Pricks

Today, I began what I am sure will be a long relationship with needles. I got up at the unGodly hour of 5:30 a.m. Between the hours of 7 and 9:30 a.m. I was probably pricked with a needle - in my left breast no less! - over 15 times! My appointment was to have an ultrasound-led core needle biopsy. I had had one before, on July 18th, but that one was maybe 5 needles. This one seemed a little excessive.

Luckily, I only really feel the first prick because that is the one which numbs me up. After that it is just some pressure and watching wide-eyed (and sometimes not watching at all) as the radiologist sticks thermometer- and pencil-size needles into a small incision. This time was worse, because it was all happening, literally, in front of my face. Last time I was facing my left side and the doctor was working from my right, so I was looking away. In the room with me this time were an ultrasound tech, a nurse, and the radiologist. He wore a white coat that read "Good Samaritan Director of International Radiology" which made me confident that he was capable. Little did I know he would also be thorough! His name was Burstein and he looked an awful lot like a bald Ben Stein ("Bueller . . . Bueller . . .").

Because Ben Stein was so thorough, he took about six samples with the core biopsy. Then he inserted a tiny clip to mark the spot in further mammograms and ultrasounds. The nurse applied pressure to the insertion spot and then I sat up, got my bearings, and went to have a mammogram to make sure the clip showed up. I highly recommend having your breast numbed before having a mammography - it's not half as painful as having it done when you're not numb. Unfortunately, that isn't ever an option at a regular mammogram.

I waited a few minutes and the radiologist came in to say that the clip was in the wrong spot, which can happen because the clip is inserted when one is laying and the mammogram is taken standing, and, as we all know, breast move. So . . . it's back to the table, more numbing, another incision in another spot, more biopsy needle insertions - about four this time - and then another clip. Did I mention that the biopsy needle sounded like a stapler? Each time it extracted tissue, it would make a loud clickclick! sound. Good times. Luckily, I felt nothing.

After another mamm and then a short wait, I was bandaged up by the nurse, given a small ice pack to wear in my bra (nice look) and sent on my way. Have to go back on Monday to have the incisions checked but other than a little soreness in the area, I am feeling fine.

I have to say that I have had such great treatment at Good Samaritan Hospital in Downer's Grove! Love that place. Whether I was giving birth, having MRIs or mammograms or having my procedure today, everyone there is always kind, reassuring, professional and just fantastic.

After that, it was a quick trip through the Micky D's drive through for a breakfast burrito and a Mocha Frappe before heading to the surgeon's office in Bloomingdale for genetic testing. The geneticist and her geneticist-in-training where so nice and explained the whole process of why it is recommended and how they find what they need to know. After about an hour of explanation from her on the process and explanation from me on my extended family's history, she drew some blood and I was off again.

Due to my early morning, I napped for about 3 hours and am feeling good. Ate yummy taco salad that Beni made for dinner and then spent about 2 hours on the phone with a good friend. Now I am off to watch a tivoed episode of Anthony Bourdain in Naples. Love that guy! Until the next time . . .

The Madness Ensues

Today, was a good day. Having the relief of knowing my type, stage and treatment options and having told the boys last night, today was a breeze. I had to get two fillings this morning - you know, to add to the barrage of appointments, we gotta mix it up a little. Luckily they were easy ones that didn't need drilling, just air abrasion. In and out in 45 min.

Tomorrow, I have to be at Good Samaritan Hospital at 7 a.m. (I actually asked the nurse, "In the morning?") for another ultrasound, this time of my left breast. The surgeon said there was a tiny blip on that side and before taking any course of action, we should determine if the blip is cancerous. Therefore, at the crack of dawn, they will see if they can find said blip with an ultrasound. If so, they insert a needle and take a biopsy of the spot. If not, I schedule yet another appointment for an MRI/biopsy. After that appointment, I go to Bloomingdale to have blood drawn for genetic testing to see if I am BRAC positive. After that, I will need a nap.

Luckily Friday is a ME day! I've had plans to have lunch with some friends and then drinks and snacks with other friends since before our vacation and all the bad news, so I am really looking forward to some fun time. Saturday, Sunday and Monday will be a nice long weekend of relaxing. I may have lunch with another friend on Monday.

The madness starts again on Tuesday when I meet with my oncologist at the Central DuPage Hospital Cancer Center in Wheaton. Don't ask my doctor's name. I don't know it yet. Maybe Dr. Horvath? After Tuesday, I should have some definite answers about a treatment plan. Then it will be time to decide what my work schedule will look like.

Until next time . . .

The Waiting Game is Over

I have been a hypocondriac for as long as I can remember. When I was probably in 6th grade, I remember having a mark on my small budding breast that I was certain was this AIDS disease that I kept hearing about on the news. I thought about how sad my parents would be to find out I had AIDS. All I knew was that AIDS was a big deal and was killing a lot of people. I had no idea how you got it and that there was NO way I could have had it. Unfortunately, we had no internet back then, or I would have done what I do now and looked up "symptoms of AIDS" and diagnosed myself.

