Lets Play the Why Me and What If Game

Everyone has played the Why Me, What If game, probably many times in their lives.  Lord know I have.  Boy does the nasty C word put all of those in the past into perspective huh....

I'm now 24 hours away from the biggest "bump" of my life thus far.  Sleep eludes me now.  I'm exhausted but there's no sleep to be found.  Instead I play the game, over and over and over....

First there's the Why Me's....  Why did I get this.  Why Me.  What did I do to deserve this.  For the last month and a half these words been screaming in my head over and over and now it is so loud there's not much of anything left in my head but this.

Secondly, of course you have to answer the above questions with your crazy overthought brain right.  So on to the What Ifs....

What if I'd ate healthier, more veggies, less sweets, cut the booze, what if.  But then I read other ladie's posts on my cancer support pages.  Some of these ladies ate low fat, low carb, organic, no taste, no smell food and they still are on that page along with me playing Why Me.

What if I'd exercised more, stayed in the gym last year instead of being a big ole fat quitter.  Again same ladies from above, in the gym 5 days a week, workout nazzi's, if you will, and yep there they are right on that same page playing the game.

What if I'd gone to church more (again big ole lazy quitter).  As a child and teenager there was not a Sunday or Wednesday that I wasn't there.  How did I get so far removed.  Probably something for a therapy session or another post.  But yep... you guessed it, on that page there are Godly faithful women.

What if I'd been nicer to people.  Lord knows I try, but sometimes I'm just a catty mean girl.  I really think we all are.  I mean we are females.  We're all cut from the same mold.  When we are with our friends we are catty.  You can deny it, but you know it's true.  But... what if...  did being catty make me get cancer?  See this is how an insane person's brain works...  haha!

What if I'd not gained so much weight, gotten "obese".  Yes, obese...  this is the term that is on my medical chart for my weight.  Now granted folks I'm not skinny, I am a tad big overweight, and yes the budda belly needs to go, but I am 5'6" and wear a 12 size pants, if this is obese, what is the term for the folks heavier than me.

Anyways, I digress....  Yes, what if, why me.  Well only the good Lord above knows this answer obviously, as there are women of every faith, religion, color, nationality, country, vegan, non-vegan, workout nazzi, lazy asses all dealing with this terrible thing and each and every one of them, I have no doubt at all, have played the Why Me, What If game.  And everyone has different answers.

Maybe mine was to make me pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together, to realize what is important and love my life.  I was spiraling out of control pretty good before the nasty C word phone call.  Maybe it's meant to walk me down a path I have not yet seen.  Maybe it will introduce me to some new wonderful people that are needing a Kristy Lee in their life  LOL.  Everyone needs a Kristy Lee, right haha!

Whatever the reason may be, in 24 hours I'm going to put on my big girl panties, roll my "obese" ass to the hospital and let the new "normal" begin, and pray to the good Lord that this C word leaves my body 100%.  Whatever the new normal may be, I do not know yet, but I do know for sure that my life will be forever changed when I return home Sunday.

IF IT'S ON THE CALENDAR IT'S HAPPENING.....

Back to the surgeon yesterday to discuss how we are going to proceed.  Check in.... $20 bucks.....
I finally, for the first time, actually said the words, "let's do the double mastectomy, and I don't want reconstruction".  I felt like the words were coming from somewhere else and not out of my mouth, but here I was and this is what I was saying.  One month ago I would have never guessed this is where I would be, but alas it is.

We chatted some more, and I asked lots of questions.  Asked her where the cuts would be and how it would be done....  Boy I sure wish I hadn't done that haha!  I'll spare you the details.  It's not pretty.

Then we discussed another possible glitch, but I'm not even sharing that right now.  I don't want to jinx myself and I'm just going to have faith that there is nothing to that conversation that we just had.

She then gave me another choice regarding the surgery.  I could have a nerve block in my neck before the operation.  It would help with pain management maybe even for a couple of days after surgery.  It's kind of like having an epidural when you have a baby.  Of course I didn't have one.  Remember, the massive needle phobia.  Yeah, I'd rather have the labor pains.  I actually had no meds at all when I had my son.  It wasn't that bad.  Needle in back, now that would have been bad.  Yeah see, I'm neurotic about this needle thing.  So I asked her if I would already be under when they do the block.  Um, yeah no, she said it would be similar to the wire in the boob scenario (read prior post ... surgery).  Awake and needle in neck, doesn't sound like much fun.  I know it will possibly make the pain better and I know I need to say yes, but between now and then I will have to get the courage to pull the trigger on that one.  I know.. sounds absolutely insane, yeah go ahead and cut my boobs off, but a needle in neck to make my pain better, I'm just not sure about that...  #crazychick.

