It IS October, after all.

Last week at work, I found myself hunting for a contact at a particular hospital. I needed to find an I.T. contact to work with for a change being made in our system to correct a problem this hospital was having interfacing with ours. We just needed to do some tests. The woman I had been working with the week before (the lab manager) was out of town. She mentioned the name of this other gal who turned out to be the honest to goodness I.T. person I needed.

I will call her Sandy. When I reached Sandy the first day she sounded like one of those 'tell me what you need and I'll get 'er done' kind of people, she understood what I was looking for and went ahead and produced it for me. I thanked her and hoped I wouldn't need to track her down again, she was very very busy.

A day later though, I got an email asking for something else from Sandy so I called her again. This time I got her voicemail saying she was working from home that day. I didn't want to push her, I mean, who knows why she was working from home that day? So I left her a message explaining what I was looking for and asking her to call me back when she could.

Late in the day I got a call and it was Sandy. She apologized to me, called me Angel, said she was so sorry it took her so long to get back to me but .. *sigh* .. she had been diagnosed with breast cancer and had had a bad night the night before because of her chemo. And she was apologizing to ME! Such a sweetheart of a lady. She once again produced what I needed and I thanked her profusely, hoping she would start to feel better soon. Lame. Lame I tell ya!

This lady was not a regular client I talk to all the time. I only talked to her for the first time last week. And I really don't need to talk to her again, at least until something else comes up - and any one of a number of people other than me may handle that issue. So I may never talk to her again. But I want to call her again. I want to ask her if she uses the internet, if she has come across the many "families" of breast cancer survivors, fighters, and their loved ones all over the internet. People who put themselves out there to tell their stories to help others who may end up in that place.

I don't know her. But, I think I'm going to call her back anyway. Please - I know you have links I can give to her, resources for information and for strength and camaraderie and commiseration. Please share them with me, so I can share them with her.

Thanks!

A search is a search is a search

I love reading posts where bloggers talk about the searches people have used to find their blog. Most of the time I’m laughing at the bizarre things people search for and the rest of the time I’m saying “what on earth..?” Too funny.

Someone found me with “how does a June bug know it’s June?” Why do you want to know?

There was “what does it mean when a cat holds it’s foot up?” Hmmm, well I imagine there is something keeping him from putting it down. Usually pain!!

“Should I shave my legs every day I’m abroad?” They could have given some details – is there going to be a beach involved, or is this a winter vacation? Who are you going with? They might care.

“How angry am I?” Is this person really asking this? Cause I think they would know better than anyone else about their pissed-off-ness. Leave ME out of it!

“How many lives does a dog get?” I have it on good authority dogs only get one. That’s it. So if you want your money’s worth out of a pet, you might want to consider a cat.

Which brings me to “How many lives does a cat get?” Seriously?

I get a lot of cat searches and unfortunately a lot of vagina searches combined with things I don’t want to think about after I wrote about the Vagina Monologues. Lots of bead searches, but the one search that keeps coming up a lot, is titanium breast clip, or mammogram titanium clip. Titanium clip pain. I just wanted to say that the teeny tiny little clip they left in my breast is about the size of the tip of a pencil, and the ONLY time I think about it, or remember it’s there? When I see another search for it.

I understand, I am sure I searched for it before my mammatome too. But honestly – you searching ladies – it’s nothing. Truly. You will never know it’s there unless the doctor points it out to you on an x-ray or something and even then – it’s tiny. Don’t bother feeling for it because you won’t find it. It’s just the idea of it that’s weird but unless you have a blog and write about it – you will forget it’s there too. So worry about the results of the procedure, not the clip. Just sayin’.

And they left a titanium clip inside my breast. Really!

I was right, the hardest part of the biopsy was getting to the hospital by 6:30 in the morning. I didn't make it, but close enough. They still tortured me.

In reality the worst part of the procedure was the couple mammograms they took before hand, to pinpoint the spot and mark it with ink. That was a little painful but really I think that was more because of the tenderness I was experiencing due to the point I'm at in my cycle right now.

