Part two....seems like so many more parts, but here goes.
I was very faithful about getting my mammos every six months for the first two years, and then because there was nothing new or exciting, I was able to have one a year after that. I was good about it, but after some very difficult times in 2004, I let things slip. I had a mammo that year before everything in our lives slid into the Year From Hell. My mother died from emphysema in March. My grandson had six surgeries in five weeks in the summer, between June and July. He is shunted for hydrocephalus and it failed. Repeatedly. His story is for another day; maybe a book. He went from walking independantly to using a wheelchair. We nearly lost him during this time. He was at home using a hospital bed for months. We rearranged our family room to fit it in. He was so sick. And in so much pain. We spent many nights watching "Fly Away Home", a movie about a girl who rescues Canadian geese eggs, raises the hatchlings and releases them back into the wild. The music is very beautiful and peaceful and Adam would just watch and listen and sometimes miraculously drift off to sleep for a time. Physical therapists told us he would never walk again. (They were wrong!) But God was there through all of it. He never leaves us or forsakes us. He is the comforter and the lifter of my head. There is more, much more, but these are the highlights. I had no time for the next year to do much of anything but take care of Adam. He got better over time, but in 2006 he had more shunt problems and three more surgeries and we nearly lost him again. I justified putting my own health needs on the back burner. Never do this.
In 2008, in the spring, I finally went for a mammo. It had been 2 1/2 years since my last one. I was lectured and reprimanded by my gynecologist, and by the girls in Good Samaritan Hospital Breast Care Suite. But as usual, they took excellent care of me. I had my mammo and went back out to the waiting area until my results came back. Then: they needed more films. They also wanted to do a fine needle biopsy on one of the cysts in my left breast as it did not look good. So sure, fine, go ahead.
The results of the needle biopsy were fine. The repeat mammos were not. I had more micro-calcs, and they were very concentrated in one area. Not a good sign. I needed to come back for another stereotactic biopsy. (sigh) o.k.
A few days later I was back at the hospital for the test. They took TWENTY tissue samples. The radiologist does this test and she looks at it right away. She sat and talked with me for a while, and the lovely nurses did too. I can't say enough good things about the people who work there; they are kind, compassionate and sympathetic. They hold your hand and rub your back and talk to you while you go through your stereo procedure. They are hand-picked for their jobs and I think by the Lord. Theirs is a gift of empathy that I have rarely seen anywhere else. Thank God for them and the difference they make in the world. The radiologist told me I needed a surgeon once again, and it didn't look good. She really didn't want to say more.
I wanted a new surgeon after the last time, and they gave me a few names. I decided to go to the Carol Baldwin Center instead. There I would find every specialist I needed under one roof.
Gosh, I feel like this story could go on forever. I will be brief.
I found a wonderful breast surgeon who directed me to an oncologist. They both took very detailed histories and asked many questions. I discussed my bleeding problem the last time, told them that one of my daughters has Von Willebrands factor, and asked for help. I got it. Both doctors were amazed that no one had ever paid attention to my history and checked into the problem any further. There was a definite trail that was easy to follow if a person took the time to really listen. I now take a medication called DDAVP before I have any surgery and I don't have any problems. So simple. So important.
Dr. Palmeijer (pronounced palm-air) did my breast biopsy. She was kind and very thorough. I made an appointment to get the results on my birthday. I was fifty-six years old. I had cancer. Life changed in an instant.
The good news is that the type of cancer I had would rarely mestasticize, and I was at stage zero. I had DCIS----Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. Big words that mean I had cancer in a milk duct and it hadn't spread out of the duct to any other area of my breast. I had two choices; have a partial mastectomy and five weeks of radiation, or have a total mastectomy and no radiation. The main concern was for speedy surgery as the lesion was very near to my chest wall, and waiting would give it the chance to spread elsewhere. Dr. Palmeijer also suggested I have a radioactive dye test for my lymph nodes before the mastectomy (if I chose that option) to see if there was any chance that the nodes had been affected. This test can't be done after a mastectomy as the dye has to be injected into your breast in order to travel into the lymphatic system. So of course I agreed to have it done. And I decided to have a mastectomy; I did not want to have radiation. It seemed like a bad choice to me,considering I had already had a partial mastectomy, and the radiation can have adverse effects on your heart and anything else in the surrounding areas.It can also be very debilitating and have lasting effects on your energy and health. You can have reconstruction for a partial mastectomy, but I figured since I already had atypia and now dcis, the chances of getting cancer in that breast again were pretty good.
I also had a consult with the plastic surgeon. He told me about the different types of reconstuction that were available. I won't go into much detail, but I opted for reconstruction from my own body; no implant. Skin, muscle and fat from my abdomen would be used to make me a new breast. As it would be from my own body there was no chance of rejection. I could have the work done immediately after the breast surgeon finished my mastectomy. I would wake up with a breast instead of without one. I liked that idea. I thought I would be forever done with surgery in one hospital stay.
I didn't like the eleven hours it would take for everything to be accomplished. I wouldn't be aware of that anyway. But Paul would. He didn't care. He wanted me to have a mastectomy and be safe, and didn't care what kind of reconstruction I had, or if I didn't have any at all. I joked about maybe just putting a sock in my bra like my mother did. She had a mastectomy when she was seventy-five and couldn't be bothered with an implant and didn't like any of the mastectomy products. She just put one of her favorite white fuzzy socks in her bra and said, "The hell with it!This is more comfortable." I think she was right. But we made plans for the whole process and jumped on in.