So then she said, well let's get the calendar in here and get this thing booked.  Or I could just run out right now and never come back haha!  No such luck, calendar is here and first open date is
January 26.  So that's it, I will be saying adios to my ta tas on January 26, 2018.  But more importantly, and hopefully, I will be saying good riddance to the terrible C word for the last time, if the fates see fit to allow me to continue live this wonderful, crazy, awful, beautiful life of mine!!

DECISIONS, DECISIONS, DECISIONS...

Well here I am....  heading back to work tomorrow after being off since my lumpectomy.  I have an appointment with my breast surgeon Tuesday.

I have made my decision I think, maybe, probably...  But yeah more than likely Tuesday I will be scheduling a double mastectomy.  I have also made another decision that I know most people will not understand, but I am choosing to not have reconstruction.   This process is stressful enough for me and the reconstruction process is grueling, terrifying, painful, and involves up to as many as 9-10 surgeries.  There is a huge risk of infection.  And then if your body doesn't reject them they usually do not look even close to real and most of the women in the chat rooms say they are so uncomfortable.

So I am choosing to go flat.  Be boobless.  These things do not define me.  Hell they could have killed me!!! And unfortunately for me that will always be a possibility due to this BRCA2 gene, but at least I can say, after these surgeries, I did all I could to try to get rid of it!!  And then spend the rest of my life praying that I did enough and that it doesn't come back!

A lot of people have said, hey it's alright, you get to have a boob job on the insurance company.  But for those who aren't familiar it's not a regular boob job.  It's a painful, awful, round of surgeries, that may, in the end, not even work because of infections, rejections etc.  Your breast tissue is completely removed.  They have to build new ones from scratch from fat, skin, implants etc.  And you have zero feeling in them as well.

And a boob job is a person's choice to have done; I have no choice...  Cancer and genetics made the choice for me.  I like my boobs.  I wish I could keep them.  I think most mastectomy folks probably feel this way.

So I am going to suck it up and put on my big girl panties and do the right thing even though I really do not want to.

So if you see me out and about and I'm not quite the bubbly, bouncy, cheery, smiling person you normally know, I may be having a rough day.  Remember it has nothing do to with you if I snap at you.  I'll be adjusting to a new me and a new way of life.

GLITCHES ARE BITCHES!

December 28, 2017, Post Op Follow Up with my surgeon today.   I have spent the last two days in every BRCA chat room I could possibly find on the internet.  Trying to figure out what to do before this appointment.  I have just about decided to still stick with the original plan and monitor closely.  But go ahead with the ovary and fallopian tube removal.  Heck I don't ned that stuff any more and it is suspected that my iron issues are the cause of the monthly hex anyways... we'll kill two birds with one stone this way.  Okay we have a plan.  Let's go see our doctor and make sure those nodes are negative!!!

Check into the office; pay my $20.  Back to the room.  Doc comes into the room.  Nodes are clear!  Nodes are clear!  OMG yay!  Nodes are clear!  But..........

Glitch #3....  seriously.... ugh....  "we didn't clear margins, we didn't get it all, it was way bigger than what shows up on the mammogram".  With the lobular portion of this cancer it can hide and not know it's there until you go in to get it.  Now there will have to be a second surgery to go back in to try to get it all this time.  But there's also the BRCA2 discussion that is still on the table.  I tell her what my plan was prior to walking in today and finding this out.  Now we have to go back to considering mastectomy again.  This shit could be hiding anywhere in my boobs.  Do I really want to take that risk??  Probably not.  But I just couldn't make myself commit to it... not yet.  Doc says I can think about it for a week or so.  She's going to send me to a Gyno to discuss the other surgery and we'll talk again after that appointment.  Out the door and on my way to try to figure out WTF I was going to do.    This BRCA2 is a BIACH!!

