Going Under the Knife

I was hoping to avoid going public with this, because I kept waiting for good news. But it hasn't yet arrived. Earlier this month, I had a routine checkup at a new doctor (I switched because I left godforsaken Kaiser Permanente). She suggested having some bloodwork done, as well as a mammogram, just as a baseline.

I didn't think twice when they called back and wanted additional images -- I just assumed there was something blurry or left out of the films (even though they're digital and I actually saw them at the time). But when I found out that they were actually looking at a "suspicious area," I got a bit scared.

So they did a spot compression and asked me to wait in the waiting area until they were sure they had images of the area that they wanted. After a while, I overhead someone in reception say, "They want an ultrasound on that Heckman." Now my stomach dropped to my feet. And no one EVER came to tell me what they were doing or why; about 20 minutes later, someone came out and said, "Hi, I'll be doing your ultrasound."

And after that, no one told me if I should wait to talk to someone, or when I'd hear about the results, or if I should call back, etc., etc. I was too nervous to ask anyone about it when I was there, so I called them when I got home. They told me to call back in a few days.

I called them last Thursday, hoping they'd tell me all was well (but not really expecting it). I knew I wouldn't be getting the all-clear when the receptionist told me the doctor would be on the line in just a minute.

The result was that they couldn't see anything on the ultrasound, but there was definitely "a mass" on the ultrasound, and they wanted me to have a biopsy. Okay, now I was in full-on panic. I had been reading about how many false positives there are for women my age (even if it gets to the biopsy stage), but I really, really didn't want it to get as far as the biopsy. Again, I was too scared to ask for more information. Later, I called back and found that it was a 1 cm. mass, so that sounded slightly less scary. But only very slightly less.

My immediate plan was to get and stay drunk until the biopsy, and Andrew administered margarita therapy Thursday night. I got all blubbery and gave him my detailed list of how he'd need to carry out my various missions once I was gone. But Friday morning, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up that level of poison intake for another day.

I called the doc again to arrange to get my films for the surgeon, and they offered to call in "a little something to take the edge off." Friday through Sunday I spent alternating between absolute panic, watching movies and Strong Bad emails DVDs to distract myself, and sparingly dishing out the Xanax. I slept a lot, which is one of my avoiding-upsetting-things tactics.

I met with the surgeon today for a consultation, and basically, the news is neutral. There's something in there, but it's neither a cyst nor a solid mass. It is concerning enough that they want to get in there and find out what it is. I had my choice of a stereotactic biopsy (a kind of needle biopsy) or open surgical biopsy. I opted for the surgical biopsy, because there's a chance that the stereotactic biopsy might be inconclusive or not do-able for various reasons, which would mean scheduling a surgical biopsy anyway, and more of the dreaded WAITING. Also, with the surgical biopsy, they will remove all of the suspicious area, which makes me feel better.

So, on Thursday I'll be checking in at 9 a.m. for the surgery. This is an outpatient procedure, so I'll be home later in the afternoon (although probably not feeling so hot). Prep, surgery, and recovery should take about 3-3.5 hours. From there, well, we'll just have to wait for the pathology report. I'm feeling OK right now, because there are a lot of things in my favor:

• Whatever it is, it's only 1 cm., so even if it's something bad, this is the best possible time to catch it.
  


• I'm going to Providence Hospital, where Andrew had his hip replacement, and I think it's a good place. I would definitely be putting my personal affairs in order if I had to go back to accursed Kaiser Permanente.
  


• The rest of my routine bloodwork and physical exam showed me to be in ridiculously good health otherwise.
  


• The surgeon didn't find anything else suspicious. Just that pesky mammogram image.
  


• I wound up talking to three women in the waiting room who've had cancer, and all were raving about Dr. Lim (the one I'm going to). And, well, they're still alive and all.
  


• And ... it still might be nothing.

So, with all of that in mind, I'm feeling better than I have been over the past few days (especially since I didn't get immediate bad news, like, "OH my GOD! Look at the size of that lymph node! I thought it was a potato!"). The mood is precarious and I'm feeling exhausted, but I'm going to try to do something enjoyable over the next few days.

Now, I really like those before-and-after pictures (makeovers, house remodels, meth addicts, whatever). So for your reference, here's my picture before surgery: