Lisa's F-Cancer Blog

Today is the one year anniversary of my diagnosis. And I got quite the anniversary present. I found out the biopsy I had on Monday was benign.

Does this feel like deja vu? 

Let’s backtrack.

I messaged Dr. Brufsky’s office earlier this summer to let them know I felt a hard spot by my breast surgery scar. I didn’t know if it was scarring or something more. To be safe, they sent me for a mammogram and breast ultrasound, which I had last week (the earliest they could be scheduled – not soon enough for my liking!). 

The radiologist said there was scarring and possible fat necrosis, “a condition that most commonly develops after an injury or trauma to the breast tissue,” according to Breast Cancer Now. “A lump can form if an area of fatty breast tissue is damaged, for example during a biopsy or surgery. Necrosis is a medical term that describes damaged or dead tissue.” However, she said there was an area that didn’t fit all the characteristics. Based on my history, she wanted to be on the safe side, and was sending me for a biopsy. She said there was less than a 10% chance that it was something concerning.

She said I also qualified for a research study, to which of course I said yes! 

My biopsy was Monday at Magee. I was told to show up an hour early for the research study. After waiting for quite some time, I checked in with the front desk to make sure I hadn’t missed my name being called (a very real thing if you’re deaf!). Turns out the doctor did everything but actually sign the script, and they were having trouble getting that sorted. I went up to the Women’s Cancer Center to see if that would help, but by the time I got there, they’d already sent the signature down!

All this is to say, I was at Magee’s for a LOT longer than anticipated, because the research study and biopsy all had multiple steps.

What is the research study, you ask? The brochure calls it a “prospective assessment of contrast enhanced mammography to reduce biopsy rates.” Did you know that four out of five biopsies done annually are negative for cancer? “This study is intended to evaluate if some of the findings that currently require a diagnostic exam or biopsy can be correctly identified as benign, thus saving women unnecessary breast procedures.”

An IV was placed, and x-ray dye (the same kind used for a CT scan) was injected before the mammogram. This is the kind of dye that spreads warmth throughout your body and makes you feel like you’re peeing when you’re not. It’s fun!

The weird thing is the brochure said participants aren’t paid, so I wasn’t expecting to get $75! I would have done it regardless!

The numbing shot was the worst part of the biopsy. The “clipping” or the taking of samples was a lot more tolerable than last year. I don’t know if it was the location, tools, or doctor, but I’ll take it! Then I had to ice the area for 20 minutes every two hours for the first 24 hours (and longer if possible). I also had to wear a tight bra, like a sports bra, and avoid showering for 24 hours.

The nurse told me results would come in four business days. The doctor said two. The nurse warned me not to Google if I saw information in the portal, and suggested waiting for their phone call. But you know me — I was going to look!

So when the write up of the procedure came in, I read it, and yes, it freaked me out. I saw the part about “bi-rads” and the grading. I looked this up — the scale is from 0-6, with 6 being a known cancer. One was 4, “suspicious,” with less than 10% chance of it being malignant. The other was 4b, “moderately suspicious,” with more than 10% and less than 50% of it being something. Oh, and apparently I’ve had a nodule that’s been stable since it was spotted on a 2016 mammogram. No one ever told me about it!

Ack!

I vented to Thrivers, and one of them said she’s had half a dozen of these biopsies and they’ve all been fine. I guess this is the new normal once you have breast cancer. Still, that was reassuring. Tell that to my body, however! I’ve already been having difficulty sleeping because of menopause (if I don’t get my period by mid Sept, I will officially be in menopause as it’ll have been one year!), and the wait certainly didn’t help! I kept trying to focus on the positives. Like the report saying the suspicious area seemed to correlate to the stable nodule. That sounded like it could be ok? Or the fact that I had everything done to this breast this year, and just finished treatment June 1. Could something really grow that fast? Probably, but I was grasping at straws here!

I even told myself, if I’m ok, then dealing with being an empty nester surely can’t be as bad (that was a lie).

Last night was the worst. My anxiety manifested in my stomach and I had intense stomach pains that kept me up most of the night. My stomach still hasn’t settled! I was tempted to check to see if anything had come in, but held off until I had to get up. That’s when I saw the pathology report, which was a bunch of medical gobbledy gook. I saw a couple of things that seemed promising. Then I realized I had a message from Brufsky’s office. It was the PA, letting me know that the biopsy was benign. 

Holy shitballs, did I need that!!!!

What a hell of an anniversary present! Aw, cancer, you really didn’t have to get me anything!

So, to recap, a year ago today, I found out I had breast cancer. Today I found out it hasn’t come back.

Happy Anniversary to me!

I realized the other day that it’s time to clear out some of the detritus from cancer treatment. I still had Magic Swizzle under my bathroom sink, hats and beanies hanging in my closet, and a bin overflowing with head scarves. I don’t need this constant reminder, not when I’m trying to move past it.

But that prompted a question that turned into a post in Thrivers, my local breast cancer group: “I finished chemo at the end of February, yet my scarves and hats are still taking up space. Part of me wants to donate to women who could use them, but the other part of me feels like I should box them up and save them in case… you know. What have you done?”

Naturally, I’ve gotten a range of responses, but everyone understood the feeling. Some kept all of theirs, saying it makes them feel safe somehow and like they’re not jinxing themselves. Others gave them all away, as a way to put everything behind them.

