The Appointments - PART 2
Appointment 8: Mammogram and MRI - 4 Feb
Have you ever had a mammogram? Probably not if you are a dude or if you are under 40 as young women never get Breast Cancer! Yeah Right! Well this is another instance where I am unable to give the play by play as I was looking away. Mammograms aren't by any means gory, but it is just a bit horrendous watching your boobs getting flattened like a pancake. It is really freeeeeaking PAINFUL but thankfully it doesn't last too long.
After arriving, I was led to a room and asked to slip into one of those blue robes. The young technician then lodged my boob onto the bottom part of the boob squishing machine, manoeuvred my body and arm, then lowered the top part and pretty much squished my boob to death. She then ran around to the screen and took a snap before running back. She did this both vertically and horizontally so I had to bare 4 outrageous squishing attacks.
I then waited 10 minutes before getting ushered into another room for my MRI. I have seen loads of MRIs on TV and they always make it look soooo serene as the patient glides peacefully into the machine. WELL, let me tell you - there was nothing serene about it!
I was placed face down and had to lower my boobs into this boob-shaped foam thing. They then covered me with a blanket and gave me some big headphones so they could talk to me as well as play some music. My head was face down but there was a little mirror on my headrest so I could still see my arms stretched out in front of me, giving me a great view of the nurse sticking a needle into my arm. AWESOME. The scan began and what ensued for 30 minutes was a combo of what sounded like jack hammers, chainsaws and those aliens from War of the Worlds, with the sound of Rihanna to top it all off.
20 minutes into the session, the nurse inserted some dye into my arm which felt cold going up my arm and left a metallic taste in my mouth (mmm delish). The point of this is to provide a contrast to improve the accuracy of the examination. Overall I wouldn't rate the experience too highly. No, definitely not.
Appointment 9: Hormone Results - 6 Feb
Two days later I popped in to see the doc to get the addendum from my biopsy which would have my super important hormone results. Doctor Susan handed over the updated report which I then glanced over. Ummmm lady wait a minute, what does Metaplastic mean? She was incredibly vague and looked a little nervous saying that it was a slightly less common cancer. Basically she told me NOTHING, leaving it up to the specialist to give me the full break down the following week. So OBVIOUSLY I went home and googled every new and freaky word on my 'updated' report. I also got Cancer Coach Mitchie on the ringer and sobbed to him for a solid hour about the terrible statistics and that the end was NIGH! He 'there there'd' me before reassuring me that all internet statistics are BULLSHIT and that I would live to tell the tale.
Appointment 10: Specialist - 9 Feb
That Monday I went back to the specialist with the Colombian in tow. The MRI results were sent to the doctor that morning so we had all the info to set the new game plan. Well the MRI didn't reveal anything groundbreaking (so $800 well spent then) but the hormone results were indeed bad news. So the plan was still to have surgery to remove it, but due to the nature of the beast I would now require the dreaded CHEMO.
My parents met with an Oncologist in Cape Town who confirmed the same thing so the decision was made to go back home. I was contemplating staying in Sydney but chemo was always going to be the deal breaker.
The next few weeks were spent closing up a shop that I had only just set up. I had to find a replacement for my room in my beautiful North Bondi pad, I had to say goodbye (for now) to the 'dream' job, I had to bid farewell to my newfound Sydney buddies and I of course had to squeeze in every precious moment with the Colombian.
Appointment 11: Chat with my GP - 23 Feb
During those last few weeks in Sydney, I entered the phase fondly known as Denial. I started having dreams that they had made a big mistake and this started spilling over into real life. I got really worried about going home and having a boob chopped off when, in fact, I did not really have cancer. I also got nervous about telling too many people about my diagnosis because boy would it be awkward when it turned out I was totally cancer-free! The denial got so bad that I even went to my doctor to ask if they had perhaps made a mistake. Doctor Sharon looked at me awkwardly and said that the ultrasound, mammogram, MRI and biopsy made the diagnosis pretty conclusive. Surprisingly, this still didn't totally confirm it in my mind.
Appointment 12: Surgeon Take 1 - 27 Feb
A few days after arriving in Cape Town I met with my general surgeon. He briefly looked over all my reports and we had a detailed discussion about the option of either a lumpectomy or a mastectomy, a decision that had been weighing heavily on me since my diagnosis. He took an additional ultrasound and then asked me to return the following day so he could take an in-depth look at all my reports and scans and give me some guidance as to what route I should take.
Appointment 13: Surgeon Take 2 - 28 Feb
We returned the following day and he said that looking at the recent ultrasound, it seemed that the cancerous area was a bit bigger than what was outlined in my initial reports. Due to the size of the tumour and the location (very high up on my chest) he said that from an oncological as well as an aesthetic perspective, a mastectomy would be required. Wahooooo, decision made! Thank fuck for that!
Appointment 13: Plastic Surgeon Take 1 - 3 March
This appointment was terrible. It is was the hottest day in over 100 years and by this stage I had entered the Anger phase so it was bad times all round. The very nice plastic surgeon asked me what I knew about mastectomies and in my head I was like 'THAT IS WHAT YOU SHOULD BE TELLING ME'. We discussed all the various kinds of mastectomies: bilateral, unilateral, simple, total, radical, modified radical, nipple sparing, skin sparing...who knew there were so many options. Then he dropped the bomb...my nipple would not be spared. After all my internet research I thought I would 100% have a nipple by the end of this. I can't actually recall the reasons due to a slight ANGER BLACKOUT but I think it was something to do with my type of cancer and surgical protocol in South Africa. I sat on the bed FUMING as he inspected and photographed my boobs; drops of sweat rolling down my chest and hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
Appointment 14: Plastic Surgeon Take 2 - 5 March
It's amazing how quickly people can bounce back after a bit of a blow, how quickly people can adapt and deal with whatever is thrown their way. After being told that I would be losing my nipple, I went home angry (and very sad) as hell. But I went onto YouTube, watched a whole lot of horrendous post-mastectomy videos, did a whole lot of reading about the process and, well, I got over it.
Two days later I went back to the doctor feeling calm and together. I asked him about nipple reconstruction, I asked to see some before and after pictures and I also told him that I had chosen to have a tissue expander so to get the best results. Just to explain...a tissue expander stretches the skin and muscle so to create enough room for an implant. This meant that I was choosing to be boobless with weird bits of flappy skin and a massive scar where my nipple was, until after my chemotherapy (a good 6 months or so later) when I would undergo a second surgery to remove the expander and insert the implant. This would then be followed by another surgery to reconstruct my nipple from my skin.
On top of this I also made the big decision to have a unilateral mastectomy, meaning that I would just be having my cancerous boob removed. Soooo many people said to just 'get a double mastectomy' like it was no big deal. My doctor assured me my right boob was fine and that there was absolutely no reason to believe that the cancer would recur in that breast. So when it came down to it; I couldn't bare parting with something that wasn't attacking me, I couldn't bare the thought of losing all sensation, I couldn't bare the thought of being in double the pain post-op, I couldn't face twice the psychological impact and I couldn't lose the opportunity to breastfeed (if i can actually have kids after this). I also had a lot of faith that my surgeon was amazing and would help my boobs look as similar as possible.
He then measured my boobs, we went through a few more details, I apologised for my meltdown on the Tuesday, he walked me out and I said that I would see him the next day, ready for surgery!
Have you ever had a mammogram? Probably not if you are a dude or if you are under 40 as young women never get Breast Cancer! Yeah Right! Well this is another instance where I am unable to give the play by play as I was looking away. Mammograms aren't by any means gory, but it is just a bit horrendous watching your boobs getting flattened like a pancake. It is really freeeeeaking PAINFUL but thankfully it doesn't last too long.
After arriving, I was led to a room and asked to slip into one of those blue robes. The young technician then lodged my boob onto the bottom part of the boob squishing machine, manoeuvred my body and arm, then lowered the top part and pretty much squished my boob to death. She then ran around to the screen and took a snap before running back. She did this both vertically and horizontally so I had to bare 4 outrageous squishing attacks.
 |
| Owwwwwwwwww! |
I was placed face down and had to lower my boobs into this boob-shaped foam thing. They then covered me with a blanket and gave me some big headphones so they could talk to me as well as play some music. My head was face down but there was a little mirror on my headrest so I could still see my arms stretched out in front of me, giving me a great view of the nurse sticking a needle into my arm. AWESOME. The scan began and what ensued for 30 minutes was a combo of what sounded like jack hammers, chainsaws and those aliens from War of the Worlds, with the sound of Rihanna to top it all off.
20 minutes into the session, the nurse inserted some dye into my arm which felt cold going up my arm and left a metallic taste in my mouth (mmm delish). The point of this is to provide a contrast to improve the accuracy of the examination. Overall I wouldn't rate the experience too highly. No, definitely not.
Appointment 9: Hormone Results - 6 Feb
Two days later I popped in to see the doc to get the addendum from my biopsy which would have my super important hormone results. Doctor Susan handed over the updated report which I then glanced over. Ummmm lady wait a minute, what does Metaplastic mean? She was incredibly vague and looked a little nervous saying that it was a slightly less common cancer. Basically she told me NOTHING, leaving it up to the specialist to give me the full break down the following week. So OBVIOUSLY I went home and googled every new and freaky word on my 'updated' report. I also got Cancer Coach Mitchie on the ringer and sobbed to him for a solid hour about the terrible statistics and that the end was NIGH! He 'there there'd' me before reassuring me that all internet statistics are BULLSHIT and that I would live to tell the tale.
 |
| Waaaaaaaaa Wa Wa |
That Monday I went back to the specialist with the Colombian in tow. The MRI results were sent to the doctor that morning so we had all the info to set the new game plan. Well the MRI didn't reveal anything groundbreaking (so $800 well spent then) but the hormone results were indeed bad news. So the plan was still to have surgery to remove it, but due to the nature of the beast I would now require the dreaded CHEMO.
