Breast Cancer Journey - Part Six

On Friday night after meeting with the surgeon, I sat up way too late reading a woman's blog about her cancer journey.  So many of her thoughts paralleled mine, including what I
wanted to do Saturday morning..pull a blanket over my head and retreat from the world. Thankfully, friends and family didn't let me do that for long.

After my crazy declaration at the surgeon's office concerning double mastectomy instead of lumpectomy, I admitted to myself and God that my sudden decision was based totally on fear of the future, financial concerns, and my desire to maintain some "control" of the situation.  Even before Dr. W. called saying she felt I could be safely monitored post-surgery with tomosynthesis and ultrasound, and only use MRI when absolutely necessary, I had already decided to proceed with her recommendation of breast-conserving surgery, followed by radiation, and possibly hormone therapy. God alone is in control of my life and destiny.  I am not my own; I was bought with a price. A GREAT PRICE!  I will follow Jesus all the days of my life; however long that is.  I  choose to trust Him for all outcomes.  God's Word gives me peace and comfort for what is yet to come.

"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have One who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet He did not sin.  Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." - Hebrews 4:14-16

"He will cover you with His feathers.  He will shelter you with His wings.  His faithful promises are your armor and protection." - Psalm 91:4

"Be gracious to me, O God, be gracious to me, for my soul takes refuge in You; And in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge until destruction passes by." - Psalm 57:1

I daydreamed about the ocean that day.  I really don't know of another place that seems to calm my soul like the sea.  While it's personality seems to change each time I see it, it still speaks to me.  I could sit for hours listening and watching the waves.  I decided when surgery and radiation treatments were finished---that's where I wanted to be.

I had no idea what to expect at Tuesday's hospital pre-op appointment.  My dear brother took me to breakfast and went with me.  (Have I mentioned what awesome family and friends I have?) I met with a man who went over my demographic information, took my ID, insurance card, and palm-scanned me. My thought on the palm scans...seriously, did they think someone was going to show up for surgery in my place?  Hey, I would let them, but don't think I'd find many takers...although my brother did say he would go through this for me, if he could!

I was sent from there to see the pre-op screening team. The hospital screening nurse was so sweet.  She had two young children, so we discussed kids and grandkids while she took my blood pressure, temperature, and EKG.  I told her about my blood draw phobia, so she used a butterfly needle (very small) to get blood for testing.  She promised the anesthesia team for surgery would take good care of me.  I was in and out in less than an hour.

Wednesday was my only free day with no medical appointments scheduled.  My west-coast son and two oldest grandkids entertained me for the day.  We went to one of my favorite antique malls, had lunch at a Mexican restaurant, made a stop at Toys-R-Us for the kids, and The Guitar Center for my big kid, then Sam's Club, a used bookstore, and Maggie Moo's for ice cream.  All in all a great day without the stress of appointments and..THINKING.

Thursday was Radiation Therapy appointment day.  My best friend and I spent the morning shopping at our favorite craft store, then had lunch at a Chinese buffet. She went with me to my appointment as "designated note-taker and question-asker", especially after my question list for the surgeon stayed folded, unread, during that session.  She's much more organized than me, and definitely takes neater, better notes.

Forms, forms, forms.  I am so sick of filling out forms, and being asked for the same information over and over again.  How many times do I have to repeat...I have no drug allergies, no gallbladder, and no history of cancer in my family?

First I met with a nurse who took all of my vitals.  Yes!  No blood taken that day.  I then met with the doctor who asked lots of questions, checked me over--reflexes, eyes, throat, joints, and breathing.  My friend stepped out while I underwent yet another breast exam.  After a month of repeated exams, modesty gets tossed out the window.  Dr. M. said near the end of radiation, I would most likely be referred to an oncologist for followup, and at that time I will decide on hormone-suppressing medication.  There are side effects and some women decide not to take them.  I wanted to discuss this with friends who've had cancer and research the subject on my own, so that I could make an informed decision.