Gyno appointment a few days later.  $20 Bucks....LOL  Appointment not really a big deal.  I figured he would tell me I would probably just need to go ahead and have the full hysterectomy with my bleeding and anemic problems so I was prepared for it when that is what he said.  He said he would get with my surgeon and we can figure out when to schedule for surgery.  Out I go....  well that was easy  haha...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

Well I made it out alive.  I don't remember much at all about post op or getting home or really anything at all about the rest of surgery day after I got my happy medicine in my IV.  I woke up day after surgery pretty sore, still kind of out of it and sleeping in a bra.  What, seriously?  For those of you that know me well know that I hate bras, despise them in fact.  They are the first thing off when I walk in the door from work.  I rarely even put one on during the weekends... even if we're going somewhere.  I made up NBS (no bra Sunday).  I think my fiancé actually thought it was a thing.  LOL

Now on to checking this thing out that seems to be hurting me under my left arm.  Yep there it is... think I might puke.  A beautiful 3 inch incision that is red and angry and gross.  Yep won't be looking at this thing again for a while.  Gross!!  I do not do well with anything medical.  Cuts, scratches, blisters, splinters, etc. etc. all make me nauseous.  I know I know... suck it up buttercup it's about to get really really gross soon and I'm just going to have to deal with it.  But... for now... it's GROSS!

God love the pain pill invention.  I floated through the Christmas holiday without a care in the world. Yay drugs!  Usually Christmas stresses me out to the max.  Not this year haha!  #silverlining

Then CAT scan day was here... damn I'd almost forgot about that...  first at home you get to drink a F ton of this nasty shit.  Barely choked it down without throwing up.  But hey, I'm a rock star!  I did it!  LOL  Then checked back into the cancer center, paid my $20 bucks.  Then this lovely (this is said very sarcastically) male CT scan guy came to get me.  I ask if my fiancé can come too because I know what is about to happen....  needle in arm...  but nope he is told to stay put.  Panic ensues immediately.  I proceed to tell this douce bag about my major needle phobia.  Yeah he doesn't care, grabs my arm and begins the poking around.  Mind you I've told the lovely uncaring specimen that I just had surgery on Friday and that was where the IV was.  He didn't seem to care and kept digging.  Finally Mr. Douce Bag decided I was right and he would remove it and start over.  Lucky me!  Finally found a vein and got it in.  I was crying by now.  Mr. awesome bedside manner dude didn't give a rats ass... he just wanted to get this done...  shot some dye into my IV....  Began to feel like I was pissing myself  (yes this is a normal thing that happens with CAT scans.. who knew) while the machine slid back and forth taking the pictures.  Finally was done and Mr. douche bag takes the IV out and sends me on down the hall to waiting room B, so I can visit with my oncologist about the CAT scan and the post op from surgery; we will also visit about the terrible awful genetic testing results and what I am going to do.

Doc comes in.  Thank God the CAT scan looks clear; nothing weird looking.  Whew that's a relief! Now we have to talk about options.  Of course he recommends the double mastectomy with removal of ovaries and fallopian tubes.  But says it is small; we caught it early; we can do the radiation and put me on an every 6 months watch if I prefer.  I've spent the last few days in denial; googling everything I could find, reading chat rooms of women who have this mutation as well.  I was leaning towards just going ahead with our normal plan and adding the 6 month monitoring.  But I didn't know for sure... terrified, I almost had a break down this day in the office.  But this chick does not cry!  Especially in front of people.  So I sucked it up and smiled and my oncologist hugged me and told me it would be okay.  I think he realized I was on the verge of mental breakdown in his office.

My follow up with my surgeon would be two days later; I will know the status of my nodes then.  He told me to wait and find out about this before we make any life altering decisions.  Out the door I go, on another waiting adventure....  tick tock tick tock....

SURGERY DAY

December 22, 2017, surgery day is here.  Two days ago I was excited to get this done and over with and on with my life.  But today, now this is just the first of probably many surgeries and needles and tests and anxiety attacks in my future.  But here we are, let's at least get this one out of me ASAP.

Check in at the surgery center.  Girl behind the desk says "oh you're one of the special ones".  LOL oh yeah I'm special, you have no idea, I'm thinking.  Ha joke was on me.  I "got" to go into the boob squishing room first.  I was confused.  No one had told me about the fun pre-op routine for my procedure.  Probably a good thing.

Into a chair, wheel me up to a mammogram machine.  Flop my "bad" boob into the machine.  Proceed to squish, which feels great since I was still sore from my biopsy.  Then in with the needle to numb the area again.  Remember prior post ....  Needle in Boob = HURT!  Yep still does.  They tell me not to look and proceed to insert a long wire into my boob to help my surgeon locate the bad spot easier.  So now I'm sitting in the chair with wire sticking out of my boob, almost poking me in my face in my beautiful gown.

Next stop.  New room.  I get to lay down this time.  woo hoo.   Gonna shoot some dye into my boob.  Yep you guessed it, another needle in the boob.  Oh yeah, I know you're jealous now!  LOL  Shoot the dye in and run me through the machine.  This machine and dye helps to locate the lymph nodes that, if the cancer was going to spread, would go to first.  The dye went to four nodes.  Therefore, these four will be removed, along with the lump during my surgery.

Woo hoo two hours later pre-op is now finished.  Thank God.  Just put me in the bed and knock my ass out.  I am over this being awake and being poked crap!  Into the bed we go.  Mom, dad and finance all hanging out.  Wouldn't it be great if we all could be in a room joking and trying to make me laugh that wasn't a hospital room.  Too bad it can't be that way all the time.... ahhh I digress again...  surgeon comes in and checks on me.  Then for the good stuff, here comes the anesthesiologist ...  woo hoo, night night all.  See ya on the other side.

SHIT JUST GOT REAL!

December 21, 2017....  One day till surgery.  Off to see my surgeon for final consult before the big day.  Called my oncologist one more time this morning... still no genetic results.  Wonder what my surgeon will want to do.  Hopefully still will go forward with the lumpectomy.  I want this thing out of me NOW!!  And besides all of my doctors told me the test would be negative anyways so it is just a formality.

Into the surgeon's office; check in; pay my $20 bucks.  Nurse calls me back and into the room.  Saw my surgeon on the way in.  She looked at me and her face didn't look normal.  Looked concerned.  Now I'm getting nervous and freaked out.  But surely it was nothing.  Just me being my normal paranoid self the day before surgery, right?  Wrong answer.  She walks into the room with a sheet of paper, looking like she had seen a ghost and sad.  I knew at this moment that was my test results and I  knew it wasn't good.

Glitch #2 -- This one is a biggie, huge, massive!  As suspected, she said the next sentence that will now and forever change the rest of my life.  "I'm so sorry, your test came back positive.  I can't believe it, we were all sure it would be negative.  You are BRCA2 positive".  WTF this was not supposed to go this way.  I wasn't even for sure what this meant except that it was bad.  I hadn't even researched it much since everyone was so sure it was going to be negative.

Now I go from "slam dunk" to "now what are we going to do".  Your options are to still go ahead with the lumpectomy and then we can address how we are going to handle the BRCA2 diagnosis after surgery.  Handle it?  How am I supposed to handle knowing for the rest of my life I am living with this cancer gene mutation inside of me and that I could get cancer again at any time.  How am I going to handle this.  I want to melt down, cry, scream, hit something.  Instead I say let's go ahead with the surgery tomorrow.  Smile and walk out of the office with my head reeling.

You see, with the BRCA2 gene it is recommended that the person get a double mastectomy and remove the ovaries and fallopian tubes ASAP, as this gene specifically targets breasts, ovaries, pancreas and skin cancers.  Having this gene makes your probability of getting cancer 80% more higher than the normal person.  And of course no one can give you answers about recurrence even if you do all of the preventative shit.

So that's basically it; no more slam dunk.  Going to surgery tomorrow to get this one out of me, but now for the rest of my life I have to worry about it coming back again, over and over and over.  Guess who drew the short straw in the Russian roulette wheel of genetics.  This girl........

LONGEST TWO WEEKS IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND!

Started the first week with the first of two iron infusions.  These are done at the cancer center where my oncologist is.  Walk in for my appointment ... pay my $20.00 copay (seriously this is breaking me for real)... every single time you walk into any appointment anywhere $20 bucks...  ugh!  I'm a paycheck to paycheck chick and was working a second job as well as my full time gig before the "news".  I know I shouldn't complain.  I do not see how people without insurance afford their healthcare.  Just my biopsy alone was $8,100.00; the iron infusions were $3,400.00 each; thank God for insurance!!!  Anyways... I digress again...  back to iron infusion #1.

