Welcome to the magical world of transformation…

I searched the wall for something, anything to hold my attention away from the poking and prodding I knew was going on. I settled on counting the dots on the ceiling tiles, which got old quick. So instead I searched for groups of three dots. I like things that come in threes – just like my two sisters and me.

“Can you feel this?” he wondered.

“No,” I answered honestly. Couldn’t feel a thing. Not the needle prick. Not even the loneliness.

“Okay. Can I have an 18 gauge needle please?” he asked her.

Crap! Why the heck do I have to know that that’s a huge needle?!

I searched the ceiling frantically for the next bundle of three. There’s one!

Okay, now breathe.

I noticed that my leg muscles were tensed and I slowly released the tension. I remembered how when I gave birth I learned how to relax through the pain, which really helped relieve it. But, in all honesty, I wasn’t in any pain as the doctor inserted his large needle into my breast and pressed into the cyst. Too bad for me it wasn’t a fragile bubble of fluid just waiting to be popped. Nope. Instead the cyst turned out to be as hard to crack as a walnut.

The doctor would lean into the needle in order to penetrate the cyst and each time he applied more pressure I would tense and hold my breath. I was seriously afraid he would push too hard and the needle would slip puncturing the dreaded vessel again. I fought back the bloody images.

Instead I searched the trios of dots looking for anything that resembled the flowers on my sister Nancy’s blouse. When I was in labor with Carina, Nancy was my coach and she wore this v-neck t-shirt with tiny pink flowers all over it. When I had contractions I would immerse myself in the flowers, grip her hand, and the pain would subside even when the contractions didn’t stop. I remember feeling so safe with her by my side and I lay there alone in the breast spa wishing she was there with me.

“Got it! Can I have a 5 cc tube please?” he asked her.

“What color is it?” I asked and looked towards him for the first time since being poked.

“It’s greenish brown, which means that there is no need to send it to the lab.” He held up the tube of fluid he had withdrawn from my boob. It looked reddish brown to me, but it didn’t really matter as long as it was normal cyst fluid that doesn’t even need to be tested for cancer.

For the first time through this whole lumpy bumpy breast ordeal, there was quantifiable, touchable proof that I don’t have cancer. Yay! It’s such a relief to climb off this huge table, strip the cotton robe, and skip on outta here without waiting for more test results. I’ll take my deflated, but healthy boob with me and see ya in 6 months for a check-up. Thanks, Doc!

The Breast Spa {part 1}
The Breast Spa {part 2}

Tags: boob, breast, cancer, lumpy bumpy breast, sisters

{note: read part 1 first}

“Okay.  Some warm gel now, ” he said.

“Oh!  That’s so nice that it’s not cold,” I said surprised as he smeared the warm gel over my boob and pressed the ultrasound paddle against my lumpy, bumpy breast.

“We’re like the spa,” he replied smiling.

It’s true.  They kinda are like the spa with the robe, dim lighting, soft music, and warm gel…except for the part where he sticks me with a big, fat needle!

After a few minutes of slipping and sliding around my boob he said, “I don’t see a mass.  I see a cyst and a little oval shape behind this vessel.”

That must have been the vessel the surgeon hit, I thought.

“But, I don’t think it’s a mass,” he continues, “I think it’s an injury to the artery from the last biopsy.  Look at this.”

He goes on to show me where the cyst is.  It’s buried underneath a lot of breast tissue.  He said it’s probably been there for a long time even though I just found it a month ago.  Then he shows me the other dark spot and there’s this red and blue line pulsing in front of it.  He says it’s the artery and that because it’s traversing the dark spot, that it’s probably not a mass and most likely nothing to be concerned about.

Honestly, I couldn’t make the connection between what he was saying and what he was showing me.  The screen was fuzzy and things kept moving.  He spoke in probably’s and most likely’s.  I wanted to see and hear something concrete; something I could wrap my hands around and hold onto.  Instead the only thing to grasp was faith in his opinion, which he seemed kind of skeptical about himself.  But, he was certain about aspirating the cyst instead of doing another biopsy, which was such a relief to me because that meant no more spring-loaded needles!

She came over and wiped off all the now-cold gel and washed my breast with red sponges of betadine soap.  Chills ran up and down my body.

“Can you roll over towards the wall please?” she asked and wedged some cushions underneath my side and bottom to prop me up.

