Doctor's Checking Out Their Work

Every surgeon regardless of their speciality is proud of their 'work'. Sort of like when a child comes home from school and get's an 'A' on their art or science project. They immediately want to put it on display for everyone to see, 'see what I did, look how great that looks'. Those of us not in the medical field most likely would not think so, as I was sporting around the alien and the pretator. There were all sorts of colors going on as well, like a box of crayons. I was an art project, well at least the surgeons thought so.

I was not able to drive at all, so my loving sister took me. My sister has a few phobias' thanks to her father, going up elevators is one of them. Thankfully the building was only 2 floors. Sitting in the lobby of the doctor's office this time was less stressful although I knew I was getting more results. You see when you have a surgery such as mine they 'look' for things like cancer and whatever else they can find.

My sister stayed in the doctor's office for all of 20 seconds. She doesn't do doctor's office, I thought about asking one the other patients out in the lobby to sit with me. There was a part of me that was nervous, I knew it didn't spread but there was that voice inside my head going 'prepare for the worse'and what if, things happen ok, I will deal with it I've come this far.

Dr. D. came in with a smile and right away delivered me with a 'your fine, we found nothing!' It became a party in a matter of 5 minutes. Dr. D. called in her assistant 'hey take a look doesn't that look great!' The assistant then called in the original Zen Master of Breasts who had happened to be there, she came in hugged me all exposed, 'oh my goodness they look so good!!!'. This went on for about 20 minutes, I thought about charging anyone else who wanted to come in and look.

I was thankful I was not going to have to go through any chemo or radiation. I did however have to start taking a tamoxifen. A pill I had only heard about, it puts you in menopause, you put on weight, fatigue, leg cramps, mood swings and non-existent periods. I had to meet with an oncologist eventually in order to discuss my treatment options. For now, I was just happy that I made it this far!


Tomorrow: Meet your Oncologist

Recovering at Home

After any major surgery beit outpatient or inpatient all you want to do is go home. The problem is adjusting at home once you are there. I wanted to clean the house and do the laundry every daily things that I did before. Unfortunately I could not and that pissed me off to no end. However, my husband was awesome about everything and even said he didn't know how I did it everyday. We don't have kids, so that probably would have been worse. I had my sister come over and stay with me as well for a backup for my husband. The problem with me is I am like my mom, my grandmother and those who came before me, stubborn! I was willing to do whatever it took to get back to being 'normal'. The thing was I was never normal and never had been so what normal I thought I was going to get back to I will never know! The worse thing was not being able to shower for 3 days. Thankfully, my best friend sent me some nice smelly lotions and body sprays that I could use to make myself feel clean. I used those cloths that they give you to clean yourself in the hospital without water. I didn't feel clean but I smelled clean!

Staying at home doing nothing got pretty old very fast. I had movies, magazines to watch, soap operas because I worked for the soap site, Daytime Confidential so keeping up with faux drama helped and Facebook. My cat was anti-social for the first week I was home because I cutting into her alone time with the house.

A homecare nurse came to see me for the first 3 days I was home. It was interesting speaking to her, she told me her husband was a doctor who had become blind and could no longer practice medicine. I began thinking that I was lucky I was able to correct my medical issues, he could not and that somehow I was going to be ok.


I had some pleasant surprises from my friend, Melissa who came to visit me from New York City and my friend Lisa who came from Washington who brought me pajama's and the book, Eat, Love, Pray by Elizabeth Gibson. It was a nice distraction from the drains and bruised boobs. If you ever want to know what to buy someone after major surgery, buy them new pajanma's and nice smelly bath products!

When I was finally able to get to take a shower, it was more like a 'Lucy and Ethel' moment. I had to wrap myself in plastic grocery bags because I could get the area wet. My husband would rinse me off as I washed. We kepted getting in the way of each other that I just started busted out laughing and then I cried!

Tomorrow: Doctor's Checking Out Their Work

MIA Husband & Nofie

Everyone has that moment when you are just about the fall asleep and then something or someone wakes you up. This was the case the next morning when my mother decided to come early the next morning before work. There the light came through and her voice like so many mornings as a kid. I listened to stories about who knows what I can't remember, didn't matter because there are times when we all need our mommy and this day I did.