My friend asked about creams to lessen the radiation "burn".  He said they could suggest some once I started my treatments--which would probably begin 3-8 weeks after surgery. He said the standard number of treatments was 33, six and a half weeks of daily radiation, Monday through Friday.  Wow!!  The thought was daunting, but I knew I could do it.

Our pastor came to our house about 7:30 p.m. the night before surgery to pray with us.  I knew I would rather he do so the night before, rather than at the hospital when I would be more emotional. I think I was as mentally and spiritually prepared for surgery as possible, when a text from our son was received.  Our friend, who was also our former pastor and daughter-in-law's father had fallen and was hospitalized in a coma.

Oh how quickly our lives can change!  It is such a blessing we cannot see the future.  I went to sleep Thursday night earnestly praying for Bradley, and that my hospital's finest IV nurse was an early-riser and would be there for me in the morning.

Copyright 2015 Charlotte Laney

Breast Cancer Journey - (Part Five)

When Dr. K. called mid-May with my diagnosis of Ductal Carcinoma In Situ, his words of advice, "Avoid Internet research".  What????  Anyone who knows me knows I am the Queen of Google!  Little did he know since day one, I spent hours reading the major breast cancer sites and a few personal blogs.  If not, I wouldn't have had a clue what DCIS was, or that it is the breast cancer with the highest "recovery" rate. Why should I have known...there is no history of breast cancer in my family? But, after his warning, I did try.  

In the interim of waiting, I had sleepless nights, and days when I just wanted to pull a blanket over my head and cry the day away. I found it difficult to make choices (or even think clearly about anything).  I love reading novels, but it seemed ADD had taken over my brain, and I couldn't concentrate to get through one page. I was hyper-emotional about everything, which is not my norm. I felt adrift, somewhere between diagnosis and knowing what comes next.  Were these feelings indicative of a lack of faith?  No, God made me, and he understands my human limitations. 

Diversions are a wonderful thing in the times of WAITING. My favorite diversions are my grandchildren.  My nine year old west-coast granddaughter was home.  On Sunday night after Friday's diagnosis, she pulled out a children's poetry book at bedtime. She recalled we read from it last summer just before they moved over 3,000 miles away. On that long ago night, when the lump in my throat became too large, I told her that she would have to read. I remember tears sneaking out of my eyes, and she reached up and wiped them away.  But this year I did better and kept the tears at bay. We had fun reading in Scottish and British "southern" accents.  Oh how I love that girl!  If only my mom could have had the chance to meet and love on her.  She loved reading and poetry, and they definitely would have been kindred spirits.

From my experience, the knee-jerk response to a cancer diagnosis is...GET IT OUT NOW! Your brain tells you that every day it is growing and spreading. I could have taken time to poll all my friends and interview surgeons until I found the "perfect one".  But I didn't.  I wanted to go forward as quickly as possible, even though I now realize it wasn't necessary. I trust Dr. K., the radiologist who performed my biopsy; he recommended Dr. W. and made the appointment for surgery consultation for the next Friday.

During that week my pastor, a very wise man, prayed with me and asked me to decide how much involvement I wanted from him in the process.  Friends reached out with words of encouragement and prayers for clarity and peace.  

I spent the morning of my surgical consultation reading Bible verses meaningful to where I was emotionally.  As a part of the Internet research (I was supposed to be avoiding), it was suggested to make a list of questions to take to the surgery consultation.  I made a nice long list.

My husband went with me to the appointment around midday.  Dr. W. and her staff were wonderful.  Yes, there were tons of financial, privacy, and medical forms to fill out...which I had already completed at the mammography, MRI, and biopsy clinics. You would think since all these physicians and offices are in the same medical network, they could link their information!  Dr. W. performed a clinical breast exam and asked lots of questions, and she was very patient in answering mine.  Oh yeah...remember that long list of questions I made? Well..it stayed folded on top of my purse on the other side of the exam room!  

Attempting to absorb the information regarding breast-conserving surgery, radiation, hormone therapy, and long term follow-up screenings, I had a sudden overwhelming dread of the future and I panicked.  Out of nowhere came the thought, and then I said it out loud.  "I don't want to deal with this again.  I think I want to have a double mastectomy and reconstruction and be done." 

