After a few adrenaline fueled days and nights short on sleep (not ruminating with worry but keyed up), I am feeling quite fuzzy in the brain area. My father-in-law, Don is visiting. He went on what was to be a short shopping trip, which turned out to take an hour. I forgot my shopping list and then kept remembering things that I needed from rows back. He was patient and didn’t seem to mind meandering around the store. Actually, knowing him, he probably enjoyed it.

I have two fairly complicated psych reports to finish this weekend, though. I have designated writing days, Thursday and Friday but between being told I had cancer on Thursday morning and spending nearly all day at the hospital on Friday, I didn’t get much done. I’ve done all of the easy stuff, scoring and entering the scores into my report template. But now I still need to write the parts that do not fit a template because they are the narrative bits of the report as well as the recommendations. Oh yeah, I have to figure out the diagnoses, too. One of the kids is puzzling me because the data are not corroborating across reporters and I can’t think of a variable or set of variables to explain the discrepancies. Phew, explaining what I have to do actually kind of maxed out my brain power. And it was kind of a boring description, to boot.

It’s a three day weekend. I’m going to sleep on it and see if I have adequate coherence to work on it another couple of hours tomorrow.

And yes, I could have cancelled the parent feedbacks I have scheduled for next Tues, which are making it so I need to finish these reports by then. I don’t see the advantage, though. I think I’m going to need this time even more later.

Okay, this is not my best writing but then again, take another look at the title.

I told Zoey about my cancer today. At first, she thought she was in trouble even though I said, “I need to talk to you about something important and you are not in trouble.” She sat wide eyed as I told her the following, “You know how I told you that I was having some medical tests? Well, the bad news is that I am very sick. The good news is that it was discovered early and there is a very, very high chance that I will be okay and live a long and happy life.” I described more, that I have cancer, a very small tumor in my breast, and that I will have surgery on June 26th likely followed by 6 weeks of radiation treatments. I never know what to expect of Zoey in reacting to different things. Her response? “Can I meet the surgeon?” I think that’s pretty darned sweet. I told her that we could probably arrange for that at my next meeting with him in a couple of weeks.

 

P.S. I may be asking one of you all to give her a ride back to school after she has a chance to meet Dr. Beatty. It’s my pre-op appointment and John will probably want to stay for the whole thing.

The results from the MRI I did earlier today are back already! The purpose of the MRI was to see if there was any evidence of cancer not detected by the other tests. The results of the MRI showed no new issues. Dr. Beatty called himself. (Maybe I was wrong before assuming that the physician only calls with bad news). So, this is some good news after a trifecta of bad news (abnormal screening mammogram, abnormal diagnostic mammogram, cancer indicating biopsy). It’s nice to break the streak of negative news. Knock on wood.

Today was quite an eventful day. We met with Dr. Beatty, the surgeon at Swedish Medical Center. He was excellent. My friend, Nancy, John, and I sat through a quite action packed presentation. He said that my tumor looked tiny, about 8mm in diameter. He said that it was slow growing and I’d probably had it for about two years. For those of you into staging, the current staging in 1B (between 5mm and 1cm and no apparent lymph node involvement.)

Dr. Beatty was quite impressive, very patient, experienced, and an excellent teacher. He was reassuring without appearing as if he were glossing over risks.

John was awesome, asking good questions, being there, and holding my hand. Nancy was terrific. She took notes on her laptop and then asked questions that I would never even have thought to ask such as “Should Elizabeth get an oncologist now or wait?” (Huh? I thought they were all oncologists, says the lady who just found out that she had cancer yesterday.)

So the probable treatment plan:

1) Surgery on 6/26. Most likely this will be a lumpectomy. Dr. Beatty will remove a piece of tissue about the size of the golf ball because he is trying to take out the tumor plus a 1 1/2 centimeter margin surrounding it.

2) Radiation treatment starting approximately 3 weeks later, daily for 6 weeks.

3) Hormone blocking medication. Lab tests indicate that my tumor’s growth is intensified by estrogen and progesterone. I will take this medication for approximately 3-5 years.

I also have a number of tests or results that are coming up:

1) I got a blood draw today. When I originally wrote this post, I thought the blood was for genetic testing to see if I had one of the known breast cancer causing genes. That thought turned out to be incorrect. I’m not quite sure what Friday’s blood was for. I’m sure they used it for good wholesome data gathering purposes that I will receive in a lab report. I blame my muddled brain at the time of the surgeon’s appointment.

2) I did an MRI today. (So proud of myself, too since I am a bit claustrophobic. Every time I see an MRI machine on t.v., I think, “I really don’t want to go into one of those unless they give me a sedative.” In addition to being enclosed, they are also loud. They also don’t want you to do deep breathing because that messes up the imaging. Fortunately, it was not as bad as I thought it would be. Oh wait, I didn’t tell you what the MRI was for. The MRI is used as another way to make sure there aren’t any other tumors in other places.