The sun was coming out and in walked two women. One smiled and the other one stared. The smiley nurse was Nofie and I have no idea what the other nurses name was because she was not nice, just stared. They seemed to have worked together for a while and were in-sync. Nofie spoke broken English, she gave me my breakfast while the starer marked her chart and stared. Eating breakfast the day after my surgery was not a good idea. My doctors said I could eat a full meal, so I thought well if they said I probably can! Not so! I had french toast, sausage, oatmeal, juice and coffee. Surprisingly nothing stayed down, the doctors were wrong. So then tears began to role down my face, my mommy left, so I called Nofie. Nofie cleaned me up and then said a prayer with me. I am not a religious person, yet I believe in God, but I appreciated all the prayers I could get.

I had a few more visitors, then I called my husband. No answer, I leave a message. I called 20 minutes later, no answer. This went on for a few hours and I was being released at Noon. I began to cry again and dialed my husband, no answer. I then called my father-in-law who thankfully lives nearby and he offered to go over to the house and check on my husband. No answer still by phone. I agreed to call my father-in-law again in 20 minutes, when I reached him he said no one came to the door. Kept calling and calling. I then began to cry more, how could this happen? What if he was in an accident? One starts to panic you know. I then had every person I knew at the Clinic calling my husband at this point we were synchronizing the rings!!

Nofie came in and gave me lunch, she said 'you min well sit, relax, we find husband'. I trusted Nofie at this point she cleaned me up after all and gave me gum to freshen my breath. I have no idea to this day what her accent was, think a cross between Chinese/Spanish/Jamaican. Calling and calling continued for another hour. I began watching reruns of Home Improvement, the hospital had 3 channels news and Home Improvement. I ate my lunch what I could, hospital food is never good regardless of how it smells, it's all a trick to get you to think your eating good food. I kept calling. Then suddenly, the door flew open and my husband said 'I'm the world's worse husband, I can't believe I fell asleep'. I assured him it was ok, but that I would certainly remind him of this later on! Just kidding!

Nurse Starer came in and Nofie followed behind. I introduced Nofie to my husband and I still to this day have no idea what Nurse Starers name was or is. Nofie had home instructions for us, but before I could do anything, she wanted to me to walk around the floor to be sure I was not dizzy and that I could pee. Taking the catheter out by now, I walked around, went over to the bathroom and I peed. Yes victory is mine! We went over on how to change the bandages and drain the drains. I had drains, I failed to mention? Well drains on either side of me, they are clear water bags that are inserted on the side of the breasts so that all the gunk drains out and your responsible for dumping and keeping track of how much came out. Charts and more charts. I had not seen charts since I was in marching band in high school! Then came how to put baceytraycine and the zeloform on my nupples. On my what?

Nofie begins by showing me all the stuff I was going to need and use in a neat little mini-lunch bag. I had the bacitracine which is how it's spelled but how she pronounced it was baceytraycine and putting zeloform (zeroform) on my nupples. I looked at my husband and lipped 'nupple?'. Thinking in my head, oh, nipples, ok made sense. So I took my baceytraycine, zeloform, bandages, charts and cups for my nupples and was released on my way.

Tomorrow: Recovering at Home

Recovering from Divorcing My Boobs

As I lay there all bandaged up in my heavily medicated state, I thought about how women have been defined by the breasts for centuries. I thought about all the women who have gone through this surgery and facing cancer. I then thought about all the women who have gone through this surgery for strictly cosmetic reasons and got pissed off. I sat listening to all the orderlies and nurses discuss what they did over the weekend including one nurse who swore that she would never touch tequila again. One orderly advised her she was probably drinking the cheap kind. As much I wanted to stick around and listen to more drinking stories, I attempted to wave down someone to find out when I was being moved to my room. Unfortunately, my arms were sore from being strapped down from the surgery, so I did my best impression of a mermaid that I could. Thank goodness I will not be trying out for any mermaid parts on Broadway, I would be paid to leave.