Laying on my stomach with my breast in the mammotome vice, the doctor gave me a shot to numb me and apparently cut a small incision. I say apparently because not only did I barely feel the shot - I had no sensation that something was being done. I never felt the probe enter my breast or move in and out enough times to take 6 specimens of about an inch long, about the width of spaghetti. I find that to be really really strange.

There was a nurse standing by whose main job seemed to be to narrate the process for me, and rub my back from time to time for that 'human' connection. But honestly - if she hadn't been telling me what was going on, I wouldn't have guessed. I suppose that means it was done very well and I never heard a single "uh oh" or "oops!" so to me that says successful.

I got a nice bandage and a really cute little ice pack and got to go home. They did offer me a coupon to go downstairs to their in house Starbucks (since when?) to have some coffee and a bite to eat. I politely declined, even offered it to one of the nurses but I guess that would be against the rules.

Here at home I napped the rest of the morning away and did some housework - even vacuumed and dusted this afternoon. As long as I don't use my right arm too much I should be fine. I made an appointment to go to see the surgeon on Monday afternoon to get my results and he will check on my healing then.

I'm thinking about what Suebob said though. Since this started I have had 2 mammograms, and an ultrasound each separately read by radiologists. Today there was a tech, a nurse, a radiologist and a surgeon all doing this procedure. I will be getting bills from the separate specialties as well as the hospital and surgeon. Woo Daddy, am I looking forward to that!!

On a more exciting note - today I signed up for BlogRush - you might want to check it out! I don't know about you but I can always use something else to drive more traffic to my blog.

And the most exciting note - my daughter is home from school for the weekend and is in the kitchen right now doing the dishes! You can't beat that!

I'd rather nap

I’ve been away from my blog for a few days, got some beading done and a few other things. I think I am getting a better idea how to balance blogging, beading, and well – everything else. Sort of. I was able to step away and nothing cataclysmic happened, so that’s a good thing. Well, not cataclysmic but Lara went off her meds which isn’t good and Amanda found out she is pregnant which is great – and those are the only 2 blogs I have read so far! I’m almost afraid to read more! I’m sure I will though, but at least I know I won’t suffer some kind of withdrawal if I decide not to read them all. That’s a step forward.

Tomorrow morning I get to go have my breast biopsy. Woo hoo! Exciting! Not. At least they are using some wonderful technology on me that will streamline the process somewhat and hopefully keep the pain to a minimum. Honestly? The worst part of it for me is being required to be at the hospital at 6:30 am. That’s just not humane. I am one of those people who are of the opinion that morning should start later in the day. Really. Maybe 10:30-ish …

If they were putting me out at least I would be able to go right back to sleep, but no such luck. Some people prefer not to be put out. A tooth pulled? No problem, give me a shot. Stitches? Go ahead, I’m fine. Remove a mole? Numb it and have at it. But if there is ever an option to be put out – I’m there. I don’t get nearly as nervous when I know somebody is going to stick a needle in my hand, wheel me into a room and next thing I know I am waking up in another room. So yeah, I have to be awake for this and be a big girl. Still, I would feel better about it all if it wasn’t quite so early in the morning. That is painful for me.

So, wish me luck in not making a fool of myself by weeping uncontrollably or begging for drugs, I am sure the procedure itself will be worse than the results. I’m pretty confident there, the numbers are SO on my side. But I’m not stupid, still need to go through with it.

It's not time yet

Another darkened room, another hospital gown, another female technician who is calm and quietly professional. The gel she uses is warm, unlike what I remember from my pregnancies. I am slightly anxious but more because I overslept and barely made it to my appointment on time, than about what I may be told today.

On my back with one arm raised above my head, turning my head to the side I can just see the screen Ingrid my tech, is looking at. It all looks like a messy tangle of fibers and wavy lines, there doesn’t seem to be anything I would recognize as breast tissue or a mass of any kind. Of course I have no idea how to read what is on the screen, and wonder idly if that’s why Ingrid lets me see it.

It seems to be taking a long time but I am sure it is really only 10 minutes or so, it just seems like forever. I am not used to lying still without something to occupy me whether it be my laptop, the TV, my beading, a book, or the face of the person I am talking to. It hurts my neck to turn this way for any length of time, but I force myself to do it so I can see the screen. I need to look at something.