“Okay, now lift your arm up over your head and rest it on the pillow.”

Could this be any more uncomfortable? My fingers stared to tingle and I wondered how long I could hold this twisted and skewed position.  Well, if my arm and back hurt, then maybe my boob will hurt less!

He draped sterile towels over my chest leaving only my boob exposed.  “Please don’t touch these,” he instructed.  “Okay, a little pinch now.”

I turned my head away from him searching the blank white wall for something to focus on.  Why didn’t they have beautiful artwork in here like they did in the hallway?  What kind of spa is this anyways?!

Tags: biopsy, boob, breast, cancer, health, lumpy bumpy breast, ultrasound

If us women paid them as much attention as the guys do then maybe breast cancer would be a thing of the past!

Photo artwork by classic perfection

“Ms. Rae?”

“Yes,” I answered standing up.

“Right this way please,” she pointed through the doorway and down the hall.

“Can my husband come too?” I hoped.

“No, not right now. Maybe later. We’ll see what the doctor has to say.”

“Okay,” I shrugged and walked through the door alone.

She led me to a dressing room just like the kind they have at Macys filled with multiple stalls and doors with sliding chrome locks.

“Take everything off from the waist up and put this on,” she instructed handing me a thick cotton robe with the words Breast Center embroidered in pink across the front pocket.

–

When I came out of the dressing room she wasn’t there. Do I go find her? Is she waiting for me somewhere else? I glanced around the corner in the hallway and didn’t see anyone. So instead I sat down and started reading People magazine. There was another lady waiting, but she didn’t look up and I just knew it was better to sit quietly without talking. My husband was only a few steps away behind the closed waiting room door, but I felt so alone.

“Okay, Ms. Rae, come with me.”

Tucking my lonliness safely away within the pages of People, I put the magazine back on the table and shuffled down the hall in my robe, jeans, and red tennies.

“How does your husband do with blood and needles?” she asked.

“Yeah, not so good. I guess it’s better if he waits outside.” Oh my gosh. Am I seriously giving up the comfort of my husband voluntarily? I really wanted to feel the touch of his fingers around my hand. Something to hold onto. Eyes to look into that would show me that I’m safe. That I’m okay. But, I gave it up. I let it go. And I ignored my need for his presence to spare him a few moments with a needle and possibly some blood. I pushed it all down to make it easier for him.

–

I climbed up the stairs and made myself as comfortable as possible on the cushioned table.

“Is music okay? she asked.

“Sure,” I replied and she flipped on some classical tunes.

“I’m going to go get the doctor now. I’ll be right back,” she said dimming the lights before leaving me alone.

And as soon as she left, it hit me: the vulnerability. I felt so small on this huge table and even the ultrasound machines were bigger than me. I glanced around the room looking for something to make me feel better. Tears began to swell. I wanted to run and go get my husband. But, the door opened and there they were. I quickly shoved the tears back into the deepest, darkest part of my soul and looked at the doctor.

“Hi, Ms. Rae,” he said. “Are you ready for your procedure?”

“Yes,” I lied with a smile.

Tags: biopsy, boob, breast, cancer, needles

I saw the surgeon again this past week. What can I say? I don’t like seeing him! The first time I met him he poked me 4 times with a spring-loaded needle and I bled all over the place. The second time wasn’t as messy, but almost just as painful.

I found out that even though the initial biopsy was benign – I’m not out of the woods yet. You see, they aren’t 100% sure that the sample they collected was actually from the mass. I know! How could he miss? It was the size of a walnut! Now it’s the size of a plum with the bruising and swelling (thankfully, it doesn’t really hurt much these days). But, I guess I must agree with the doc that the initial biopsy was a “shot in the dark”.

Well, the second one won’t be because it will be illuminated by the power of ultrasound…yes, they are going to harpoon me again! But, we can’t do it for at least 2 weeks because of the hematoma.

You know, when I first found the lump it turned my life all upside down. Now I feel sorta numb to it all. I mean, there’s nothing I can do to hurry it up. I have the appointment and that’s that. I won’t find out the results until probably a week after the test and if I do have cancer, why not live the next 3 weeks in the luxury of not knowing?! I’ve decided I’m just going to get on living my life no matter what the results. Pretending that I’m already dead certainly won’t help me heal!