I was greeted by a happy yet firm nurse, who told me they were getting my room ready so it was going to be a few minutes. Translation: 'I have no fricking clue, why are you asking me, you'll probably be laying here for a few hours so shut up and close your eyes'. I nodded, that hurt...the nice part was my new parts didn't hurt so much, the rest of me did. I kept thinking I had to go to the bathroom, if someone could just let me go to the bathroom I'll be good and be quiet. Then I noticed I had a catheter. Still a bit groggy, catheter, I know that word, why couldn't I think of it, then it came to be and I became elated!!!! Not since I was in diapers could I just go, but this was better! No mess, no diaper rash, no powder! This was great, I felt so free!!!

What seemed to be a few hours, was probably an hour, I was finally wheeled into my room. Now what has always got me about hospital rooms is why the BRIGHT LIGHTS!!! We are trying to recover not be hauled in for questioning! I asked the nurse to turn the light off and turn on the one above the counter which was nicer and dimer. My husband came in with my bag, he told me he loved me very much and told me he was proud of me. I simply responded "give me my Burts". You see I love Burts Beeswax Lip Balm and it's all I use. So after 8 hours of surgery my lips were sandpaper. Once he gave me my Burts, I did tell him I loved him back and thanked him for standing by me. My mother, sister and friend came in, they were tired. I asked what time it was, apparently it was 6pm, I told them all to go home and rest. Because personally I wanted to sleep, even though I had already slept for 8 hours, I needed more.

Every two hours someone came in to check on me, one nurse gave me something to sleep, but it didn't seem to help. Then at one point the desk nurses were loud, I used my handy buzzer and asked them to close the door. I got a huff from the nurse but she did it anyway. I wanted to say, chop off your boobs lady let's see if you like hearing loud noises!!

Just as I was dozing off, suddenly the lights came on and 6 people walked in! I looked up to see 6 smiley interns, I wanted to punch them all! I decided to go with it and listened. The perky brunette explained that they were part of Dr. D.'s class and they wanted to see how I was doing. One intern fluffed my pillow and another offered to get me water. I decided not to punch those two, they were sweet. As for the others, I had no use. Thankfully they stayed for 5 minutes and left. I was so happy when the lights were out and I could sleep. Again, visitors every two hours so there was no resting. This one nurse told me, 'remember people come to hospitals to be fixed you go home to rest'. That being said, I decided I would not be sleeping for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow: MIA Husband and Nofie

The Day I Divorced My Boobs

Preparing for removing a major part of your body is sort of like relocating to another state. Every little part of my life was effected by this decision, which is probably why people where questioning me. We even got a new couch which needed anyway so that when I wanted to watch television I had somewhere to stretch out and not be couped up in my bedroom. My mother, sister and one of best friends took off of work to be there at the surgery. I didn't see the need for a audience, but after seeing their side of why, I let them come and was glad I did. I made sure I had plenty of groceries, ginger ale, gossip magazines, taped my soap operas and movies. I even had an outfit picked out to wear, a gray/red DKNY sweat suit outfit that was light and easy to put on. There would be an overnight stay so I made sure I packed a bag. The bag never left my husband's side, I will explain later. The night before, I couldn't eat anything after midnight, so I made just about everything I could to stuff myself so I wouldn't be hungry later. It was a food celebration and I ate every bit of it! I washed it down with a glass of wine. Yes I was allowed and as long as I didn't get drunk.

June 29, 2008 I didn't sleep a lot, I was so excited to rid of my lopsided boobies I was crawling the walls! I had to be at the hospital at 5:30am, so that I could be checked in and taken back by at least 6:30am. I slept maybe 4 hours, but I figured I would be doing a lot of sleeping all day so it didn't matter. I got up at 4:30am, washed my face, got dressed and looked down my shirt and said "goodbye bad boobies!"

