So …

I derped on the surgical consult date. They told me the 14th, which I thought was yesterday, but it is today, actually, LOL…which is why I didn’t post anything last night. Could you see the blog title now? “Derp…” Content: I got my dates wrong, LOL.

Wondering what is going on? Hit this installment of Random Musings…

Kind of where my head is right now…

So Johnny picked me up from the office and got me to the doc’s office with time to spare, which was good, because…well…paperwork. After I knocked that out, we sat in the waiting room for about ten or fifteen minutes. I was anxious…I don’t do the unknown too well. I found out quickly that the only thing worse than killing time in the waiting room is sitting in the exam room with an itchy, paper vest on, waiting for the doc to come in. I told Johnny if he ever wanted to know what that was like I would staple some printer paper together and fashion a vest for him to wear. It was also cold.

Dr. Stockton, whom I’d never met, but  have seen in the halls at work, shook our hands and went to work. When he told us the suspect mass couldn’t be felt, I asked how could he NOT feel it! Well, what I had been originally worried about turns out to be a cyst, as was the area my everyday doc had been worried about. No, this was something new…A mass that the mammogram and ultrasound saw, but none of us had known anything about. Do what? A THIRD intruder? And this one might be looking to do me harm. I was floored. I think he said something about front, upper quadrant location? I don’t know…I think I might have mentally checked out for a minute…

Long story short, I have this family history, am female, and we have really late menopause on my mom’s side of the family. There are some risk factors, right there. On the plus side, I had my kids before the age of 30, didn’t get my first period early (I was actually a late bloomer and remember feeling like the only freak that didn’t have that problem…), but then, my mom had her kids prior to 30, too. The doc threw out some stats…like one in what? 16-18 women get breast cancer, but with immediate family history, those numbers go to one in SIX women. ONE in SIX? Damn, people….that’s kind of a big deal!

So this is where he started speaking Greek, but I did pick up some familiar words – “Biopsy,” (which, for some reason, always makes me think of that movie, “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding” where the aunt talks about her “bopsy” – please, might I have a shot or six of Uzo?), ultrasound, and radiology. He told us that in the past couple of years, the old wire biopsies weren’t done much, anymore, in favor of biopsies done with an ultrasound and a very thin needle. I think that’s when I checked out, again. Johnny was paying attention, however. Dr. Stockton is no bullshit. He put it out on the table. Had I not already had risk factors going on, he would have recommended that I simply follow-up with another ultrasound and mammogram in a few months, but…”Please have a seat around the corner and we’ll get you scheduled…”

Now, I’ve had my fair share of scares with lumps and bumps, and have had numerous follow-ups with ultrasound and mammography, but now this shit’s getting real, because we’re talking about needles and the like. (???!!!)

The nice lady behind the window called me up and gave me a list of blood thinners to absolutely stay away from for the next 7 days. Among the listed items are Motrin, Advil, aspirin, fish oil, multi-vitamins, flax seed, naproxin, Exedrin, and a bunch of stuff I’d never heard of. I circled what I’ve taken over the past months (I try to hit my fish oil and multi-vites daily) and signed that I would not hit those from this point until next Wednesday, which was when they scheduled me for the biopsy. Hurry up and wait…

I got back to work, had to do a meeting, talked with my boss, and then had a few spare minutes, so I googled the verbiage I saw on my copy of the radiology orders. I got a vocabulary lesson…

FNA: Fine Needle Aspiration.

Ultrasound Assist: A way to get the “Fine Needle” into the mass if it can’t be felt by guiding the needle by way of the images on the screen.

How much fun will THIS be? Oh…and I have a follow-up with Dr. Stockton (did I mention that I REALLY like him? He rocks the general surgery world, because, again? He’s no bullshit) two weeks from today. Hurry up and wait…

During this time, I’m thinking that alcohol is a blood thinner…But I didn’t see it on the list of things not to consume…Can I drink this week? Because, by now? You know I want some wine, and had actually been thinking that it might have been cool if they allowed wine in my office, because I really was freaked out. During this thought process my phone rang and caller ID showed, “Radiology,” so I snatched the receiver up fast. A nurse was calling to confirm my appointment and we discussed blood thinners. I asked about wine. Wine’s ok. I can even have it up to the night before the procedure. My nurse was really amazing, which didn’t surprise me because our Radiology Department pretty much kicks butt.

Once we got the important stuff out of the way (I’m kidding, by the way) she asked me who would be driving me and did I plan on coming back to work? I asked her if it was okay if I did come back to work. She said I would need ice packs and a comfortable and supportive sports bra. That settled it. I have maintenance guys, Environmental Services supervisors and manager coming around the corner and into my office on a regular basis daily, and the idea of any of them seeing me with a bag of frozen peas on my boob was enough to make up my mind. I will not be returning to my office after the fact.

So this is where we are, and I wanted to keep you posted, because somewhere, now or in the future, someone else will have a boob with a visitor that might be trying to hurt them, and I want this to be a real, first person narrative, no matter how this turns out, so that she who happens stumble upon my related blog posts won’t feel like they are the first or only person to have gone through this.

That said? The idea of a diagnosis doesn’t freak me out as badly as simply not knowing.

Until next time…