After my last biopsy, I was waiting to see the oncology surgeon that my GP had referred me to.
Firstly it's so scary to be referred to any doctor that deals with cancer and oncology treatments. I could only imagine that my doctor was expecting the worst and it was really hard to not expect the worst for myself.
I filled alot of sleepless nights with research because I cannot help myself. I read everything I possibly could about breast lumps, about the process of events that I have been through and am still going through and also about what I might have to expect next.
I know it's not a good habit to get into, reading online about medical problems and I don't reccomend it, but I did find a few interesting facts;
1) 80% of all biopsied breast lumps are benign. This statistic was incredibly helpful for me while trying to keep my head on straight. I clung to this statistic very tight.
2) The left breast is 5-10% more likely to develop breast cancer than the right. A little less encouraging. Both of my suspicious lumps have now been in my left breast.
3) Having a history of benign lumps can increase your risk of developing breast cancer later in life. This is why my doctor always wanted me to follow up on my first lump, even though the biopsy result came back benign.
I dove through any information I could find, I looked at all types of breast ultrasound pictures and mammogram images. I wasn't trying to diagnose myself or anything like that, I was really just trying to understand and see what was so worrying or suspicious about my scans.
Finally, it was time to see the oncology surgeon.
I was really neive as I entered his office, expecting a simple, "No, you don't have cancer" or at worse a "Yes, but here's what we're going to do".
Instead, I answered about a thousand questions about my life, my family, my health, my families health and pretty much everything just short of when did I last blow my nose and what did I have for breakfast, which I probably would have been in trouble for because I don't eat breakfast.
It was the most thorough history of myself that I had ever had to give. And shamefully I didn't even know how to answer some of the questions that the doctor asked me.
The specialist asked me to take the top half of my clothes off, for a breast exam. This is becoming the new normal at appointments for myself. He compared the size and shape of both my breasts. Pushed and pressed in places and also showed me the best way to examine myself. He said that he doesn't need me to be an expert in breasts but he would like for me to become an expert on my own breasts.
I got dressed and he put my mammogram images up on the xray viewer. He pointed out some spots to me and in a very monotone manner spoke to me about a star shaped area that appeared bright. When we finally sat back down, I truly thought he was going to say that there was nothing wrong and that he didn't think it was suspicious at all.
But then he handed me some papers and started talking about further tests that I need. Somehow my last biopsy hadn't told them everything that they needed to know. He then directed me to drive straight from the appointment, to the Mater Hospital aka; the cancer hospital to drop off the new test referral for myself in person.
After that, it was more waiting. I was waiting again for a call and an appointment so that my breast could be jabbed again.
Out of everything so far, the waiting has been the worst part. Trying to stay positive, yet being so anxious about the unknown.
I would lay awake at night and worry not about myself, but about my son. I would worry that if I were to get really sick or have to go through treatments, that he'd have to see it and see me like that. I would worry that there could be a really long time when I might not be able to give him my all and how that might effect him. And then the worst thoughts of all, I'm almost ashamed to say that I would lay awake and worry about what my sons life could be like, if I were to die.
Then I would lay there going around in circles in my mind from those feelings, to then feeling guilty about having these worries, when I know that right now there are people going through much worse than me and how dramatic am I to be sitting here worrying about what I'm going through at this moment and not knowing anything for sure.
The waiting is mentally exhausting. I have had so many anxiety attacks in the past few weeks and have been left feeling drained.
Today it was time for my next procedure. This time it was a vacuum assisted core biopsy that had to be performed. Multiple samples were to be collected through a 10 gauge needle, using a machine that sucks up cells and bits of tissue into a little canister for collection.
The nurse was so nice and talked me through everything that the doctor was doing as it happened. The local numbed the area for the most part. I couldn't feel the small incision that was made in my skin, but I felt the needle pop through the muscle layer. There was some pressure and the feeling of tearing inside, while the vacuum was running, but it was all bearable pain. All up the biopsy took around fifteen minutes to be complete.
I actually felt worse for my Mum, who was standing in the corner looking like she could pass out at any moment. At one point I had to break the silence and tell her to take a seat. The poor thing, she's such a good sport coming with me even though her biggest fears are; needles and blood. And here I was with an epic size needle deep in my breast tissue and a small quantity of blood oozing onto the surgical drape and the white gown that I was wearing.
Once a sufficient amount of sample had been collected, the doctor decided to place what they call a 'clip' into the area that they had sampled, it's a small, piece of metal placed into the breast tissue, just to be used as a land mark for any future scans. Basically, I've been mircrochipped. The nurse cleaned me up and popped a dressing on the incision site.
I was happy that the invasive part was over, but then the nurse led me down a hallway to another room for another mammogram. By this point it's fair to say I'm getting over people touching my boobs.
The very tender and already bruised area was jammed and manipulated into the mammography machine to take two new images. Again, I felt guilty for feeling 'over it'. I'm so lucky to have everyone doing their very best for me and helping me to get the answers that I need.
I'm done now for today. Bleeding a little, bruised a bit and doing my best to avoid any movement on the upper left side of my body. I can feel the local anaesthetic wearing off too but all I care about is finally getting an answer.
I'm feeling confident that I just had to do all of this to rule out anything that could potentially be or become nasty, but I'm also back to the waiting game for now and it will be another long few weeks before I see the specialist again. Yet, in saying that; waiting is also good news because if it were bad news I would be contacted sooner, for sure.
Again, I can't stress enough to anyone that might be reading this to follow up on anything that doesn't feel right to you. Your health is so important, at the end of the day nothing else matters. Always put your health first.
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