Pay my copay and get my folder and was told to head to the chemo room.  No thanks...  don't care if I ever see this room... please don't make me go in there.  But here I go.  In the room with tons of recliners with IV stands, blankets, snacks, magazines.  Pretty much anything that might take your mind off of the fact you're in the most horrible place ever at that moment.  At this very moment I thank God I am only in this room for iron and not chemo.  I am feeling incredibly lucky.  But let's face it, I'm a giant weenie when it comes to needles and IVs and shots and the panic once again sets in.  They give me a form to sign basically saying I won't sue them if I die from a reaction to the treatment I'm about to receive.  Now pair that with the brand-new little nurse getting ready to attempt to shove this giant needle into my hand, I immediately feel like I'm going to throw up and pass out.  Poor chick... she dug and dug and then blew my vain, all the while weenie chick in the chair is having a melt down of giant proportions.  I'm sure she thought wow, this chick isn't going to make it through this process if she's already melting down over this tiny little thing....  I kind of was thinking the same thing!  Luckily the next try was done by a seasoned nurse and got it in on the first try.  And lo and behold I didn't croak!  Yay me!  LOL  Out I go... still waiting on test results, next infusion, and surgery... tick tock tick tock...

Next day, radiation doctor consult at the cancer center.  Pay the $20 bucks.  Get my folder.  Go to waiting room A.  This is the radiation waiting room I find out.  Meet my assigned radiation doctor.  We go over what will happen during radiation.  Basically 6 weeks of radiation; 5 days per week  and game plan still in place as originally discussed with oncologist on first day.  Radiation would begin around 3 weeks after the lumpectomy surgery is complete.   Out the door again...  still waiting ....

One week later back to the center once again.  Pay my $20 bucks.  Head to chemo room for 2nd iron infusion treatment.  I'm sure as soon as I walked in they all cringed and thought Oh Shit she's back... I think I saw them in the back drawing straws LOL  Anyways, I got my same seasoned nurse and all went much better than the first time.  In and out in 45 minutes and on my way again.  Still playing the waiting game on the genetic testing.  We are now 3 days until surgery and my surgeon really wanted the results back before the final decision is made regarding surgery.  Tick tock tick tock.....

SURGEON TIME

December 8, 2017, next step in the journey.  Still on my high after the oncologist visit.  Time to meet my surgeon.  Get this thing out of me ASAP so I can get back to living my life.

First... Pay my $20 copay (this will become a theme.. ugh!)  Her office is a normal doctor office.  No medals or vacation videos....  Good... she's serious...  let's talk, let's get this scheduled.

In she comes.  Very sweet but direct.  Answers my questions in more of a language I can understand. Here is what I get from this conversation:  still very small, caught very early, I now know "what" my cancer is ... ER/PR+ and HER2-; home to google this... don't understand it in her words, but she says, "if you're going to have cancer, this is the best kind", and she does not forsee any problems with the route my oncologist has placed me on.  Let's get you on the calendar for surgery in two weeks, tentatively......

Tentatively... why tentatively??  I want it done.  What would stop this from not taking place??  Well there could be some bumps in the road.  She does not forsee any, but wants me to be prepared just in case.  Bumps would include my genetic test coming back positive, which she doesn't think it will because of my family history, but this would be a bump.  Why is this I ask....  Because if it happens to come back positive it is recommended that you have a double mastectomy and at least ovaries and fallopian tubes out.  Being positive would raise your chance of this cancer or other cancers returning by 80%.  But it won't be positive, so it's all good....  Right?  Right!!  Out I go.. still feeling confident in the "slam dunk" theory.  Onward and upward!

Later that day, glitch #1 ...  call from oncologist office...  some of the blood work is back.  I am severely anemic.  I am a 5; normal is 35 to 110; WTF, how is this possible?  I just had my annual blood work and it was "perfect".  Apparently annual blood work ups do not include a CBC panel.  Why??  This should be added to our wellness requirements I think to myself.  I would have already known this.  Now will have to have iron infusions.  (yep more freakin needles).  Scheduling them for each of the next two Tuesdays before surgery.  Doc says must be bleeding from somewhere.  CAT scan scheduled for week after lumpectomy surgery to check out the anemia situation.  Okay fine... let's get rid of the cancer then we can talk anemia.