I think what I’m going to do is donate the ones I didn’t really wear or didn’t really like, and keep the rest. We found a storage bin in the basement that will protect them and put them out of sight.

Someone recently shared something she saw online that’s super accurate:

“I think the hardest part of cancer treatment is the end – when everyone assumes you’re ‘cured’ and you no longer need their help or support. You’re in your weakest, most devastated state, plus you no longer have a mission you had when you began this journey: to kill the cancer. The cancer is toast, but so are you, and now like a soldier at the end of war, you need help putting yourself back together, only everyone has gone home since they assume the war has been won.” – Author unknown

I got my tattoo today!

I ended up going with a design my artist mother-in-law sketched. Despite my misgivings about the pink ribbon, it really says it all. People see it and immediately know what it represents. But my version is a little different, with a classic Ellen flower touch.

I opted for my outer forearm, because I didn’t want the tattoo in a super obvious place, nor did I want it to be too obscured. Just like my deafness, breast cancer is one part of my identity, not all of it. Plus, this location is already scarred from a 2000 accident (and maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much).

We were in and out in under half an hour. The actual tattooing only took 5-10 minutes. Aaron commented afterwards that he could tell the artist, Lauren, was experienced. She had a super steady hand and gave the design some dimension. Yes, it hurt, but it was fast!

As I told Lauren, I wanted something external to commemorate the shitty year I’ve had and how it’s changed me. In its own way, it also advocates for breast cancer awareness. I mean, getting “Check your tatas” would have been more direct, but not as aesthetically pleasing!

A week ago, the area around my scar started hurting. I didn’t know what to make of this, as my surgery was months ago. After talking to a couple of people and posting in my local breast cancer group (412 Thrive), I got my answer: it’s the nerves regenerating. Which is a good thing, but man, is it painful! Thankfully, after a few days, the pain went away. But I’m fully expecting it to come back. One person said she has it every day and her doctor told her she could feel it up to two years. Another person said her doctor told her it would be “years.”

My question now is, why wasn’t I told about this‽ Chalk this up to yet another detail that I had to find out on my own. Thank goodness for other survivors!

Speaking of, there’s one in particular that helped me throughout my journey. Kari and I met through Thrive, when we found out our journeys started around the same time. Kari was a little ahead of me, and had her surgery before chemo instead of after like me. We texted throughout, checking on each other regularly and complaining about our side effects, which felt never-ending.

Thanks to Facebook, we discovered that we were mutual friends with a Temple family whose son Jack is the same age as Doran. Kari’s daughter is a graduating senior as well. Yesterday, we went to Jack’s graduation party, where Kari and I finally got to meet in person after all this time. “We’re twins!” she proclaimed. You can tell by the picture that she’s right!

My taste buds are not 100% but I’d say they’re maybe at least 90% back.

I’m getting closer to finalizing my tattoo. I think I have a design (thanks to my mother-in-law’s help), but have to figure out sizing and placement. Initially, I wanted to avoid the pink ribbon because it’s so problematic. The thing is, it really is emblematic of breast cancer. You see a pink ribbon, and you know exactly what it means. So at this point, my design includes a pink ribbon…

If you know of any inspirational lines about strength or resilience, like Maya Angelou’s “Still I rise,” let me know! I LOVE this quote and would love to use that too, but it’d be appropriation since she wrote that poem about slavery. I’ve been told it’s in songs as well, but I’m not sure which came first – and Maya Angelou’s poem is definitely the most synonymous.

I had a follow up appointment with Dr. Brufsky today. The upshot:

I’m cleared to get the shingles vaccine, which I should get now that I’m 50. I think I’ll go tomorrow after work. It’s supposed to rain all weekend and we have no plans, so it’s a good time to get it over with. I’m dreading it, because I hear the side effects are brutal – and even worse for the second shot 2-6 months later! I’ve had enough of feeling like crap (understatement of the year)!

Now that I’m no longer in active treatment and the cancer is gone, I can say I’m in remission. If it comes back, it’ll likely return within three years of diagnosis. There’s a 90+% chance it won’t come back. After 5 years, I’d be able to say I’m cured.

Over the next two years, I’ll see Dr. Brufsky every three months just to make sure everything is going ok. My next mammogram is six months after finishing radiation, so that will be early December. I asked if they’ll do an ultrasound with the mammogram given my diagnosis and dense breasts. Typically they don’t, but Madelyn said she’d check.

After two years, my visits will be every six months.

The ladies at the front desk were so excited to see me! The one who helped me schedule my next appointment said more than once how amazing I look. Frankly, anyone would look amazing after treatment!

I asked if Rosanne was working today so I could say hello, but she was off today.

This sign was on the check out counter – it’s so true.

I happen to be wearing the same top I wore the last time I posted a picture. So here’s an update! My curls are definitely poking their way through. My wavy sides can’t be controlled. Not quite in an awkward phase yet but getting there.

I have yet to try an apple to see if I can taste it, but will do that soon. I think I’ve been putting it off out of fear, haha.

A week from tomorrow will be my last day on the blood thinner. Yay!

My cancer wasn’t hormonal, so I don’t have to take medication for the next five years like many do.

Now the hardest part will be trying not to think about the odds and just living my life. And figuring out what tattoo I want to get to show that I’m a breast cancer survivor!