Finally Ingrid is done. She places a washcloth on my breast and pulls my gown closed. She moves with purpose across the room where she sits in front of another screen to, as far as I can tell, review the shots she has saved and will give to the radiologist. She tells me she will go consult with him and will be back in a couple of minutes. With nothing left to look at I close my eyes and hope to drift. Peacefully.

Not long after, the door opens and the rest of the overhead lights come on. I shade my eyes, complain about my nap being interrupted and I smile. Here is Ingrid and Dr Something I Did Not Hear. He tells me that the ultrasound would show if the spot they were looking at was a cyst, but they could not see it with the ultrasound. Not a cyst. It could be nothing, still not time to worry, but because it was not there when I had my previous mammogram in 2003, it still needs to be identified. He will pull the previous films again and review those with my new film, as well as the ultrasound. Then he will let my doctor know what he recommends. It may be an MRI, it may be a biopsy, but it will definitely be something.

Please, he says, follow up with your doctor tomorrow.

Of course.

Two hours later my doctor calls me at work. She is a nice lady, comforting and reassuring but direct and to the point. “The radiologist is recommending a biopsy.”

She tells me how it shouldn’t be too bad. I will be on my stomach on a table with a hole in it which will allow my breast to hang through it. How flattering. They already know it will ‘hang’. Then my breast will be flattened like when doing a mammogram, and the needle will be directed with something akin to GPS technology, minus the voice telling the doctor to turn left at the next cross street. She says she has had it done and it’s not that bad. Yet my mind flashes back to Jenn at Serving The Queens, with that needle in there poking around and around until they hit something. Ugh. I have a high pain tolerance. But that does not mean I like pain.

Then she tells me what I repeat later when I am explaining to my daughter and my BF, and what I will repeat here as well.

“It is probably nothing to worry about. Over 80% of biopsied breast abnormalities are benign, and if it does turn out to be something” she pauses “then that mammogram just saved your life because it will have been found so early.”

See? Still not time to worry.

Just go.

In my bosses office the other day with 2 co-workers and my boss, I scratched my head and said "do I have any days off this week?" They looked at me and being used to my stupid questions, they simply answered me. "No-o-o...." I still needed clarification. "Is there a reason I don't have any days off this week?" Suffice it to say I promptly asked for a day off (today) when I discovered there was no reason not to. There is something to be said for working for the same company for 20 years.

I didn't want to waste an entire day off like I usually do, so I decided to make an appointment to see a dermatologist, just to have some moles looked at and to inquire about the brown patches on my face. Lovely things, those. No big deal. Appointment made, for 7:15 in the evening, good! I could still sleep in. Really really sleep in. As an afterthought, I decided to do what my gyne and my primary care physician (the smart ass) have been recommending for a year and I have not done, and schedule a mammogram as well. No symptoms, just a screening, just seems to be a little something going around these days and I thought I should finally wise up and just do it. Like Nike.

Arriving at the hospital (I had preregistered) I checked in and was given a letter. A. Yes, I was letter A. Just like Sesame Street, I felt like I should do something educational. Before my butt hit a chair I heard "letter A" being called. Weird. So I went and verified my info with a nice lady who of course had me initial all these paragraphs on this form that of course I did not read. And I signed it. I didn't even get to sit down at that point, I was directed to the big double glass doors of THE BREAST CENTER written in all caps above. Why were they shouting at me? I will admit though, those doors opening all on their own as I approached, one in and the other out, made me feel the tiniest bit important.

I finally got to sit down in THE BREAST CENTER, but only long enough to fill out another form with really easy questions like; have you ever had breast cancer? have you ever been pregnant? Things I could answer. I finished that and brought it up to the gal at the desk who directed me to the dressing room to change. Go through the wood door there, turn left, then right, and you will see the dressing room. Go in and change and when you are done go into the "gowned" dressing room and have a seat. She reiterated, "left, right, change into a gown and sit." Yes Ma'am!

Now it starts to get fun. The second I walked out there was an x-ray tech looking at the door I was coming through, expectantly. Okay, it took me a little time because I was trying to find a gown that looked good on me. I finally gave up on that quest and put on what they had and went through the door. The x-ray tech was so nice, sweet really. She directed me into a room where we talked a bit waiting for another tech to clear the computer or something.