The waiting room of the surgery center at the main campus of the Cleveland Clinic is a very organized zoo! They have beepers, people with pagers, television screens that lists the patients names so that their loved ones can follow their progress and know where they are at all times. I was especially impressed how awake the assistant's were at that hour of the morning. I checked in and hung out with my family and husband for about a half hour. My name was called and my husband was able to go with me to sit for a bit until I was wheeled out in the bed. The doors where you go in are all assigned and remind me of the game show 'Let's Make a Deal'. I walked in the door, there is a chair, a bed, a cabinet, computer and there is no door just the nurses station that you are facing. There was more room in a studio apartment then this space but since a person doesn't stay very long it really didn't matter.

I was advised that my friend Don, who was a surgical nurse at the Clinic, arranged to have the top people assist on my surgery. This eased the mind not only of myself, but that of my family and husband. I was also advised that the orderly who would be wheeling me to the operating area, was not able to make it due to laryngitis. Why is that so important? Well, this orderly is known for singing to patients before they go into surgery to sooth nerves. The gentleman I had was just fine, he was polite and gave me warm blankets so that is all that mattered. I said goodbye to my husband, we exchanged how much we loved each other and I was off.

Being wheeled back to the operating area can be a bit intimidating. Sort of remind me of the Willy Wonka Factory only without the sweets. I met all the assistants that Don sent and my cool doctors' meet me with hugs. They all told me how brave I was in what I was doing and that I was in good hands. I don't remember much else as once I was hooked up to the meds, things got blurry. Per my husband it was an 8 hour surgery. The next thing I remember was waking up to a noisy recovery room, wherein my friend Don who was preparing to be in surgery himself, greeted me with a smile. I heard daughter's of the woman next to me tell her she was ok and was wishing someone would say the same to me. I was in pain and began to cry not because of what I did, but because it was noisy and I had so much hooked up to me I looked like I was a science experiment. I looked down at my chest, I had to look, I was patched up really good I could barely see anything but what I did see looked like I had the Alien and the Predator in my chest. Don asked me if I wanted my husband to come back, I told him no as I would meet him my room. For some reason I wanted to be in a dark room when he saw me. Sounds silly but true.

Tomorrow: Recovering from Divorcing My Boobs

Decisions, Decisions and Decisions Part II

Divorce: The legal dissolution of a marriage. A complete or radical severance of closely connected things. The first part of this meaning pertains to people, the second part pertains to inanimate objects. It never occurred to me that one day I would take part in the ritual of severing ties with a part of my body that society has defined women for centuries. Everyone has something they do not like about themselves, nose is too big, hips to wide, big feet, eyes too far apart or close together, hair not curly enough, for me it was always my boobs. I was tall, long legs and curly hair what more can a girl ask for, lopsided boobs were my issue. If I were a piece of wood with a leveler on me, that liquid would burst!

I took my new found decision and wanted to yell it out to everyone! Take out a billboard like Judy Holiday's character did in 'It Should Happen to You'! Sadly I couldn't afford a billboard so I decided phone calls would suffice. Several responses were 'WHAT!!!!' 'Are you crazy?' 'Shouldn't you think this over for a while?' 'This is not the way to go' 'You go girl!!!' 'Do it!!!!' I could understand people's reservations, but it was my body and my disease, I be damned if someone was going to stop me! You see when you are diagnosed with a disease, it becomes your responsibility to handle it as you see fit. It's your right, it's your body, no one can do it for you. Sure you can get advice, weigh all the pros and cons. I did the 'pros and cons' list, the pros won!

A week later I had a follow up doctor's appointment to go over my options since it went so well earlier, mine as well make sure we are both on the same page. Dr. D. walked in, ready with her 'options packets' and I looked at her before she could say one syllable and simply said 'Chop them off!' Dr. D. looked at me and said 'ok! I don't blame you, I would do the same if I had the same diagnosis.' She explained that I would have to meet with a plastic surgeon, that the surgery would take at least 6-8 hours and that recovery would be 6-8 weeks depending on the type of implant I wanted. I didn't know there were options with implants, I always assumed there was one kind, but not at the Clinic, it was the Cleveland Clinic after all, world renowned, I had options! Dr. D. further indicated that I would not need radiation due to the fact that I only had Stage 1 breast cancer and it was found in one area of the breast which was not growing. I was going to have to possibly take tamoxifen or some other therapy drug, but that would be up to my oncologist. I was removing the right breast because I had calcification's in it and I figured why make the it jealous. If the left one is going down the right one is going with it!