Wow!  I'm sure my husband and surgeon were shocked by that declaration.  They probably looked at me like I had two heads!  Dr. W. calmly said, "Let's go ahead and set up the lumpectomy. I will talk to your radiologist about future screenings.  We can always cancel if you decide on the more extensive surgery. You can think about it for a few days."  

I walked out of her office on Friday afternoon with a pre-op hospital appointment on Tuesday, a radiation therapy consultation on Thursday, and surgery scheduled for Friday. Life just got too real!  

Copyright 2015 Laney's Musings 

Breast Cancer Journey - (Part Four)

In the midst of a quest for diagnosis and treatment of any major illness you can either suffer in silence, or allow others to share in your journey.  I admit, I struggled with this one.  How much information do you share, and with whom do you share it?  In the beginning, I was conflicted, thinking tests will probably prove this to be nothing; I will have worried them needlessly. From the onset, sharing with my husband was a given; my best friend also knew everything from day one.  (You are extremely blessed if you have at least ONE true friend). Sharing my fears and concerns with others came slower.

Did I pray?  Of course. God is the only one with whom I could share ANYTHING and EVERYTHING and be TOTALLY understood.  Yet, when life doesn't make sense, and you are having the worst day of your life, God gives brothers and sisters-in-Christ the awesome privilege to be arm-lifters, prayer-speakers, and grief-sharers.  Word spread from family members and friends, to our church family..then to their circle of influence..people thousands of miles away that I may never meet. What a wonderful comfort to truly "feel" the prayers of others on your behalf!

Over the spring and summer months, it became a challenge to schedule LIFE around my medical appointment calendar!  Decisions were so much easier when someone else made them all for me. I might not have liked their choice, but at least if it didn't turn out well, I could blame someone besides myself.  I tried to put life into perspective with the thought, "My happiest day is someone's saddest; and my saddest is someone's happiest".

In situations of turmoil, peace of mind can be high-jacked and replaced with mood swings, muddled thoughts, and the inability to make even the simplest decision.  My first Sunday at church following diagnosis was emotional. Explaining my diagnosis to our bible study class members was hard.  I was encouraged by three women who confided they have had breast cancer.  I think I cried through every song. Anyone who didn't know my situation was probably wondering what's wrong with that crazy hand-lifting woman?  "No sickness, no secret, no chain is strong enough...to keep us from your love, to keep us from your love. How high, how wide; no matter where I am, healing is in Your hands.  How deep, how strong; now by your grace I stand; Healing is in Your hands."  (From Christy Nockels, Healing Is In Your Hands)

When you feel your life is out of control, stop and make a conscious effort to let God speak peace over your life and situation through prayer, His Word, His people, music, and poetry.  There are times when we need to be alone, and times when we need to be with people.  Take time to "be still and know that He is God"...that He is still in control of your life and circumstances..although it may not seem so at the moment.  

Let these words sink into your very soul.  “When I think of the wisdom and scope of God’s plan, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will give you mighty inner strength through his Holy Spirit. And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him. May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love really is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God” (Ephesians 3:14–19, NLT).

After surgery, I found a line in the beautiful poem, "Jesus of the Scars" - by Edward Shillito (1872-1948). He was a Free Church minister in England during World War I.  My favorite line, so appropriate for a woman who has had body-altering surgery..."But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak, and not a god has wounds, but You alone". 

One of the most meaningful notes of encouragement I received came from an Alabama cousin. Her mom lost the battle against breast cancer a few years ago.  She assured us she was praying for me, my husband, my family, and "for a successful surgery, for trustworthy doctors who love the Lord and know what is best for you and your body, for comfort in the coming days as you mourn for what you no longer have, for strength throughout your treatment process."  

I still tear up when I read those words, dear Deana.  All "over-comers" and "warriors" of diseases, disorders, injuries, loneliness, tragedies, sadness, broken relationships, the loss of those we love, and for a myriad other reasons...we do mourn for what we no longer have. 

"Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." - Matthew 11:28  He still says...COME.