One thing I noticed about this little room with the really big machine, was the soft lighting. Romantic, almost. Once the 2nd tech left the room, my tech didn't waste any time while still being ever so gentle and empathetic it was amazing. Maybe it's that we all have breasts, I don't know, but she was good.

First it was - take my arm out of one side of the gown and stand there all nice and exposed, except that the tech obviously was very good at not making people feel uncomfortable about how big and saggy their boobs are. There was a lot of touching as she stood next to me and positioned me, with her arm around my back and slight pressure from her body, she told me where to put my arm, relax my shoulder, reach over there and left foot red!!! She gently placed my breast on the glass plate, and once she had me lovingly placed just so, she pushed the squish button and lowered the whole weight of the top of the machine down on my breast! Okay, it wasn't that bad. C'mon ladies, it's a bit uncomfortable, but I found the take your arm out of one side of the gown and let me see how fat you really are, much more painful!

There were 2 poses on each side, and it was done. I actually thought as I was doing it, this is not a big deal, why did I think it was a pain to bother with? It really took so little time and I was done before I knew it. My tech was so gentle I almost wanted to ask if she wanted to take a few more. But no, I tied my gown up as she stood behind the window to check the x-rays to see if they were technically okay or if there needed to be a do-over before I left. I walked to the side of the screening wall and could see the screen where she was looking at, well, me. I tell you what, because they take your breast and lift (lift being the operative word) it up onto that plate, the x-ray made me look all high and perky and gorgeous! It was almost worth the trip just to see that! But to my surprise, glancing at the screen I saw a tiny little bright spot at the top of that beautiful, perky breast.

I went to get my screening because it was something I was supposed to do. I had my last mammogram (I found out today) in 2003. I had put it off for no other reason than I was being lazy about it. Then with WhyMommy and all, I just thought, well - it's almost hypocritical of me to profess support for her when I am not taking care of myself. Especially putting the button on my blog and urging people to be aware. I knew I needed to do it. But I was not worried, I have no symptoms, although I find the self exam pretty useless as I've always been a bit lumpy, so I haven't really counted on it. Still, no symptoms, nothing to worry about, I went more to ease my conscience than anything.

So when I saw that little white spot (which I am guessing was my imagination) I was surprised by the jolt it gave me. What??? I am here to make myself feel better, not about my breasts, but about urging other people to do something I have not done myself. I didn't come to this hospital to find out something may actually be wrong with me!! Because, this stuff happens to other people, right?

I am sure I am just fine. I think there must have been some sub-conscious fear I wasn't aware of that made me see that white spot, or, if I did see it - it's something normal, like the missing filling I lost from my tooth when I was 17 or something.

Point being, it doesn't just happen to other people. Schedule your mammogram today. Please.

Re-posting

I am putting this up here again because I pushed it off the top way too quickly with my electricity rant. This is too important to let sink quite so fast.

This is WhyMommy. She is a beautiful, young, incredibly articulate woman, wife, and mother. And she has breast cancer. That, of course is not all that defines her but right now it is the unwelcome focus of most of her days.

She has a type of breast cancer most of us know very little about called IBC or inflammatory breast cancer. WhyMommy writes about it here, she can explain it much better than I.

Please read her article. Then, say a prayer for WhyMommy and her family and tell her story to everyone you know. I managed to get to 48 years old never having heard of this kind of cancer and I am sure there are many many people like me out there. We need to educate ourselves and we need to support each other. Thank you WhyMommy, for telling your story and sharing your struggle with us. I'm praying for you.

This is WhyMommy

This is WhyMommy. She is a beautiful, young, incredibly articulate woman, wife, and mother. And she has breast cancer. That, of course is not all that defines her but right now it is the unwelcome focus of most of her days.

She has a type of breast cancer most of us know very little about called IBC or infammatory breast cancer. WhyMommy writes about it here, she can explain it much better than I.

Please read her article. Then, say a prayer for WhyMommy and her family and tell her story to everyone you know. I managed to get to 48 years old never having heard of this kind of cancer and I am sure there are many many people like me out there. We need to educate ourselves and we need to support each other. Thank you WhyMommy, for telling your story and sharing your struggle with us. I'm praying for you.