Holding On

Waiting for the biopsy wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Everyone I ran into said that obviously the doctor wasn't concerned so it was probably just a formality. I really thought that too. Logically, why would I have cancer? I had done everything right. I had gotten pregnant early (before 25) and I had nursed all three children for at least 12 months each. There was no family history. I was 42. Of course it wasn't cancer!

I took my mother to the biopsy because she really wanted to be included, and my husband went as well. I was having a core needle biopsy, so I was told to strip and lay face down on a bed with two circles cut out. The doctor had given me a Valium before the procedure so I wasn't that nervous. However, even though they numbed the sites where the needles were going in, it was extremely painful. I wasn't prepared for it and tears instantly sprang to my eyes. It felt exactly like it sounded--a four inch needle being inserted into your breast hurts. And of course she had trouble finding the spots she want to biopsy so there were several punctures. I was really crying by the time it was over, and I felt very betrayed. Why hadn't she told me this would hurt?? I could barely stand up. I was really beginning to hate this doctor. When I left I was told I would have the results in a week, and that they would call me. 

Meanwhile, I had gone to see the gallbladder surgeon back in December and she said I definitely needed surgery to remove my gallbladder. She wanted to do it before Christmas but there was no way I could do that so it was scheduled for the 24th. It would be outpatient, and I was to have three laser incisions in my stomach. The doctor told me that afterwards I would feel like a truck ran over me. Great. 

So there I was after the biopsy and my left breast became horribly bruised. Like--omg gasp what happened!?!-- bruised. Completely purple and green. Imagine what the doctor and nurses thought when I went for the gallbladder surgery, which incidentally was the day before I was to get the biopsy results back. They were all shocked by the sight of my breast, which didn't exactly instill any more confidence in the breast doctor. 

The gallbladder surgery went as fine as surgeries can go. There were no complications and I was sent home to rest. That was Thursday January 24. January 25 was the day I was supposed to hear from the breast surgeon. Did I have cancer? In a way, I was actually glad I had had the gallbladder surgery the day before because I was in too much pain and on too many pain pills to be nervous about the cancer results. But needless to say, while I tried to keep up a good front for my family, I was still sick with fear. 

The next morning, Friday,  I waited Ito hear from them in bed. I was very sore from the gallbladder surgery and couldn't move around. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I called the office. It was around 11:00. I got the receptionist and explained that I was supposed to get my biopsy results back. She told me to hold on and then came back on the line. She said, and I will never forget it, "well, your left breast is fine but your right breast has cancer. Looks like you need to come in today and talk to Dr. Robbins."

How do I say what was going through my mind? A million things. But honestly what I remember is saying I can't come in today. I just had gallbladder surgery and I can't get out of bed. She then said to come in on Monday. I weakly said okay and hung up. Now, mind you, I knew this wasn't how you were supposed to find out you had cancer. While I had been clueless and naive in all the things that had gone on before, I knew this was very very wrong. I knew I had been treated abominably. But what could I do?