Meeting a plastic surgeon for the first time can overwhelm a person. They are very straight forward, yet they do listen, however most already know what you need, it's just they want to hear it from you. So I was advised that I could do regular saline implants which are very common in breast reconstruction or I could do a clinical trial of gummy implants. "Gummy implants?!" I responded, you mean "like gummy bears?" My plastic surgeon nodded, yes. I thought no way! His assistant, Heather brought me in a sample. There were samples! I loved it! You could touch and feel them, like makeup or fabric! I was advised that the Cleveland Clinic was one of four hospitals in the United States to participate in the clinical trial of these implants. The gummy implants were very popular in Europe and women there loved them. Why not, if the Europeans loved them, so did I! I then asked a simply question, "Do they smell sweet? come in flavors?" My plastic surgeon roared! Of course I was kidding but hey I had to ask! I was given a packet on the implants, advised to read it carefully and let him know my final decision in a few days. I took the packet home, read it and surprisingly enough it was easy to understand. Could be that I deal with medical terms on a daily basis as a part of my job, but still I think anyone could understand what the risks were and the positive outweighed the risks. There were very little risks, no leakage, no breaking unless you decided to take a hammer to your chest but I didn't for see that being an issue. There was also another option of doing a TRAM Flap Breast Reconstruction, where they rebuild your breasts with other parts of your body, mainly your stomach and sometime buttock area. Unfortunately this did not sound appealing and there would be more than one surgery. I had to go through some testing such as the BRAC Analysis test to see if I was at high risk or just a person who got cancer. Fortunately I was just a person who got breast cancer as the rest of the population but I was still considered high risk. To this day, that makes no sense to me but I am not a medical professional. I guess it can be compared to someone who had a risky pregnancy with no previous medical issues and then they become high risk. The day I had the test done, the nurse gave me a box, a kit with everything that I needed, it was more like a couple of viles and instructions on where to send it. Actually I just gave the blood and then the nurse did the rest. I was scared of course, the nurse saw it and she began a prayer and gave me a huge hug. I have never seen her again to this day, but she made me feel better.

Before I could get the 'gummy implants', I had to have expanders in, these were implants that would be put in so that my skin could stretch out and my body could get used to a foreign object in my body. There is a magnet inserted in them, as you have to go in for 'fillings' of the saline. The magnet helps the doctor know where to insert the needle for your 'fillings'.

I met with the plastic surgeon and we scheduled the surgery for June 30, 2008. He then sent me for a photo shoot. Yes pictures for the hospital that they use in seminars and for learning. Fortunately I didn't need to worry about my makeup. I was going to be a 'before and after' model. The photography studio being in a hospital is silly but made sense if you thought about it. I did my shoot and was sent on my way. I was grateful and fortunate that my employer was really cool with this decision that I had made. It was uncomfortable and still is discussing my breast issues with them. One must understand, these are a group of men who cringe at the word 'tampon'. All in all they were awesome. I made arrangements for one of my co-workers' to do my job while I was out and I swore I would only be out a month. I read that the heavier a person is who goes through this surgery, has a longer recovery time. I was a semi-healthy weight so I figured I shouldn't be all that bad. I was excited and eager to get started, I just had to wait till June 30, 2008, patience was never my virtue. Before going through with the surgery, I had to have an EKG which was interesting being hooked up to all sorts of wires and go through the usual preop testing. I must of told every nurse at the hospital I came across what I was doing, again Judy Holiday! This decision was going to change my life for the better and I had to go with my gut instincts as my mother always taught me.


Tomorrow: The Day I Divorced My Boobs

Decisions, Decisions and Decisions Part I

I took part in a procedure called 'sentinel lymph node' meaning they remove my lymph nodes to see if the cancer spread. Well it was not volunteer I had to, but it sounds better when I say it that way. Sentinel lymph node sounded like a classical piece of music written by Wolf Gang Amadeus when he had a cold.

