When Life Hands You Cancer... (Part II)
Okay, so basically where I left off, the surgeon had ordered more tests.
At this particular point, I was feeling disappointed that the cryoablation didn't work out, but I had no idea that the fact that the tumor had changed shape was specifically a bad sign. I'd lived with this stupid wonky tumor for a while now, and the fact that it was suddenly being an a-hole was strange but not totally alarming.
So this brings us up to yesterday, when I went in for my new testing: a mammograph. Apparently "mammograph" is the same thing as "mammogram", but "mammogram" is the outmoded term and the imaging specialist will look at you like you're a big ol' moron if you ask what the difference is. So consider yourself educated.
Anywho, the imaging nurse mammograPHs me and then sends me back out into the waiting room, telling me she's going to prepare a room for an ultrasound.
"I'm only here for a mammogram...ph..." I try to protest.
"I know, but now you're having an ultrasound and another biopsy."
It's generally not a good sign when you go in for one test and they rush you in for two more that were completely unscheduled, but that's exactly what happened, and next thing I know my awesomely Irish doctor is rubbing my knee and telling me that the tumor didn't change shape, it grew, and the new cells are noninvasive carcenoma in situ, which basically means it's cancer, it's growing, but it hasn't started picking fights yet.
In stage terms, it's pre- Stage One.
Honestly, I got lucky. Really, really lucky. This thing didn't make a move until it was under the microscope. And now I'm gonna get all Charlton Heston on it.
My surgery is scheduled for 8 am on Friday, which is kind of insane considering they told me I had cancer all of YESTERDAY.
Fingers crossed, aggressive surgery should be the only treatment I need. Since it hasn't spread yet, radiation probably won't be necessary. I will have a giant scar and probably some disfiguring, which sucks, but oh well. I could theoretically get it fixed, but I think for now I'll just keep my Franken-boob as a badge of honor.
So that's where we stand. I guess I'll have some more updates after the surgery. Until then, wish me luck. Just don't worry about me.
At this particular point, I was feeling disappointed that the cryoablation didn't work out, but I had no idea that the fact that the tumor had changed shape was specifically a bad sign. I'd lived with this stupid wonky tumor for a while now, and the fact that it was suddenly being an a-hole was strange but not totally alarming.
So this brings us up to yesterday, when I went in for my new testing: a mammograph. Apparently "mammograph" is the same thing as "mammogram", but "mammogram" is the outmoded term and the imaging specialist will look at you like you're a big ol' moron if you ask what the difference is. So consider yourself educated.
Anywho, the imaging nurse mammograPHs me and then sends me back out into the waiting room, telling me she's going to prepare a room for an ultrasound.
"I'm only here for a mammogram...ph..." I try to protest.
"I know, but now you're having an ultrasound and another biopsy."
It's generally not a good sign when you go in for one test and they rush you in for two more that were completely unscheduled, but that's exactly what happened, and next thing I know my awesomely Irish doctor is rubbing my knee and telling me that the tumor didn't change shape, it grew, and the new cells are noninvasive carcenoma in situ, which basically means it's cancer, it's growing, but it hasn't started picking fights yet.
In stage terms, it's pre- Stage One.
Honestly, I got lucky. Really, really lucky. This thing didn't make a move until it was under the microscope. And now I'm gonna get all Charlton Heston on it.
 |
| "Guns don't kill tumors. Pissed off people with surgeons kill tumors." |
My surgery is scheduled for 8 am on Friday, which is kind of insane considering they told me I had cancer all of YESTERDAY.
Fingers crossed, aggressive surgery should be the only treatment I need. Since it hasn't spread yet, radiation probably won't be necessary. I will have a giant scar and probably some disfiguring, which sucks, but oh well. I could theoretically get it fixed, but I think for now I'll just keep my Franken-boob as a badge of honor.
So that's where we stand. I guess I'll have some more updates after the surgery. Until then, wish me luck. Just don't worry about me.
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