I was very faithful about getting my mammos every six months for the first two years, and then because there was nothing new or exciting, I was able to have one a year after that. I was good about it, but after some very difficult times in 2004, I let things slip. I had a mammo that year before everything in our lives slid into the Year From Hell. My mother died from emphysema in March. My grandson had six surgeries in five weeks in the summer, between June and July. He is shunted for hydrocephalus and it failed. Repeatedly. His story is for another day; maybe a book. He went from walking independantly to using a wheelchair. We nearly lost him during this time. He was at home using a hospital bed for months. We rearranged our family room to fit it in. He was so sick. And in so much pain. We spent many nights watching "Fly Away Home", a movie about a girl who rescues Canadian geese eggs, raises the hatchlings and releases them back into the wild. The music is very beautiful and peaceful and Adam would just watch and listen and sometimes miraculously drift off to sleep for a time. Physical therapists told us he would never walk again. (They were wrong!) But God was there through all of it. He never leaves us or forsakes us. He is the comforter and the lifter of my head. There is more, much more, but these are the highlights. I had no time for the next year to do much of anything but take care of Adam. He got better over time, but in 2006 he had more shunt problems and three more surgeries and we nearly lost him again. I justified putting my own health needs on the back burner. Never do this.
In 2008, in the spring, I finally went for a mammo. It had been 2 1/2 years since my last one. I was lectured and reprimanded by my gynecologist, and by the girls in Good Samaritan Hospital Breast Care Suite. But as usual, they took excellent care of me. I had my mammo and went back out to the waiting area until my results came back. Then: they needed more films. They also wanted to do a fine needle biopsy on one of the cysts in my left breast as it did not look good. So sure, fine, go ahead.
The results of the needle biopsy were fine. The repeat mammos were not. I had more micro-calcs, and they were very concentrated in one area. Not a good sign. I needed to come back for another stereotactic biopsy. (sigh) o.k.
A few days later I was back at the hospital for the test. They took TWENTY tissue samples. The radiologist does this test and she looks at it right away. She sat and talked with me for a while, and the lovely nurses did too. I can't say enough good things about the people who work there; they are kind, compassionate and sympathetic. They hold your hand and rub your back and talk to you while you go through your stereo procedure. They are hand-picked for their jobs and I think by the Lord. Theirs is a gift of empathy that I have rarely seen anywhere else. Thank God for them and the difference they make in the world. The radiologist told me I needed a surgeon once again, and it didn't look good. She really didn't want to say more.
I wanted a new surgeon after the last time, and they gave me a few names. I decided to go to the Carol Baldwin Center instead. There I would find every specialist I needed under one roof.
Gosh, I feel like this story could go on forever. I will be brief.
I found a wonderful breast surgeon who directed me to an oncologist. They both took very detailed histories and asked many questions. I discussed my bleeding problem the last time, told them that one of my daughters has Von Willebrands factor, and asked for help. I got it. Both doctors were amazed that no one had ever paid attention to my history and checked into the problem any further. There was a definite trail that was easy to follow if a person took the time to really listen. I now take a medication called DDAVP before I have any surgery and I don't have any problems. So simple. So important.
Dr. Palmeijer (pronounced palm-air) did my breast biopsy. She was kind and very thorough. I made an appointment to get the results on my birthday. I was fifty-six years old. I had cancer. Life changed in an instant.
The good news is that the type of cancer I had would rarely mestasticize, and I was at stage zero. I had DCIS----Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. Big words that mean I had cancer in a milk duct and it hadn't spread out of the duct to any other area of my breast. I had two choices; have a partial mastectomy and five weeks of radiation, or have a total mastectomy and no radiation. The main concern was for speedy surgery as the lesion was very near to my chest wall, and waiting would give it the chance to spread elsewhere. Dr. Palmeijer also suggested I have a radioactive dye test for my lymph nodes before the mastectomy (if I chose that option) to see if there was any chance that the nodes had been affected. This test can't be done after a mastectomy as the dye has to be injected into your breast in order to travel into the lymphatic system. So of course I agreed to have it done. And I decided to have a mastectomy; I did not want to have radiation. It seemed like a bad choice to me,considering I had already had a partial mastectomy, and the radiation can have adverse effects on your heart and anything else in the surrounding areas.It can also be very debilitating and have lasting effects on your energy and health. You can have reconstruction for a partial mastectomy, but I figured since I already had atypia and now dcis, the chances of getting cancer in that breast again were pretty good.
I also had a consult with the plastic surgeon. He told me about the different types of reconstuction that were available. I won't go into much detail, but I opted for reconstruction from my own body; no implant. Skin, muscle and fat from my abdomen would be used to make me a new breast. As it would be from my own body there was no chance of rejection. I could have the work done immediately after the breast surgeon finished my mastectomy. I would wake up with a breast instead of without one. I liked that idea. I thought I would be forever done with surgery in one hospital stay.
I didn't like the eleven hours it would take for everything to be accomplished. I wouldn't be aware of that anyway. But Paul would. He didn't care. He wanted me to have a mastectomy and be safe, and didn't care what kind of reconstruction I had, or if I didn't have any at all. I joked about maybe just putting a sock in my bra like my mother did. She had a mastectomy when she was seventy-five and couldn't be bothered with an implant and didn't like any of the mastectomy products. She just put one of her favorite white fuzzy socks in her bra and said, "The hell with it!This is more comfortable." I think she was right. But we made plans for the whole process and jumped on in.
2 comments:
Ginnie,
I'm a friend of Jess. Thank you for writing and sharing your story-you're a great writer! I read with great interest, having had several friends and a mother-in-law die of breast cancer.
My mammogram is scheduled for two weeks from tomorrow :-)
Blessings,
Kristine Magee
thanks for your comments, Kristine! I appreciate the encouragement and I am glad to hear that you are going for your mammogram. I hope it's a good one! Peace, Ginnie
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