The day of the procedure, I was nervous of course, thoughts of what else they could find ran in my head. Again, being my own worse enemy I had to remain true to my title. The lovely thing about this is the day of your procedure, you get to go see a nuclear medicine specialist who is a physician specifically trained in injecting the radioactive dye used for the procedure. The injections are done into the area of the breast where the tumor is, and/or around the nipple areolar complex of the breast. You will then return to the nuclear medicine department a few hours later, and pictures will be taken which show the pathways the dye takes as it leaves the breast. It helps guide your surgeon in identifying the sentinel lymph node. Then you will proceed to the operating room. At the beginning of the operation, your surgeon will inject the blue dye. The unfortunate part of this is, they do not give you anything to put you out or anything to numb the pain. I began shaking and asked for a cloth to cover my eyes. I figured it was my only defense. The physicians assistant held my hand tightly, in a matter of minutes I was telling her my life story and the current events as to what happened so far. She was sweet, caring, kind and even cried with me. I will refrain from going into detail of the pain and the grossness of it all for fear of someone might be eating while reading this blog.

I was wheeled out into a room that look like a set from the Golden Girls. I love that show by the way, reminds me of my grandmother and three aunts. I had to wait nearly an hour till surgery, actually someone had to come get me and the poor physicians assistant was being yelled at by my surgeon on the phone wondering where I was. By now I could have wheeled myself down, if only I had Google maps! Unfortunately, the hospital does not allow you to roam with electronic devices in the hallways. Finally reaching the surgery room I got strapped on the bed. The one thing they in surgery is talk to you when they give you something to put you out. One of the assistants turned out to be my bosses niece. Small world! From that point I fell into a nice deep sleep.

Unfortunately I had to wait 3 days to find out my results, when the day came I took my mom with me. Again living up to the title of 'own worse enemy' I sat in the doctor's office, bouncing my leg up and down. Driving my mom crazy, I began to bounce more like Tigger on crack! By this time, I thought she was going to sit on me. Nancy, Dr. D.'s assistant came in with a huge smile. I looked at her and she said 'it's all clear nothing spread!' I cried and hugged her really tight, I almost fell over! My mom was elated and glad I stopped bouncing.

At this time I was happy and mentally exhausted but knowing that there were more things to come and decisions to be made. I came in contact with an old friend who I had not seen in years and had breast cancer. You see friend told her about me not knowing we knew each other and she gave me her phone number. I called her nervous about what would I say, if I would say the right thing or wrong thing. She gave me the best advice anyone could give a person in my situation, she simply said "get rid of them, you don't need them" them meaning, breasts. I was kind of shocked yet feeling better at the same time at the thought of getting rid of something that had caused me problems all my life. In analyzing it, it was just skin and tissue. People have knee replacements, prosthesis all the time and lead normal lives so why not get a double mastectomy? It made sense, it could give me a reason to have new ones and I'd be at peace with this whole situation. Who wants to be poked and watched for the rest of their lives, all the procedures I went through were worth it but there would be more procedures and treatment. I couldn't handle much more of purple boobs, smashing of the boobs, slicing and dicing no more! I hurried home after my telephone conversation with my friend and advised my husband I was 'chopping them off!'. His eyes were big and he nearly fell over. After coming to, Actually I told him what I was doing and advised him he had no say.


Tomorrow: Decisions, Decisions and Decisions Part II

The Diagnosis

Later that week I had a follow up with the doctor, routine no big deal. One of my best friends, William, drove me to the appointment. I went in the waiting room, thinking I was going to go in and out. William says to me ‘it’s not a good sign when everyone else is going ahead of you.’ That did not sit well with me at all of course, remember the food incident? The nurse calls me back, we chat, everyone is friendly and I am just happy to rid of the papilloma. I notice the nurse is not as chatty as she was when we first met, maybe she’s having a bad day or maybe she knows something about me that is not good? There goes my mind again! I tell myself, your fine, everything is ok you know that.’ Dr. D. comes in and she tells me ‘we have some shocking news.’ What? She continues “we found some cancer.” What? Ever have one of those slow motion moments? I have heard about them from other people but never thought I’d experience one. Some? what is some?! Like you have some food in the corner of mouth?