Oh crap….I’ve gotta go pack now because we’re going out of town for a couple of days! But, before I do I just have to say that it is really easy to feel like a victim through this whole process. But, when I step back and look at it, I get to decide what doctor to see, when to see him, and what to do next. Doctors are people I hire to help me with my health. Yeah, they might mess up sometimes, but they’re still human and doing the best they can. So, I’m going to remember that I’m in charge here, look at the bright side, and simply trust God that all is as it should be.

Tags: body, boob, breast, cancer, health, trust

Factoria Mascara 2

Photo artwork by londonlens

Okay, so one reason why I blog when I’m at the office is because by the time I’m available in the evening I’m just so tired and sitting in front of the computer is not high on my desire-list. But, I also like sharing with ya’ll so here I am…

Within the last couple of days I’ve really felt a huge shift within myself. I mean, finding the strength to live fully with purpose and positivity in the shadow of a potential life-shattering diagnosis was intense! And it’s interesting because a couple of months ago I thought to myself, “If I don’t step it up and really put myself out there, then God is going to shove me out there!” But, honestly I didn’t think the shove would be in the form of a breast lump.

This morning while I was journaling I wrote, “If I’m going to die soon, then why not just put it all out there?” Obviously that was before I found out the lump is benign. But, I absolutely love the freedom in that perspective. I mean, we’re all going to die someday…so why not just put ourselves out there while we have the chance?!

Tags: boob, breast, cancer, death, die, happiness, life

Sky is the limit

Photo artwork by Subash Chandran

“Good morning.  This is Cassandra.” (she called on my business line)

“Oh hi, Cassandra.  This is so-and-so from your doctor’s office.  The doctor wanted me to let you know that your test results are back and it’s benign.”

One sentence and my life is monumentally better!  Just a few words and my whole outlook has shifted!  Woohoo!  How awesome is that?!

There is a whole heck of a lot I still have to say, but I’ve gotta rush off for my first appointment of the day.  It’s a beautiful and busy day…the first one of many more to come :~)

Tags: benign, boob, breast, cancer

Just a quick note to let you know that there’s no news from the doc yet. I called this morning first thing and left a message hoping to find out today the results from the biopsy. But, they never called me back. It’s okay though because I was busy with lots of good stuff today. I’m super tired, but I had a good day. So I went on flickr and searched “tired” and found this awesome photo. It made me smile :~)

Tags: biopsy, boob, breast, cancer, tired

I’m in the office and there are probably a hundred other things I should be doing right now. But, blogging I am because I need it. Because I’m trying to make sense of things I don’t know. Because I’m waiting.

And sometimes I feel like giving up.

“Are you worried?” she asks.

long pause

“Well, yeah,” I finally answer.

“Oh don’t do that.”

It’s so easy to say it: just don’t worry about it. And I know that worrying is like a prayer for your worst fears to come true. But, it sucks me in.

Like a vacuum.

And it’s empty while filling me up all at the same time.

“Did the doctor really tell me not to worry?” I ask him while looking away and searching for something I cannot see.

“Yup. He said not to lose any sleep over it.”

“That was the first doctor and she said that when she thought it was only a cyst.”

“Oh yeah. You’re right.”

For once, I wish I was wrong and the wisp of hope washes down my cheek.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he hopes.

“I don’t know.”

That’s just it. I don’t know.

“That would be the hardest part for me. The fact that it’s all out of my control and happening in my own body,” she told me a few days ago when she found out about the biopsy.

Yeah, it seems like I’ve been challenged a lot lately in the letting go of control category. There is this theory that life (AKA God) will give you the same challenge over and over until you learn what you need to from it.

Yeah, and graduate to bigger and better challenges.

Isn’t that weird? How we strive to achieve more when often times our achievements move us into new and terrifying territory where we are stretched beyond what we thought capable?

Some would define that as the meaning of life: growing, stretching, learning, achieving.

Me…I’m just waiting.

And blogging.

Tags: boob, breast, cancer, control, fear, God, meaning of life

This morning when I was journaling I set an intention for the day to see the perfection in everyone and everything. And then it hit me: what’s so gosh darn perfect about having a lump in my breast?!

My immediate thought was, “I don’t know. But, it certainly doesn’t help to view it as bad, evil, and wrong. So why not find the perfection in it?”

