Ann, from my blog, about finding out I had bc from my surgeon who told me before surgery he was 95% sure I didn't have bc...but I knew he was wrong.
December 15, 1998 5:00p.m. hubby and I are driving to dr. god's office to get the results of the biopsy. I was going to drive down by myself, but mom insisted she could watch the girls so Danny could go with me. It has been over a week of waiting and phone calls, I call the office everyday, and no one will talk to me. My sil's dad (remember he's the head of pathology) doesn't call. I've always felt bad for him carrying around that burden and not being able tell anyone, but it was just more confirmation that the truth is, bad news is coming.
I'm still feeling very protected by God and his angels. I feel like I have a force field of love surrounding me. On the car ride, I turn on the radio and this song is playing, I just smile and cry...
Angel -Sarah McLachlan
When we see dr. god, I was expecting him to go straight to giving me the news, but no, he takes his time removing the stitches, an excruciatingly loooong time. Finally, he brings out the pathology report. He won't even look at me, he talks to Danny like I'm not even in the room. Maybe that's his way of coping, or maybe he hates to be wrong and can't face me - whatever, it sure doesn't help me any. There's a big stamp on the report that says ALERT MALIGNANT CASE and it goes on and on for pages. I read once that if your pathology report is more than a paragraph long, you're in trouble - no kidding. dr. god goes on adressing Danny instead of me, telling him in a way that makes me think of being told you're just a "little pregnant" that I indeed had breast cancer. But, it was teeny tiny, .08cm
http://region4.tricare.osd.mil/breast_health/pathology.html#size and I was stage 1 so I wouldn't need chemo and I wouldn't lose my hair or my breast, I'd just have radiation, which would only make me a little tired and I'd be just fine and wouldn't die of it. Then he goes on to tell me that I just need one more surgery, because I still had dirty margins
http://region4.tricare.osd.mil/breast_health/pathology.html#margins and to check my lymph nodes, but it's such a small tumor, there won't be cancer there, but we have to check anyway. I swear that's what he said, I know I can hear you survivors just shaking your heads. Yeah right. But it worked on hubby, hey who doesn't want to hear his wife has cancer but it's not that bad?
I have the presence of mind to ask for a copy of the report and he makes me an appointment to schedule the next surgery, and gives me the phone number of an oncologist.
We drive to mom and dad's house, me numb, Danny feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I just start crying and told him, "Don't you get it, he just told us I have cancer, and I know it's not going to be that simple." When we get to my parent's house, I just nod my head and they cry and hold me. My Dad cries and says I'm gonna beat this thing. My dad is an ex marine, he never cries so that really freaks me out. We don't stay long, and drive the kids home.
I asked Danny to make the phone calls, I'm not up to it, I didn't even want to listen in. The girls and I climb into my bed and watch Muppet Treasure Island. My mind is reeling, and I'm feeling really strongly that I don't want to see dr. god again. I don't want him to do another surgery on me. I cry and worry that I'm not going to be around to raise my kids, they're so little, they won't even remember me. They'll need a mom, but I don't want anyone else to be their mom but me. Danny needs a wife, but I don't want anyone else to be his wife but me. I haven't felt sick until now. I don't get any sleep that night. I'm in survival mode. If you don't die from the news that you have cancer, you're a survivor! I have to start my crash course tomorrow, Cancer 101. I have to prepare for battle, and my God and my family are my secret weapons.