Copyright 2015 Laney's Musings

Breast Cancer Journey - (Part Three)

Biopsy...that is such a scary word, is it not?  We all associate that word with the dreaded "C"...cancer.  In my 60-plus years, I have had a few, most while asleep; but I was
wide-awake, staring at the ultrasound screen for the one I had May.

From my personal journal:  "Today was "B Day"...biopsy.  Traffic was light, so we got to the 1-Day Surgery area early.  At 7:30 in the morning, the surgery lobby was already filled with people either waiting for their surgery, or family members waiting for their loved ones.  When you feel alone in your struggles...look around you!  There are so many hurting people!"

Dr. K. was to perform an ultrasound-guided biopsy...with two Amys attending.  They explained the entire process beforehand, and the "whys".  When there is a nodule or lump, biopsy is the only way to rule out or confirm cancer.

I think there are two ways people approach medical concerns.  There is the researcher-type who wants to know everything there is to know; and then there is the ostrich-type who out of fear wants to know NOTHING.  I am a researcher when it comes to myself, but a bit of an ostrich when it comes to those closest to me that I love dearly.

I did my research and watched a needle-core biopsy online, so I knew what to expect.  The numbing shot was supposed to feel like a bee sting.  Dr. K. told me to say "Ow, ow, ow!"  He inserted the needle in several places and numbness occurred quite quickly. Most of what I could feel was pressure, pushing, and tugging sensations.

Dr. K. used ultrasound to locate the nodule and had one of the Amys measure it and take screen shots. I watched the entire procedure.  A wire was inserted through a tiny breast incision and the needle through that.  The hollow needle was inserted into the nodule, and a popping sound, similar to stapling papers, occurred when the tissue was cut and harvested for biopsy.  From the online video I watched, the samples are spaghetti-like pieces of tissue. Dr. K. harvested about four samples.

After the samples were taken, a small titanium marker or clip was inserted through the wire to the biopsy site.  I was told that "if" I needed further surgery, or for future breast scans, the clip would indicate the biopsied area.  Once the procedure was over, one of the two Amys took me to a small exam room and did a few mammogram scans.

Immediately afterward, I was sent around the block to the Breast Center where I had my first MRI.  I had "another" mammogram and a short (maybe five minute) MRI to make sure the biopsy and clip were in the right place.  I was sent home with an ice bag and a small compression bandage to be removed 24 hours post-biopsy, and surgery strips to remain in place for five days.  No aspirin or ibuprofen could be taken for a few days; but Tylenol instead for pain.

It was two days later when I received the dreaded phone call that I had breast cancer.  Dr. K. made the phone call himself instead of delegating it to an assistant, which I felt was a kind gesture.  I am sure he performs and reads hundreds, if not thousands, of pathology reports, yet he took the time to call me and put the wheels in motion for the next step....surgery.


Copyright 2015 Laney's Musings

Breast Cancer Journey (Part Two)

Most women past the age of forty have experienced a mammogram.  For the uninitiated, it's kind of like being run over by a steam roller that backs up and runs you over again from another direction. That's why I call the Breast Center the Booby Garage.  But, if being run over once a year saves your life...it's worth it.

The second step in my breast cancer journey, following mammogram and ultrasound, was an MRI.  While I really don't like tight spaces, I survived a previous MRI without a problem, so I really wasn't too concerned about the process.  To be honest, I was way more fearful of the IV needle used for injecting contrast solution.  I am a "hard stick" and two techs spent about ten minutes inspecting both arms from above my elbows to the tops of wrists before finding one good vein.  Remember where your best veins are...for future reference!

The MRI was completed in two parts: first without contrast, then with contrast. You are placed face down on a table, with open spaces for both breasts, arms stretched out above your head.  I was given a small bulb to hold so that if I panicked at any time, I could squeeze it to stop the procedure.  But I was warned if I halted the procedure during the contrast portion, I would have to return another day to complete it ...which I definitely did not want to do!  I wonder...if I had squeezed the bulb, would they have really stopped...or was it just a psychological crutch?  Either way, it felt pretty good to feel I had some measure of control.

