibilities.
I got back two important test results (ER+ and PR+ tests and HER2neu test -- I won't go into it all because it's boring and I'm confused anyway) -- BUT... they came back as really good results indicating that it's a slow-growing, less aggressive cancer which is GOOD NEWS! Apparently breast cancer in young women is usually very aggressive and they were pleased to see this unusual result. Yeyyyyy!
**************
I am sure that you are as sick of hearing about this stupid lump as I am by now. If all this gives you any insight into my foggy brain of information overload. But I have to say this: I AM SO LUCKY. I'm lucky I have small breasts and found this lump two months before when my next annual exam would have been, I'm lucky that I have someone helping and guiding me through this entire process (more on this Angel-on-Earth later), lucky my parents and sister were here the first week of this, lucky my sister works in a hospital (= interpreter of medical info), Lucky that this is breast cancer. There's no way I will die from this and there are so many more horrible things that can happen to your health. All I can complain about is missing a couple of days of swimming.
But most of all, I am so lucky to have so many friends and family with so much amazing support and love and help and good vibes and good recipes and good stories and jokes. It makes this lump almost fun! (I just say that to keep myself from getting faklempt...)
Seriously, I love you all.
(And future entries will not be this long winded...)
-What was the diagnosis?
So far they are calling it an infiltrating ductal carcenoma. Welcome to my non-medical world where I'm on an insane learning curve of lingo and acronyms and so much information coming at me from so many different people my head is going to pop off.
Anyhoo, from what I understand --and could be completely wrong-- it sounds like a bunch of cells blob together and form a neat little mass. And this state is called 'in situ'? I think I have this somewhat right. My cancer is in milk ducts and it's gone from in situ to starting to hang out a little bit on the inside of these tubes and on the outside. Hence the 'infiltrating' and the 'ductal'. Anyhow, this is what they've determined so far from just the initial mammogram and the ultrasounds and all the stuff that happens with the biopsy. So who knows, this could change.
-So, wait, go back to the bathtub again
Oh yeah. So I calmed down thinking there weren't any hard peas to be found and as always I very easily talked myself out of any kind of worry that anything was wrong (this is how I ended up with a staff infection in the past) but some reasonable tiny part of the back of my brain was a bit shaken and got me over to the phone to leave a message for Dr. Woo at 11:30pm to please try and fit me in the next day, Monday May 18th. I had bad sleep and weird dreams. Awoke to his office at the Swedish Clinic calling me at 7:15am saying they had time at 10. Good.
Well, Woo thought there was definitely some cyst-like thing there and I shouldn't get worried because he couldn't feel anything hard...but... "we need to get this looked at and confirmed. You know, just to make sure." (Wait. That step wasn't supposed to happen. He signed me up for a mammogram. Um, ok. I was supposed to be dismissed like the last time I came to him with a mystery lump four years ago and he said it was nothing and to go home.) Oh, and they only do Fridays at the Ballard Swedish Hospital and this coming one was booked. I have to wait two weeks. Argh!
Friday May 29th, I have an 8:30am mammogram appointment, so excited to get this over with and have a day off. It's hot, I want to go swimming!
I'll speed this up: paperwork, paperwork, gown, leave pants and shoes on, go by machine, get squished, mushed, pinched, vice-griped, don't move, and if we see something not quite right we'll do an ultrasound. Go in little cold room, wait...wait...wait... Uh, Jenny, we'd like to do an ultrasound. Lie down, cold chair, cold gel, lots of talk about on the screen, I'd like a picture of that... and that... and that... ok, go change and meet the doctor in the waiting area. Well, we definitely found something but the only way we'll know if it's cancerous or not is to get a biopsy. It's Friday, is there anyway you can do this as soon as possible, like Monday or Tuesday? (Me: Ummmmmmmmm, what's happening? Where's the part where we all laugh that it's just a cyst and we did all this silly testing for nothing. Let's go home and see you after 40 when you are supposed to start having mammograms. Ho ho ho ho ha! Oh and wait -- my parents are coming Monday... how is this all going to work??)
In the meantime the doctor runs away. Nurse is talking to me about stuff I cannot even remember. Doctor comes back, sits me down and starts saying that if I can get up to First Hill Swedish Hospital across town and sit it the waiting room for a couple of hours, she spoke to her colleage up there whom she loves, trusts and is the best, she'll try to fit me in for a biopsy today. The results can take up to four business days so she'd rather have me get it in before the weekend. Oh yeah, and you CANNOT go swimming. (First of many notes to self right then and there: this process is really annoying and inconvenient.)
I am driving up there and I'm like "WHAT is going on here? This is crazy over-reacting!" This is getting long so I will leave out most of the details of some amazing events during this same day like when two couples in two pick up trucks drove up and asked me if I wanted the abandoned dryer in my backyard... and let's just say that by the end of this interaction the women said they were Prayer Warriors, honked their partners to stop driving away and the four of them deliver a pentacostal-like prayer in the alley for me ending in hugs and tears all around. They said the dryer was going to keep me from having bad cancer and drove away. My Dryer Angel. And then after my biopsy I met Brenda, this colorfully patterned and bedecked older black woman (man? transgender? I really could not precisely tell you) with a giant hat, silver teeth and a wheeled-walker, she (?) and I had a fantastic 15-minute talk in about a 30-yard stop-n-stroll together ending with her placing her giant warm hand on my shoulder and delivering a long, loud prayer of hope and love for me in front of First Hill Swedish Hospital's parking garage.
