The biopsy results are in

Today my wait was finally over as the biopsy results are in. Assuming that the doctor obtained a representative sample during the procedure (and as I unfortunately know all too well, this could be an erroneous assumption), the news is good. The pathologist says the tissue shows only benign changes. I vaguely remember the nurse who called me saying something about "ductal stroma" and "hyperplasia" but with my chemo-battered brain's short term memory problems, I'm not sure until I see a copy of the written report. In any case, apparently the pathologist saw no signs of cancer in the sample, which is definitely a good thing.

Nonetheless, I am only guardedly optimistic, as I've heard this kind of thing before and it was a false negative back then. So I am still contemplating having a prophylactic mastectomy on the right side. I just don't know how many more false alarms and unnecessary biopsies I can take. Having long, thick needles shoved into very sensitive body parts just isn't that much fun for me, and neither is waiting for the biopsy.

But at least there is no urgent news for further surgery, and no other treatment imminent. I am very, very grateful for that!

The fun just never ends...

So I hadn't posted in a while, hoping that all that cancer stuff was slowly but surely behind me, despite the occasional scares and worries. But then, with cancer, the fun never really ends...and I sure got a reminder of that.

In late December, I went to my annual mammo and sono. The weekend before, I had noticed some tenderness in my one remaining boob, and felt a funny, hardened area when I checked out the sore spot. So I was sure to let the technicians and doctors know about it when I went for my routine appointment. The mammo came back clear. Initially, the soon looked clear, as well. But since I had noticed something there, the radiologist gave me a breast exam (though she couldn't feel anything abnormal) and checked the area with the ultrasound over and over.

Well, and if you check thing out thoroughly enough -- you guessed it! -- you eventually find something. In this particular case, a one centimeter suspicious mass. This, of course, meant that they immediately scheduled me for a core biopsy. Due to the holidays, the first available date I could get for that was today. Oh the fun wait over the holidays is just hard to describe.

Anyway, I went for my biopsy today and what fun it was. At first the radiologist tried an aspiration, just in case it was a cyst. It wasn't, so she moved on to the core biopsy. I was grateful that she numbed me up pretty thoroughly, but still it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Apparently it was really close to the chest wall and tough to get to, so I had to reposition myself and roll over the examination table several times, all while they have some nice large needles shoved into my boob. Oh, did i mention that as soon as they were done shoving needles into me they noticed that i was nicely red and flushed? No crash cart this time, just a Benadryl and then it was off to the mammo confirming the placement of the clip that now marks the biopsy site, and finally a few extra minutes of observation with the nurse. As I said, the fun just never seems to end...

I am resting comfortably now, icing the sore area for about fifteen minutes every hour and taking it easy.

Now it's on to the post-biopsy wait, with results expected in 3-4 days. Since I assume we're talking working days here, I guess that means sometime early next week. Keep fingers crossed...!

519 days later, a clean bill of health

Today, 519 days after I was first diagnosed with TNBC, I had another follow-up appointment with the butcher. I am happy to report, that it was a 45 second check-up that found me in the clear! No pains, no problems, NED!!! That's what I like to hear, that's what I would like to keep hearing in the future.

Only a few more months and I will have made it through those first two years post-diagnosis. Once I have successfully made that milestone, the poison man will let me thaw out some embies. Can't wait...

New (out)look

Since it had been a while that I had posted anything, I thought this blog could use a new look. After all, my active treatment phase has been over for a while now (thank goodness!)... So I explored the new template design functions within blogger and gave my blog a global overhaul. What can I say -- I think I am moving beyond my "pink" phase in some ways. 

This seems particularly appropriate since on July 20, I finally began the very last phase of my reconstruction process. This meant getting my very first tattoo -- or tatone, as I like to call it (since it is my first one; a second one might be called tattwo...). You may be tempted to think that I am crazy, getting inked and all. But not to worry, this is a medically approved, doctor-executed (thanks, Dr. K!), and insurance-paid (hopefully) part of my reconstruction. 

Let me explain: During my mastectomy, the butcher removed not only all breast tissue, but also the nipple. It didn't have any signs of disease, but this a common precautionary practice. So during my last surgery (see my previous post), my boob man had to reconstruct a nipple with some skin he removed from my healthy breast during the lift procedure that made that boob match my foob. So far so good. The only remaining issue was that the transplanted skin was much lighter than a real nipple, since it was skin-colored (duh!). Hence the need for tattooing, to make it darker so it looks like a real nipple-areola complex. 

So no, I did NOT get a "tramp stamp" or some other ink that I'll change my mind about in a few years and run to get it lasered off. This is a strictly medical tattoo. It came out pretty nicely, only a tad darker than my healthy side. But my boob man said that the pigments fade a bit over time, anyway. So now I am really, really happy with my reconstruction, as it looks remarkably real. That was important to me, as it helps me move on with my life and put that whole breast cancer thing safely behind me. 

