Pathology

There are so many words that come to mind when thinking about the behaviors of those battling cancer. Having had a front row seat to my father’s cancer, I’m familiar with some of the details that are involved with such an event. The approach to cancer obviously varies depending on the type of cancer being treated, but overall, there are specific words typically associated with the patient. Fighter. Survivor. When cancer was said to me, those were the farthest words from my mind.

Waiting. Deciding. Waiting again.

The surgery went well. The pathology report was said to take up to two weeks to publish. It was two weeks to the day. I got the report on Friday the 19^th of April. I read through it and from the mild comprehension I have reading medical reports, it didn’t take but a few minutes to recognize the importance of some of the words used. The biggest question I wanted out of the report was the condition of my lymph nodes. Those were the details that presented the necessity for chemotherapy or not.

When I read the first three lines of the report stating, Negative, I was instantly relieved. The lymph nodes were not removed but sampled. There was no indication of disease in the lymph nodes. The cells sampled from the newer tumors were in fact diseased. All that tissue was removed successfully and with clean margins. No need for radiation! What came next in the report was more surprising.

I elected to have a bilateral mastectomy. I had both breasts removed of their breast tissue. The left side was the malignant side. The right was not indicating any issue. No lumps or suspicious tissue. However, they biopsied all the tissue removed, including the non-cancerous right breast tissue. The choice to have a bilateral mastectomy was not encouraged by the doctors initially but today I was validated in spades. The right breast was on its way to being a problem. They removed a lot of precancerous tissue that had over a 25% chance of putting me through this all over again.

There are still appointments set over the next few weeks. I have an appointment with the oncologist in a couple weeks to make the next decisions regarding systematic treatment and whether it’s recommended or not. She is still working on the Oncotype of the tumors. This is a process that helps her figure out what kind of therapy to use to treat it. The oncology surgeon today told me he doesn’t believe there is a need for chemotherapy but likely hormone blocking therapy. More on that part in a later post (I’m not sure if I will take that path yet or not.).

The surgeon doesn’t feel like he needs to see me for six months from now to follow up and do some scans. I said to him that this was the fastest treatment of cancer ever! One major surgery and I’m on my merry way. He agreed with me and believed that we are in fact looking at that scenario. I’m not ready to say it until I have my appointment in two weeks, but to say I’m very optimistic would be an understatement. Gotta hold on to the real potential of a shoe dropping, because I am still Emma Stange.

The reconstruction side of this journey has barely begun. The new normal for the next few months is here and I’m adjusting to the way it feels. The expanders that I have for this process are NOT comfortable at all. The swelling has pretty much receded and now I’m looking at a very mutilated chest. If I didn’t know that this is temporary, the sight would bother me more than it does. It’s not causing me to flinch anymore, so that’s nice. The next appointment with the plastic surgery team will be nice. I should hear from them this week to schedule my first visit to expanding these things to help prepare for the final surgery.

There are not enough ways to express the complete gratitude I have for my family and friends. I had three separate friends and family come to my aide without asking. The first three weeks after surgery have been a rebirth of the most chaotic nature. I’m still in shock. I have said this all along, if there was a convenient time to go through a cancer battle, it was now. The people, the time, the emotional state, the monetary position, the spiritual foundation, the love, and the peace in my being are all components that continue to provide me breath. I have started writing thank you notes which will take me a bit to complete with my arms being weak. But I can’t wait to mail them out. Without the encouraging calls, texts, cards, and physical visits, this story would not sound like this.

Because I have a few more months of inconvenient steps to get me back to good, the boys are best set for success with their dad. This part has been the hardest. For the past couple of years, I have had them full time except for school breaks. It’s been me and them. I miss them so much it hurts. However, I know that I am not able to be who they need just yet. Giving me this time to heal and recover has forced me to change my attitude. Initially, it felt like a punishment to have to send them away. I have been working through that sentiment and will continue to do so until it doesn’t put a lump in my throat. They are happy and doing well. They are safe and loved. It’s not forever. Thank God for video calling.

My attitude is good. I’m off all the pain medication except for a muscle relaxer, which I’m nearing the end of that bottle. The pain is not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Don’t get me wrong, this shit doesn’t tickle. It’s not kicking me down as heavily as I anticipated. The next few months are going to be unpleasant, but I’ll take these over months of chemo and/or radiation any day. At the end of this journey is a long weekend vacation in Key West with my name all over it. For those of you who said, “Cancer picked the wrong one,” you were right.