At this point I knew I might possibly be screwed. I hadn't even gotten back the results of the biopsy and beautiful strangers were already praying for me.
The biopsy results did not take four business days. I had it done late Friday afternoon and they called me Monday June 1 with the news at 3pm. It was so soon I wasn't ready for it. And at that very moment my parents were somewhere in the sky on a plane flying out, a trip they randomly planned a couple of months before. Hi Mom and Dad! Guess what's new?! Oy. But perfect of course. They were here, such great support and my mom could go to a couple of long appointments with me and get the big low-down which I am so, so, SO thankful for. I can't imagine relaying that all by phone... with a 3-hour time difference. And no facial expressions.
-Mammograms, ultrasounds, biopsies -- do you have insurance?!
YES thank goodness. I have been paying through the nose for a plan that was canceled a couple of years ago. They weren't making $ on it so they gave it the boot to newcomers. Instead they have been punishing me with a premium of $327/month. OUCH. I meant to look into cheaper plans because why am I paying for this when I am so ridiculously healthy? And really, I was in perfect health (I thought) before ol' lumpty dumpty showed up. Please please please, have someone who might understand look over your insurance and see what is actually covered. It looks like even with this great insurance I will still have to pay $10-15k out of pocket. But it sure beats $100,000 to $200,000... **whew**
-So what happens next?
In the past two weeks I've been tested, poked, prodded, blood work, peed in a bottle for 24-hours, pelvic exams, informational appointments. And I didn't know how hormonally tied breast cancer is. You need to get this test done on the 23rd day of your cycle, MRI on days 5-7, pee in the bottle day whatever...
This is why I feel like this lump is just a big annoyance. It's seriously cramping my summer style. It's been BEAUTIFUL in Seattle this year, we're on day 25 without rain! It's not fair! And now it's tests, appointments, vitamins, supplements, phone calls, all of this information to know and remember. COME ON!!! Anyway, that's what I've been up to since June 1st.
**************
Anyway, I meet with a surgeon on Wednesday June 17 and I think I will maybe know the size and we'll definitely discuss surgery options (um, because she's the surgeon. I'm getting so tired writing this so late...) Right now it sounds like the two basic ideas are (1) lumpectomy with radiation, maybe chemo (I think chemo is unlikely) and (2) mastectomy and none of that other stuff. And then little variations of these possibilities.
I got back two important test results (ER+ and PR+ tests and HER2neu test -- I won't go into it all because it's boring and I'm confused anyway) -- BUT... they came back as really good results indicating that it's a slow-growing, less aggressive cancer which is GOOD NEWS! Apparently breast cancer in young women is usually very aggressive and they were pleased to see this unusual result. Yeyyyyy!
**************
I am sure that you are as sick of hearing about this stupid lump as I am by now. If all this gives you any insight into my foggy brain of information overload. But I have to say this: I AM SO LUCKY. I'm lucky I have small breasts and found this lump two months before when my next annual exam would have been, I'm lucky that I have someone helping and guiding me through this entire process (more on this Angel-on-Earth later), lucky my parents and sister were here the first week of this, lucky my sister works in a hospital (= interpreter of medical info), Lucky that this is breast cancer. There's no way I will die from this and there are so many more horrible things that can happen to your health. All I can complain about is missing a couple of days of swimming.
But most of all, I am so lucky to have so many friends and family with so much amazing support and love and help and good vibes and good recipes and good stories and jokes. It makes this lump almost fun! (I just say that to keep myself from getting faklempt...)
Seriously, I love you all.
(And future entries will not be this long winded...)
Jenny-thanks for sharing your experience. I'm so sorry to hear the news but it sounds like you are in a good place. I am amazed by your courage-keep it up!
ReplyDeleteJenny, starting a blog was brilliant idea. Seriously when something this life changing happens to you do you really feel like telling the same story over and over? I don't. This way you keep everyone in the loop and everyone will pray for you and root for you. You always tell me what a technology loser you are but here you are starting a blog. You rule. I love the graphic up top. You are still my fancy little designer.
ReplyDeleteBy the way YOUR BODY LOOKS HOT!!!!! I can't believe how beautiful and trim you are. Your arms look awesome.
HI, I have cancer but my bod is HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!
My eyes totally welled up with tears reading this blog. This medical shit is all too personal to me.
I will talk to u soon. I hope you enjoyed the insane, long message I left I on your cell.
$100 hair brush dude. Seriously dude, only the french can charge that much for a hair brush.
Mag.
Oh man. I'm still in shock, but it seems like it's manageble? More soon...
ReplyDeleteOK, first of all. What? You are amazing--dealing with everything coming your way via crazy lump. I love you, and i can only echo Magda in saying great idea about the blog. Oh yeah, and your body is hot. --Rayray
ReplyDeleteomg! jenny, this is hilarious. the dryer angel?
ReplyDelete"i'm gonna wash that lump right out of my boob, i'm gonna wash that lump right out of my boob"
you are in our thoughts daily. we love and think the world of you. stay positive and happy and this will be a breeze. xoj
Dear Hot Bod, "That guy John" is right. You're hilarious and I think that you have a HUGE fan club/support group which is great. I'm going to find a Dryer Angel for our new back yard, maybe even before we have a new back yard. - Tracy M
ReplyDelete