I feel the tears running down my face I started to breathe heavily and look at her and say ‘am I going to die?’ She looks at me and says “well unless you plan on going out into the street and get hit by a bus, no, your not going to die.” I ask through my heavy breathing and tears, ‘will I loose my hair’ I have always been about vanity, I need to know. There is the possibility of shopping for wigs or scraves or do I bring back the Sinead O'Connor look? So much to think about and do! Finally coming up from the wall of tears, Dr. D. says ‘no I don’t think so.’ She continues, “you have a very low slow grade boob cancer that old ladies get when their 82.” What? Old ladies, 82 years of age? Is this really happening to me? I have old lady boob cancer! Perfect, does that make me a Golden Girl?? Do I have to apply for an AARP card? Dr. D. then explains my options, but who could think of options when I was just told I had cancer! She then tells me they found two tumors that were 3mm and 2mm. Never being good at the metric system, I ask her to draw it. Just knowing it had been in me, then finding out how small they were and how I need to learn the metric system, I began crying again. By the now the poor doctor was trying to calm me down so she had William come in the room. If anyone knew what I was going through right now it was him! He has had enough bad news in his life, he could be a special on Anderson Cooper 360! There I am with the entire box of kleenex all over the place, snot running down my nose and feeling like I just had my heart ripped out of me. William simply says 'your going to be ok' yeah when did you get your medical license! The doctor chimes in, 'he's right.'

I pulled myself together and walk out with my head barely hanging on to my neck. I had to schedule an MRI to make sure it didn't spread. The assistants' at the desk are old enough to be my children. I tell them I need to schedule an MRI. They both look at me like I speak another language. William asks if there was anyway to do it at the main campus. The two assistants' shake their heads at me and before I could begin cursing and choking them, William, says firmly 'call now please'. I remembered I had to call my husband and someone else...who...oh yes my mom! She would like to know I am sure seeing as I am her child and all. It helps to have friends who have connections and can get to people faster. I had my husband paged and he called me. I told him what happened, he said 'I am coming home, I will meet you at home'. I barely dialed my mom, her initial response was 'WHAT WHAT WHAT' I replied "please stop saying WHAT! your not deaf!" She did what any mother would do cry and tell me how much she loved me. We all met up at the house and decided on a plan. There was no way I was going to work, I'd be a mess. First, I needed a drink and food, mostly a drink, darn if I did not have anything in the house! I then decided we needed to get some food and drink. So we decide on PF Changs and had the most expensive lunch probably known to man but worth every penny! The waiter must of thought we were nuts but we didn't care, it was happy hour somewhere!

The next day, I decided to join The Susan G. Komen Foundation. Seeing as I was part of a group now, why not! So I joined and signed up for the message boards. I introduced myself not using my real name as though that made some sort of difference. I got some really nice replies and one lady who kept trying to sell me her juice powder. She kept emailing me and telling me it would be the only thing that would save my life. Then I got one response that stood out 'Welcome to the club that you never wanted to join' I then decided that maybe this will be a group that I visit once a year. God Bless those women but it was so overwhelming I couldn't visit daily.


Tomorrow: Decisions, Decisions Decisions

Waiting and More Waitng

So there I was left with a piece of paper containing a number and a purple boob. I was thinking 'Victoria Secret's got nothing on me! Sexy!' I had to wait three days to call the number. It felt more like 10 days, actually a presidential election is faster than getting test results well not in 2004 but anyway, I wanted to know NOW.

The third day, I wanted to call as soon as I got up and leave 40 messages. I went to work, and drove everyone crazy. The hour of 3pm did not come soon enough, it was like the clock was moving slowly purposely. Finally after the encouragement of my mother, well she simply said, "just call already will you!" I thought I’d call at 3:05pm didn’t want to seem too anxious, but it was more like 3:01pm. The radiology doctor came on the phone, she was cheerful and said ‘you have a papilloma that somehow got into your breast.’ She explained that papilloma’s usually develop in the groin area but she never saw them in a breast. Lovely! It figures this would happen to me. She said wanted me to have it removed, I asked why, she indicated there’s no need to keep it, she had a point. I had to see a breast surgeon who would be performing the surgery to go over what would happen. Papilloma I of course immediately Google it, Papilloma means benign epithelial tumor forming a rounded mass or a wart-like growth with or without a stalk found in either cervical cancer or mouth cancer. WHAT! This lady didn't know her papilloma from a whole in the ground!!! I have cancer! I knew it because Google said so!!!! Great a doctor can't diagnose me but Google can! So I make an appointment to see the breast surgeon. I began living at the Cleveland Clinc, I thought about asking for a room but I knew insurance would not cover it.