I think it’s a nice direction to be headed in. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to embrace it yet.

I mean, I can look back on the problem I had with my eye (I have a permanent blind spot in my left eye) and see how perfect it truly was. But, that’s three years down the road.

Why do we work so hard to prolong our lives anyhow? Certainly not to be miserable.  So even though I’m not ready to look at all of this as a “good” thing.  I am ready to enjoy the beauty of the moment.  My husband and I are going to go for a walk and grocery shopping.  Afterwards, we’ll probably snuggle up on the couch and watch Lost on DVD.  And tonight we are going over to a friend’s house for dinner and games.

Today truly is a gift and perfection is all around me…it’s simply a matter of choosing to see it.

Tags: boob, breast, happiness, life

{warning: graphic blood-squirting boob-talk post}

My boob *h&u@r$t^s!

If you can’t decipher that….I’m in PAIN! I met with the surgeon yesterday and he poked the lump in my boob to confirm that it is a cyst. Basically, if he can draw fluid, then it’s a cyst and they just drain it right there and then. Unfortunately for me (and my sore boob) he couldn’t draw any fluid, which means that it’s not a cyst like everyone thought.

Darn.

So on to the breast biopsy, which I didn’t think would be a big deal. In fact, a friend of mine had one not too long ago and she told me that it’s a simple procedure they do right in the office. No problem.

The doctor explained how they would make a tiny cut in the skin and use a spring-loaded needle to collect a sample.

Okay.

He goes on to say how it needs to be done 3 times to make sure they get a nice big chunk of the walnut-sized mass nesting in my breast.

Okay.

So he shoots me with his loaded needle and then says something like, “Whoa! I must’ve nicked an artery. Can you hand me some more gauze please before she bleeds out!”

I’m looking away trying to stay calm and collected when the doc says, “How are you doing over there?” motioning towards my husband, “Keep the smelling salts close by. She’s fine. But, he might pass out!”

What the heck?! I’m the one bleeding all over the table!

He shoots me two more times and I think, “Thank goodness this is over!”

And then, “I can’t believe we didn’t get a better sample. This is the messiest biopsy I’ve ever done. We better take one more.”

Amazingly enough the fourth and last one didn’t hurt at all. Or maybe I was in so much pain I couldn’t feel it anymore.

As the doctor was cleaning me up (Can you please roll over so that I can get your back?) he starts asking me questions like, “Did you have any bleeding problems when you gave birth?”

Um, not that I know of. But, birthing is usually a bloody mess!

“Okay. All clean. Now I’m going to apply some pressure to stop the bleeding and try to minimize any bruising. ” He applies pressure (read: smooshes my boob as hard as he can) with a gauze bandage for what feels like an eternity while saying things like, “If we need to do any more tests a bruise would really get in the way and we’ll be happy we took this extra precaution.” Easy for him to say. He’s not the one being poked into a bloody mess and flattened into a pancake!

I left the office promising to ice it for a couple of hours to help with the swelling and reduce the bruising. I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in and we opted to leave one of our cars there so that I didn’t have to drive home. After the blood was cleaned up and contained, my husband was so helpful and caring. We went home and he fried up some pancakes and bacon for dinner. Then he took Gracie for a walk, washed the dishes, and had a friend drive him to pick up his car.

I took the day off today and have just been resting with an ice pack. Last night I soaked an entire bandage with blood…gross! And now my boob is all swollen. Strangely enough it’s not all black, blue, and purple. I’m super surprised. But, maybe all that smooshing really did help.

Now, I just have to wait for the test results which aren’t due back until Tuesday or Wednesday. It’s strange how calm I feel….or maybe I’m just distracted by the pain. Actually, it doesn’t hurt too much today as long as I take it easy and typing this post is the most strenuous thing I’ve done since the biopsy. Ultimately, the biopsy results (assuming he really did get a good/big enough sample) will tell us if it’s benign or malignant.

Holy cow! Did I just say that I’m waiting to find out if it’s benign or malignant? That’s just crazy. I was pretty upset earlier this week. But, today I feel pretty good. I mean, there isn’t a darn thing I can do about any of this except for nurture my body and soul as much as possible.

And when you stop and think about it…isn’t that something we should be doing every day of our precious lives?

Tags: "breast cancer", benign, boob, breast, cancer, malignant, surgery