It is so nice to be able to focus on living, rather than on being forced to concentrate on getting treatment! What a difference to one year ago. I know that I am lucky things have gone so well for me. I still follow quite a few blogs of fellow breast cancer survivors, not all of whom have been as lucky as I have. In recent weeks, some of those fellow survivors have had to face recurrences, or progression of their metastatic disease. Some other survivors have had to face diagnostic scares, which luckily ended up with benign findings in the end. 

But such is the life of a cancer survivor: Even if I don't think about cancer most of the time, any unusual pain, lump, or bump triggers that deep-seated fear of recurrence, relapse, or even worse -- metastasis. After all, our future is even more uncertain than everyone else's. In TNBC, for instance, survival rates are lower than for any other type of breast cancer, and recurrences are particularly common in the first two years. So as I near the 500 days past diagnosis mark, I realize that I am not past those most critical two years yet, and really should not be thinking about thawing out any of those twelve little embies we banked before my chemo. 

Instead, I try to focus on living as best as I can. Part of that was that I went on a trip that I had long wanted to make: China! We spent three weeks there and came back with unforgettable memories (well, they would be unforgettable, that is, if it weren't for my residual chemo brain), thousands of pictures, and plenty of stories to tell. One more thing to check off my bucket list, then!

Now I can focus on what other things I want to put on my bucket list, so I can focus on living, enjoying relationships, and loving it all -- regardless of what the future may bring. I suppose this is what they mean by the "new normal"???

Surgery #7 done!!!

Yesterday, I went into the ambulatory surgery center for TNBC-related surgery #7. Wow, considering that before last March I had never had surgery under general anesthesia, I sure have come a long way in the past year with a total of seven such surgeries... I must admit I'm growing a bit weary of all that cutting-type stuff, though. Perhaps I don't want to be quite as much on the "cutting edge" in the future...

In any case, my surgery yesterday was scheduled for noon. But then of course, surgeries later in the day almost always start a bit later than planned since previous surgeries run longer -- and yesterday's surgery was no exception. The delay wasn't that long, but still, it made it that much harder for the anesthesiologist to find a usable vein in my right hand since I'm so dehydrated and hungry after having been more than thirteen hours NPO, that my tiny veins hide even more than usual. So the anesthesiologist decided to use a "volunteer" vein on the underside of my wrist with "just a little bee sting" of lidocaine to numb that sensitive area. I protested, telling her that last time someone did that I ended up with paralysis and all kinds of issues for weeks. But she didn't listen. Boy did that "little bee sting" hurt badly -- and when she had the IV in, it kept burning like crazy. I knew right away something was wrong. But they had just pushed my "milk of amnesia" to put me out, so I didn't find out what (if anything) they did about it. 

When I came to in the post anesthesia-recovery unit, not only was I in pain, but nauseous to boot. So the nurse gave me some IV zofran, which burned like crazy. When I complained, she checked my line, and sure enough, my wrist was ballooning up as though I had an egg growing under my skin. Yikes, something had shifted and rather than go into my blood stream as they should, the meds were ending up in my soft tissues. Not good. The nurse had to call the anesthesiologist back out to check that IV line, and she decided to pull it. Ah, what a relief!

Some pain meds and quite a bit of waiting later, they moved me into a chair and called in DH to keep me company. The surgery had taken two hours, and I spent another two hours waking up before DH was allowed to see me, and then almost another two hours after that before I felt strong enough to go home. This was certainly one of the more nauseous recoveries from surgery that I have had... But I guess all those previous six surgeries and that little bit of poison to which I was treated last summer did leave their mark...

In any case, I'm glad this (hopefully) last reconstruction surgery is over. At this point, the nausea is much better, and the pain is reasonably well controlled with vicodin. On Friday, I go see my boob man to have the stitches removed. Until then, unfortunately, only sponge baths for me... I'm looking forward to that first post-surgery shower -- always do! Sorry if this is TMI...

Oh, I almost forgot: The funny thing was that while I was drifting in and out of sleep in the post-anesthesia recovery unit, all of sudden I saw my other surgeon, the butcher, walking around. He saw me, beamed at me, and said a quick hi. Oddly, once while I was recovering in that very same bay after having the surgery with him where he placed my chemo port, I happened to see my boob man walk by. When he saw me then and said hi, he examined my tissue expander and said it wasn't expanding right -- but not to worry he would replace it on Friday (it was a Tuesday then). Thus I was glad that my quick conversation with the butcher did not result in further surgery this week!

So surgery #7 is over, and all I need to do now is recover. I hope the last reconstructive touches came out nicely, so I can heal, move on, and have a reasonably realistic reconstruction of my old self. Let the healing begin!