Time for more waiting.... on the genetic test, the iron infusions and surgery.... tick tock tick tock.....

SLAM DUNK

December 6, 2017, the day is finally here.  My first visit with my oncologist.  My oncologist... two words I hoped I would never have to say in any of my vocabulary.  But here we are.  I have an oncologist.

I walk in to the check in desk, honestly about to vomit all over the place.  My stomach is churning.  Pay my $20 copay and they hand me an envelope and say go to waiting room B.  I have no idea where waiting room B is...  I've never been here.  I don't want to be here.  I need help.  Finally she directed me down the hall, past waiting room A, past the chemo room, to waiting room B.

In this area there are people hanging out who are obviously in all different stages of their journey with this terrible disease.  Some seem like me who look terrified and new to all of this.  Some who obviously know their way around the joint and seem to be comfortable with being there.  Some waiting for chemo, some waiting for radiation, some just waiting for the doctors.

Finally in to see my guy.  His office is full of medals from being a marathon runner and there's a TV screen with a slide show of all of his adventures and vacations.  I immediately form two opinions.... first this guy is going to hate me.. I do not run .... ANYWHERE!  Bad out of shape girl.  She deserves cancer for not exercising.  Then the travel lover in me thinks well at least we can talk about traveling and how we love the ocean; then I start thinking will I ever see the ocean again.  Will I ever get to travel again.  The paranoia is setting in.

In walks my guy.  Seems nice enough.  We talk.  He starts throwing out all of these terms and diagnosis that I have no f'n clue what he is talking about or what any of it means at all.  This is what I finally get out of our conversation:  it is very small (4mm); it was caught extremely early; so early in fact that if I had chosen the 2D versus the 3D mammogram it would not have caught it; he's sending me to a surgeon for a lumpectomy, he's sending me to the radiation doctor to discuss how radiation will work after the lumpectomy, and we're doing some labs and having me tested for some type of genetic test, since I'm under 50 and having breast cancer is unusual so he wants to see if I have a type of gene mutation for cancer.  He says he thinks it will be negative since I have very little family history, but he wants to rule it out also.   Okay, no biggie, whatever you need to do.

Doc then says and I quote.... "This looks like a slam dunk, you are going to be fine".  And out I go to get my blood drawn for the tests and make the next appointments and on my way.

Ahhh relief!  Slam Dunk!  Hell ya!  I got this.  I can do this!   Famous last words....

THE MOST TERRIBLE WORD IN THE WORLD!

So here it goes...  my next "tragic" moment...  all the ugly details.

I said in my first post that most of these "tragedies" up to this point in my life were little tiny bumps in the road.  This time I'm predicting this will be more like a giant pot hole, you know like one of the massive ones you find around Columbia that your car gets swallowed up by,  ruins your tire, one that you know the City knows about but refuses to fix for some unknown reason.... oops again I digress... "squirrel"....  haha...  

I'm just putting off saying the bad word, but here goes....  The story....

I am vigilant with my annual exams for all of my "stuff".  At the same time every year I have all of my doctor appointments and get them all over at the same time.  Dermatologist - Check.  Pap - Check.  Blood Work - Check.  I received my annual letter in the mail from my primary care doctor.... Everything is perfect, keep doing what you're doing and will see you next year.  This was early November.

Then on to my normal annual Mammogram the day before Thanksgiving.  Do it every year.  Every year it is fine.  No breast cancer in my family, so generally not ever worried about this process.  The Monday after Thanksgiving I received a call from the Breast Center....  Something showed up on your exam this year that wasn't there last year.  We're sure it's nothing but we still want to schedule a biopsy.  I found this odd and a tad bit alarming as generally they will first do an ultrasound or an MRI.  But jumping directly to the biopsy.  #worried