Keeping that in mind, I have spent the past few days coming to terms with the idea that my achy back and inability to catch my breath at times had nothing to do with stress and anxiety but was a sure sign that cancer had spread to my lungs. What if my constant forgetfulness was due to the cancer possibly growing in my brain?

Not every moment in the past few days was spent thinking these thoughts. Sometimes - like when I was watching Kardashian re-runs - I was fine. Confident even, that things would all turn out okay.

Relatively speaking, things DID turn out okay. Not good. Not great. Okay. This is what I learned today.

* The cancer has not spread to my lungs or brain.

* I have Invasive Lobular Carcinoma or ILC (as I had suspected based from my internet research).

* It is at Stage III, which is better than Stage IV

* It is HER2 positive - which is a good and bad thing if you have to have cancer. It makes the cancer cells grow faster BUT is very treatable with a chemotherapy called Herceptin.

* I have two options: surgery followed by chemo or chemo and then surgery

* I have to meet with an oncologist later this week to decide which route to take

After the appointment and after dinner, Beni and I told the boys. There were not as many tears on my part as I thought. I think it might even have been harder on Beni than me. Mario was angry and didn't want to look at me. He was mad I hadn't told him sooner because he knew something was wrong from the time when we were in California and I had received a phone call from my ObGyn and cried. I asked for his forgiveness. He didn't grant it right away, but I think we're good now. Frankie was upset. He cried a little and asked a lot of questions; I was very proud of him. He asked me if I was scared and I told him I was and that is was okay to be scared and to cry. He told me he wouldn't snuggle with me until it was all over. He thought I might be contagious. It wasn't until they both had calmed down a little and Mario looked up the question "Is cancer contagious" on the internet that Frankie gave me a hug and a kiss. He said that daddy told him hugs were like magic for people going through cancer.

After that, I talked to my mom. When I mentioned Herceptin, there was instant relief in her voice. When she had her mastectomy back in 2000, after her chemo and radiation, she participated in a gene therapy trial for a brand new "miracle" drug called . . . can you guess? . . . Herceptin! More than 10 years later, that may be the drug that saves my life! I am taking this as a good sign.

The Ugly Cancer Monster Rears It's Nasty Head

About two months ago, right after school/work let out, as I was getting out of the shower, I felt a hard area on my breast. I thought it was strange, but since I was expecting my period in a few days, and I knew that you weren't supposed to do self breast exams right before your period, I told myself I'd wait to see if it changed in the next few days. It wasn't a lump, per se, like most people say they feel when they find cancer. It was just a large, dense area taking up about a quarter of my lower, right breast. I waited.

A day or two after my period ended and the area hadn't changed at all, I called my ObGyn. They scheduled me to come in the following day. The nurse practitioner checked me out and wrote up an order to have a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. I called and the soonest I could schedule the mammogram was a week later. This was Tuesday, June 21st. We were leaving for three weeks in California on that Saturday, the 25th.

On the 21st I had the mammogram done and they wanted to do an ultrasound as well. During the ultrasound, the technician said it was very difficult to tell if she could see anything. She asked if the radiologist could come in. He did. They both looked at my breast, and the image. The felt the area manually and looked at the image with the ultrasound. The radiologist said it was difficult to tell so, with my family history in mind, he suggested I get an MRI. He said he'd send the ultrasound results to my ObGyn and she could order the MRI.

The following day, the 22nd, I called the ObGyn office. They hadn't received the reports from mammography. I called mammography and they said they had sent the report but they would send it again. I let it go figuring my Ob would call.

On Thurs., the 23rd, I still hadn't heard so I called the Ob office again. They claimed they still hadn't received a report from mammography, so I told them to call and straighten it out themselves because when I called, they said they'd sent it over. Didn't hear anything Friday.

Saturday, June 25th we left for California. On Monday the 27th we headed up to my parents vacation house in Meadow Valley where I didn't have cell phone reception. We did have a land line, but since I hadn't heard back, and since I had made both offices aware that I was leaving for vacation and would have liked to have had the MRI before I left, I figured, it would have to wait.

After a nice week in the mountains, we returned on Friday, July 1st and I had seven frantic messages from nurses in the Ob office. The office was closed, so I called Sat. morning. No one was there. I left a message. Sunday passed, Monday was the Fourth of July and Tuesday morning, I finally reached the nurse. She asked me what the ultrasound tech. had told me. I told her that all they said to me was that it was hard to tell and I should get an MRI. The nurse told me that according to the report, they said I had a "cancerous growth". The nurse said she was going to schedule me for an appointment with a breast surgeon for as soon as I returned home. I hung up the phone and went with all my family to take family portraits at a local park. Smile!

So, I spent the next two weeks of my vacation trying not to worry. My mom, who is a breast cancer survivor, told me the surgeon would probably do a biopsy and until we knew for sure, we should not worry. During that time the appointment was made for the day after we returned, Monday, July 18th. No one knew but my parents and my husband.