So that’s enough mumbo jumbo for now.

This content is password-protected. To view it, please enter the password below.

I had a routine screening mammogram on 5/7/12 at the mobile mammogram unit (a mobile home that travels around the Swedish Neighborhood Clinics in Seattle) for Swedish Comprehensive Breast Center. By early the next week, the main Swedish office called to schedule a diagnostic mammogram, which I had on 5/17. I underwent the mammogram and an ultrasound. On the same day, the radiologist who had completed the mammogram told me that there was a very small area of tissue in my right breast that didn’t look like the rest of the tissue. She recommended an ultrasound guided biopsy. I had the biopsy done on 5/22.

Today is May 24th. At about 10 am, the radiologist called to tell me the results of the biopsy. As soon as she identified herself, I figured that the biopsy showed malignancy. Why would they have a physician call with news that the results were benign? That’s a lot of phone calls plus people receiving that happy news probably wouldn’t have technical questions. Anyway, the doctor, whose name still escapes me, told me that I have the most common kind of breast cancer, invasive ductal carcinoma. Based on the imaging, the size of the tumor appears to be 1 cm but they won’t really know until surgery.

Within an hour, I was contacted by Dr. Beatty’s office to schedule a 1 1/2 hour long consultation about surgery, at 10 am tomorrow. I was happy to hear that I was referred to Dr. Beatty as he was highly recommended to me by my friend, Nancy, a cancer survivor and fellow psychologist who worked for four years overseeing cancer support groups in Seattle. When I told her what I knew, she was extremely reassuring and said (paraphrasing a bit), “Your cancer sounds straight-forward and boring. All of the surgeons at Swedish have done thousands of surgeries like this.” Then she said, “Well, I know it’s not boring to you” but I said, “I like to hear that my cancer sounds boring.” I do not want to be the star of a medical text book, no thank you. Nancy also offered to change her client schedule to be at the surgeons appointment with us. I am so grateful.

The last fact for today is that my hubby and I decided to wait until tomorrow to tell our 13 year-old daughter about this. We don’t want to tell her today and then send her off to school tomorrow. I hope the conversation goes as well as can be expected.

This content is password-protected. To view it, please enter the password below.

The purpose of this blog is twofold. First, the obvious reason is that writing about having cancer will be therapeutic for me. Thanks to my mom for the idea. Second, it gives all of you loved ones, whom I invited to this blog, an opportunity to get an update on what is going on and how things are going. I am keeping my last name off of the blog so that it doesn’t come in people’s Google searches for information about my professional services. I’d rather not have one of the first things that people learn about me is that I have breast cancer. I haven’t hidden my health status from people in my practice, the parents anyway, but I would rather explain it to people directly.

Finally, since I am a psychologist in private practice, I know how to communicate with authority, as if I know what I am talking about. And in my job, I have the knowledge to back it up. However, in my blog, I talk about medical issues. So although I am knowledgeable about medical stuff for someone who does not work in medicine, please don’t confuse my know-it-all communication style with actual actual expertise. I am learning as I go along and often go back to correct errors in my posts after I’ve learned more. And then there are the mistakes I make that I don’t catch. Moreover, cancer is not one illness and even for breast cancer, there are multiple different diseases. And even for those of you who might also have, or know someone with ductal carcinoma, every case is different. But the common element among all individuals with cancer is the stress of facing a life threatening illness while still trying to be a full person, not just a cancer patient. So whether you and I are in the same boat or if a loved one is in this boat, I send you my most healing prayers and wishes.

Lindbergh High School Reunion '82, '83, '84, '85

Join us this summer for our reunion in Renton, WA!

George Lakoff

George Lakoff has retired as Distinguished Professor of Cognitive Science and Linguistics at the University of California at Berkeley. His newest book "The Neural Mind" is now available.

KomenWatch

Keeping our eyes and ears open.....

4 Times and Counting

Confessions Of A 4 Time Breast Cancer Survivor

Nancy's Point

A blog about breast cancer, loss, and survivorship

After 20 Years

Exploring progress in cancer research from the patient perspective

My Eyes Are Up Here

My life is not just about my chest, despite rumblings to the contrary.

Dglassme's Blog

Wouldn't Wish This On My Worst Enemy

SeasonedSistah

Today is Better Than Yesterday

The Pink Underbelly

A day in the life of a sassy Texas girl dealing with breast cancer and its messy aftermath

The Asymmetry of Matter

Qui vivra verra.

Fab 4th and 5th Grade

Teaching readers, writers, and thinkers

Journeying Beyond Breast Cancer

making sense of the breast cancer experience together

Entering a World of Pink

a male breast cancer blog

Luminous Blue

a mother's and daughter's journey with transformation, cancer, death and love

Fierce is the New Pink

Run to the Bear!

The Sarcastic Boob

Determined to Manage Breast Cancer with the Same Level of Sarcasm with which I Manage Everything Else

FEC-THis

Life after a tango with death & its best friend cancer