I had never had a biopsy; I am also terrified of needles.  So this process was mortifying to me.  You go into a room and lay on your stomach on a table with a hole in it for your boobs to hang down through...  then a mammogram machine rolls up underneath you and squishes your "bad" boob.  Then they stick the first needle in that numbs said "bad" boob.  This HURTS!  Needle in boob = hurt.  Just an FYI for anyone who was wondering LOL.  Then you're numb thank God...  But you can hear the machine.  Sounds like a combination of a staple gun and a small vacuum sucking machine.  Taking pieces of said "bad" boob out for review.  This process takes about an hour.  They then insert a small metal piece into the "bad area" "just in case" it's something bad so they will know where it is if they have to go back in and do something more.  Then the steristrips go on and you put on your bra and they stick an ice pack in and send you on your merry way.  And this is the beginning of the waiting games that will drive you absolutely insane.  At this point I'm still confident.  It can't be anything bad.....  right? Right! They said they will call tomorrow..... tick tock tick tock.....

December 1, 2017, my cell phone rings, I have a co-worker in my office, I answer the phone because I have been waiting on the very important call from the Breast Center.  Waiting for them to call me and tell me false alarm, everything is fine, see you next year.

Well guess what, this is the phone call that will change the rest of my life.

Everything was not fine.  Instead, "I'm sorry Kristy, your biopsy shows cancer".  I froze.  The guy on the other line just kept apologizing and asking me if I have any questions.  All I could say was no and bye.... hung up and began crying.... My poor co-worker (male) basically didn't know what to do and bolted.  Poor guy I feel bad for him now...  hell I didn't know what to do or say, how could he know how to handle the neurotic crazy lady breaking down.

I took an hour or so and processed the new info and finally called the guy back.  Now I had some questions, what kind, how big, what stage, how aggressive.... He basically had no answers for me except to say the oncologist office would be calling in the next few days (yes next few days...  I wanted to scream at him, make them call me now, I need answers now, not in a  few days) to schedule an appointment to begin treatment and told me that it was ductal and lobular carcinoma, both types of cancer.  Didn't have a clue what that meant, but it sure sounded horrible! This was all he had for me.

Thank goodness the oncologist office called me to schedule my first C word appointment the same day (not a few days) whew....  Said she had an appointment Tuesday (a week and half later).  I flipped out on the poor lady and demanded I wanted something ASAP.  Luckily there must have been a cancelation or something because they actually got me in within a few days instead of a week and a half.  Still, those four days were hell.   I can't even explain it and pray that none of you reading this have to know what that feels like!!

So now I wait....  with the knowledge that my life is going to get absolutely insane but I wait... I have the C word and that's all I know.... tick tock tick tock tick tock...

YOU SHOULD WRITE A BOOK.....

All my life people have been telling me... You should write a book... You can't make this shit up!

That seems to have been the theme of my life thus far.  A lot of these moments were trying times and I thought life was awful and unfair and that I would never rebound from whatever "tragic" moment was happening at that time.  It's possible I might be a little tiny bit of a drama queen at times... maybe?  ♕

So here I am writing... about my life...  it's not quite a book, and it may not be a great novel, but it is me....  all of my raw emotions, feelings, at times will be venting, sometimes it may be funny, or serious and some topics will probably not be some people's cup of tea, but for me, this will be one of my coping mechanisms for trying to deal with and process the next "tragic" thing that is happening in my life.

On December 1, 2017 I found out none of those things in the past were all that tragic and I really had been taking my pretty darn perfect life for granted.  Those other moments were just tiny little bumps in the road of life. How foolish I feel now for thinking they were real problems.

I know I have been less than forthcoming and quite vague with what has been going on lately with me and a lot of people have been asking how I am doing.  I've now had a month to try to process all of this and all of the information that has been thrown at me.  I decided a blog would both let me keep my great friends and family updated on my journey without having to repeat things a million times and more importantly, to provide an outlet for me to vent and let my feelings out.  For people that know me well know I tend to keep it all in and this might possibly help me try to not bottle it all up.

Writing has always been easy for me.  I know most people, probably not even my family and friends, knew this little secret, but in my high school days I dreamed of being a writer.  I loved to write.  Comp. English was my favorite subject and I was really good at it.  Somewhere along the way of not finishing college, getting married, and having my wonderful son that dream got lost, as most dreams do for most kids in high school.

So here we go....  I'm living my dream.... haha.... just not in the large scale I had once hoped for, but it's a start, right??  

Thanks for reading and following!!  Hopefully some will at least learn something or get a good laugh at my expense at some point during this lovely novel! LOL!