On the 18th, the breast surgeon looked at the mass via ultrasound and did an ultrasound core biopsy to remove some of the tissue in the area. She sent the tissue to pathology for testing and said she should have results in two to three days. In the meantime, we scheduled a breast MRI for Saturday. Those days were horrible. I felt nauseated most of the time waiting for the phone to ring, wanting to know and not wanting to know at the same time. It didn't help that the weather was hot with heat indexes in the 100s. When I didn't get the call on Wed., I knew the call would come on Thursday. It took hours to fall asleep Wed. night with all the thoughts that were racing through my head. I had spent a few hours researching on the internet and am pretty convinced that they type I have is called Invasive Lobular Carcinoma, simply because it was the only type that matched my symptoms - not a small, hard lump, but a broad, dense mass. We shall see if my diagnosis matches the doctor's. That night I became resigned to the idea that I did, in fact, have cancer.

Thursday I was a ball of nerves. At 6:30 p.m. the surgeon called. It was cancer. She didn't tell me a type or a stage. She said to go ahead with the MRI and we would meet in her office again on Tuesday the 26th to discuss options, oncologists, etc. I hung up and it felt surreal. I am 42 years old and I have cancer. How would I tell my boys? They will be devastated. Beni and I have decided to wait until Tuesday until we have more information to give them.

Now we just wait until next Tuesday when we get more concrete information like type, stage, treatment options, etc. I will keep you posted. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

Have an Eggs-ellent Easter!

Wishing one and all an EGGS-ellent Easter!

Groundhog Day

At the end of last summer, we discovered we had a new neighbor. A cute little groundhog (also referred to as a woodchuck) could be seen from time to time coming in and out from under our nextdoor neighbor's deck. For those of you who have never seen one, a groundhog is about the size of a rabbit but with a face more like a squirrel and a tail somewhere in between the two. All four of us would get very excited to see our friend make an appearance now and then.

During the fall we noticed the groundhog would also go under the deck of our back door neighbors and under our deck as well. I did a little research and learned that groundhogs like to burrow and make trails underground. I imagined our little furry friend had quite the nice 3 -room apartment underground with long hallways connecting his three lairs, each located under a different neighbor's deck.

In the winter, after a fresh snowfall, we could see trails leading from under our deck to a group of three trees at the back of our yard. Undoubtedly, our friend had gone out for a stroll. When the snow finally melted, we found some discolored lines running through our yard, all leading to our deck. We tested them out and the ground did not sink beneath our feet, so we thanked out furry friend for digging his tunnel deep enough so as not to ruin our lawn and left him alone.

Yet, in late fall, or maybe early winter, or next door neighbors put out a trap for the little critter. It was a safe trap, so it didn't alarm us, but we wondered why our neighbor didn't find the groundhog as cute as we did. She doesn't have a garden, nor any nice landscaping to speak of, so she can't be concerned about the animal destroying her yard. Unless it was chewing wires under her deck, I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't like watching it. I've heard other people complain about chipmunks digging away so much dirt from under their front stoop that it collapsed, but I welcome my little chipmunks (or as Frankie calls them, chipmunkeys). There may be little holes among my carpet roses and day lillies, but I like them!

Last Wednesday, as Frankie and I arrived home after daycare and work, Mario announced that the groundhog had been captured and that he was going back out to check on him. Frankie and I went out to take a look as well. Here is a photo of what we saw:

Mario stood a careful distance away, observing and taking notes. Don't ask me why. He was suddenly a mini-explorer who had discovered some new species. His notes included, "looks like a beaver, long tail, face looks like a bear, struggling," etc. Mario said that Beni had sent him next door to let the neighbors know they had caught the groundhog and they told him they already knew, so we assumed they called animal control.

Mario admitted to me at bathtime that even though he had been taking copious notes, he felt like crying seeing the poor animal locked up like that. Both boys were worried about Mr. Groundhog's fate, and I assured them that animal control would take him to the woods and set him free to live with the other groundhogs. Later, Mario routinely looked out the family room window to see if the groundhog was still there, and sadly, he was.

The next morning, Mario got up and got dressed and the next thing he did was run downstairs to look out of the window and see if the little critter was still there. He was. I know that he's an animal and used to the elements and it wasn't that cold but I really felt bad! I'm sure he was terrified - as per Mario's notes, he did struggle to get out. I'm sure he was colder than usual since he usually sleeps either under a deck or underground.

I told some friends at work about the situation and they said that animal control would have come before dark if they had been called when Mario went over to tell them. This leads me to believe they did not call. For this reason, I am not too pleased with my neighbors. All day at work I worried about the groundhog and planned on calling animal control myself if he was still there when I got home. I also wanted to report my neighbors to the animal cruelty society. Maybe PETA would come and throw red paint on their house! Luckily, by the time I got home, he was gone, cage and all.

Although we are sad to see our neighbor go and will miss him, we wish him well in his new, more animal-friendly home and we just want him to know that he's free to move back in under our deck any time.

Happy Easter!

Artist: Mario Manzella
2nd Grade