MRI machines are extremely loud, so I was given earplugs.  I could still hear the technicians instructions, and the roar of the machine, so I felt they were pretty useless. I went into the "tube" head-first.  The technician gave instructions throughout the 20-30 minute session, with a few pauses throughout to take a big breath before moving on.  To me, it felt longer than 30 minutes.

How did I pass time in the MRI tube?  I found myself singing the children's song, Jesus Loves Me, and quoting verses to myself like "What time I am afraid, I will trust in You."  I prayed for friends who were having medical issues, particularly a little girl who was in critical condition at a hospital in Columbus, Ohio.

Job 42:10 says, "And Jehovah turned the captivity of Job when he prayed for his friends." The best way to shake yourself out of a pity party is to stop focusing on yourself, be thankful, and pray for others.  Hey Laney...that's pretty good advice!

By far the hardest part of getting to a breast cancer diagnosis was WAITING. While my MRI was performed in the morning, the radiologist did not begin the process of reading the day's screenings until about 1:30 p.m.   Sadly, there was a lobby full of middle-aged and older women, just like me, so I was warned that getting "the phone call" could take up to 48 hours.

I guess I was expecting hoping for a definitive diagnosis following the MRI, but when the radiologist called at 4:30 the same day...she just said she felt a biopsy was needed, and would be scheduling mine for the next week.  She tried to encourage me with the fact that 80 percent of breast lump biopsies prove to be benign...but in my gut, I already knew mine was not.


Copyright 2015 Laney's Musings

One In Eight - Breast Cancer Journey (Part One)

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month...the Pink Storm.  If there is ever a time to be transparent about my journey, I guess this is it. I have avoided blogging since life kind of turned upside down for me in April, when what I thought would be a routine screening mammogram turned into much more.



First of all, an I AM STUPID admission! I waited two and a half years between mammograms.  I had the "I'll show you" mentality of skipping mammos because my insurance company does not (and I doubt yours does either) cover diagnostic mammograms.  

If you fell for the Obamacare promise of free mammograms for all women (insert sarcastic laugh here), there is a loophole for insurance companies.  Only very basic screening mammograms are fully covered without co-pay or deductible.  So, if you have dense tissue..which many women have, you probably require diagnostic mammograms.  Dense tissue appears white on mammograms...as does cancer, making screenings more difficult to identify (or rule out) cancer.  

Did you know women with high breast density are four to five times more likely to get breast cancer than women with low breast density?  Why did I not know that?  Since that is a fact, wouldn't you think that insurance companies would make diagnostic screenings for women who are at higher risk free, as well?  Okay...enough with that rant!

I might have continued with my one-woman crusade had not my family physician strongly recommended I have one.  I specifically requested the free "screening mammo" instead of my normal diagnostic one...knowing full well I'd get a call back for more views. But, God was in control and apparently the Breast Center didn't get the memo.  On April 29th I had a diagnostic mammogram and a 3-D mammogram.  The radiologist was in-house to read them...more views ensued.  I became anxious when told there was an area they wanted to look at more closely with ultrasound.  

The radiologist told me there was an "indeterminable nodule" in my left breast which he recommended for further investigation.  Of course, no one ever used the "C" word.  One week later, May 6, I am having an MRI.  I received a phone call that afternoon from the radiologist who read my MRI.  She told me that a biopsy was needed; and it was scheduled for the next week on May 13.  

The “1 in 8” Sorority – May, 2015

At 12:40 on Friday, May 15, 2015, I received the phone call I was dreading.  Dr. K., my radiologist, called to see how I was doing two days post-biopsy.  I told him “fine, no problems today; a little sore, but no visible bruising.”  His next words were chilling, but not really unexpected.  My pathology report was “positive”.  The good news, he said, (is there good news when you’ve just been told you have cancer?) --the biopsied cells were “ductal carcinoma in situ”, meaning in the original place of origin, non-invasive.  And, yes, that is a very good thing! 

After a two weeks and two days initiation process, I was inducted into the “1 in 8 Sorority”--just like that! 

Copyright 2015

Laney's Musings