My parents met with an Oncologist in Cape Town who confirmed the same thing so the decision was made to go back home. I was contemplating staying in Sydney but chemo was always going to be the deal breaker.
The next few weeks were spent closing up a shop that I had only just set up. I had to find a replacement for my room in my beautiful North Bondi pad, I had to say goodbye (for now) to the 'dream' job, I had to bid farewell to my newfound Sydney buddies and I of course had to squeeze in every precious moment with the Colombian.
Appointment 11: Chat with my GP - 23 Feb
During those last few weeks in Sydney, I entered the phase fondly known as Denial. I started having dreams that they had made a big mistake and this started spilling over into real life. I got really worried about going home and having a boob chopped off when, in fact, I did not really have cancer. I also got nervous about telling too many people about my diagnosis because boy would it be awkward when it turned out I was totally cancer-free! The denial got so bad that I even went to my doctor to ask if they had perhaps made a mistake. Doctor Sharon looked at me awkwardly and said that the ultrasound, mammogram, MRI and biopsy made the diagnosis pretty conclusive. Surprisingly, this still didn't totally confirm it in my mind.
Appointment 12: Surgeon Take 1 - 27 Feb
A few days after arriving in Cape Town I met with my general surgeon. He briefly looked over all my reports and we had a detailed discussion about the option of either a lumpectomy or a mastectomy, a decision that had been weighing heavily on me since my diagnosis. He took an additional ultrasound and then asked me to return the following day so he could take an in-depth look at all my reports and scans and give me some guidance as to what route I should take.
Appointment 13: Surgeon Take 2 - 28 Feb
We returned the following day and he said that looking at the recent ultrasound, it seemed that the cancerous area was a bit bigger than what was outlined in my initial reports. Due to the size of the tumour and the location (very high up on my chest) he said that from an oncological as well as an aesthetic perspective, a mastectomy would be required. Wahooooo, decision made! Thank fuck for that!
Appointment 13: Plastic Surgeon Take 1 - 3 March
This appointment was terrible. It is was the hottest day in over 100 years and by this stage I had entered the Anger phase so it was bad times all round. The very nice plastic surgeon asked me what I knew about mastectomies and in my head I was like 'THAT IS WHAT YOU SHOULD BE TELLING ME'. We discussed all the various kinds of mastectomies: bilateral, unilateral, simple, total, radical, modified radical, nipple sparing, skin sparing...who knew there were so many options. Then he dropped the bomb...my nipple would not be spared. After all my internet research I thought I would 100% have a nipple by the end of this. I can't actually recall the reasons due to a slight ANGER BLACKOUT but I think it was something to do with my type of cancer and surgical protocol in South Africa. I sat on the bed FUMING as he inspected and photographed my boobs; drops of sweat rolling down my chest and hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
Appointment 14: Plastic Surgeon Take 2 - 5 March
It's amazing how quickly people can bounce back after a bit of a blow, how quickly people can adapt and deal with whatever is thrown their way. After being told that I would be losing my nipple, I went home angry (and very sad) as hell. But I went onto YouTube, watched a whole lot of horrendous post-mastectomy videos, did a whole lot of reading about the process and, well, I got over it.
Two days later I went back to the doctor feeling calm and together. I asked him about nipple reconstruction, I asked to see some before and after pictures and I also told him that I had chosen to have a tissue expander so to get the best results. Just to explain...a tissue expander stretches the skin and muscle so to create enough room for an implant. This meant that I was choosing to be boobless with weird bits of flappy skin and a massive scar where my nipple was, until after my chemotherapy (a good 6 months or so later) when I would undergo a second surgery to remove the expander and insert the implant. This would then be followed by another surgery to reconstruct my nipple from my skin.
On top of this I also made the big decision to have a unilateral mastectomy, meaning that I would just be having my cancerous boob removed. Soooo many people said to just 'get a double mastectomy' like it was no big deal. My doctor assured me my right boob was fine and that there was absolutely no reason to believe that the cancer would recur in that breast. So when it came down to it; I couldn't bare parting with something that wasn't attacking me, I couldn't bare the thought of losing all sensation, I couldn't bare the thought of being in double the pain post-op, I couldn't face twice the psychological impact and I couldn't lose the opportunity to breastfeed (if i can actually have kids after this). I also had a lot of faith that my surgeon was amazing and would help my boobs look as similar as possible.
He then measured my boobs, we went through a few more details, I apologised for my meltdown on the Tuesday, he walked me out and I said that I would see him the next day, ready for surgery!
Good luck Jen. x We are all thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteThanks Tash! 😘
DeleteJen... I have no words. You are so strong. Thanks for sharing this honestly and for always keeping it so real! Thinking of you always. X
ReplyDeleteLove u mush-dog! Xx
Delete