The doctor walked in, I thought it was my friend Stephanie from high school! Thank goodness, Stephanie got her medical degree she will fix everything! Stephanie was one of those people you went to when you had an issue because she would know exactly what to say and do. Coming to my senses, I focused and saw it was not her. Dr. D. was nice and very quiet but her assistant, Nancy was hilarious! Nancy had a way about her, we discussed going out drinking afterwards and make fun of people. It was not until later that I found out that Dr. D. was just as hilarious as her assistant, Nancy she just had to warm up to you. Nancy advised me what would happen when I was put under anesthesia. I would have a great sleep and they would do their thing. Then take the papilloma out and slice it like a ham!


The night before the procedure, I was not allowed to eat anything after midnight or take anything to help her sleep. As I stared at the ceiling counting the number of times I worried about things endlessly and then it turned out to be nothing. I could hear my mother telling me I was my own worse enemy. I knew I was luckier than most people, I had the connections to get the care I needed and in some way I felt guilty. Then I realized that most people would take advantage of the connections I had. As the next day approached with only a few hours of sleep, I began to think about the ‘What if….’ The phrase that most people use after getting good news that could have been bad. Decisions would have to be made, and life as I knew would do a 360 degree turn. It would make my life like a Sunday night movie on Lifetime starring Meredith Baxter.


I got up right away, dressed and went on my way to get the papilloma removed! I was nervous never have had to have surgery before, I was not sure what to expect. Like do you speak to the nurse while she takes your blood pressure, how much do you reveal? Or do you crack a joke when she gives you a pregnancy test, even though you know your not because you have your period and a huge mattress between your legs? I thought ‘do I have the right clothes on and if I don’t and do they send me home. I starved myself for nothing! ‘ At least it was semi warm out so I could walk out of the house without a bra, in fact it was one of the first times I walked out of the house without a bra, I felt so Gloria Steinem! Approaching the surgery center, I noticed it was really busy at 6:30am in the morning. What do these people do at night? What time do they go to bed, 8pm? The workers were perky the patients were like veterans at this they had been there before and knew the routine.

The receptionist had perfect makeup on, smelled nice, it was as like going to the grocery store looking like crap and you see everyone who looks better than you. “Hello I’m here for surgery.” “Ok, Mam, please review your personal on these forms, and make any corrections if needed. Once your done take bring to back to me. Oh also, do we have copy of your Will on file?” Stunned, I said ‘no, but I do have one, my husband has a copy.” She replied with her perfect makeup face “yes, well we do not. If you wish we have forms over there you can fill them out. We do have to have it by law in case anything should happen.” I smirked thinking ‘girl I work for the law, if you think your telling me something I don’t know well listen here Ms. Perfect Makeup, I could wipe the floor with you, telling me the law, HA!!!!!’ but I simply replied, “I will make sure you have one on file.”

Sitting down in a waiting room anywhere is never fun regardless of where you are, doctors, dentist, hospital you can be sure to find 5 year old magazines, boring radio station playing or television that the sound is so low that the only way to hear it is to put your ear to the wall. Looking around it appeared there were people there who had it worse than me. Like the lady with 5 x-rays who sounded like she her vocal cords were rusty from too much cigars. It was a plethora of various people all there for one reason, to get cut open and see what’s wrong with all of us! Sort of like a town hall meeting for surgery!

Never having to have surgery in my whole life or broke a bone, I was nervous going in for the procedure. I recalled the one time I sprained my ankle in high school, after imitating the dance team of the marching band. I was in flag corp. even though I knew I could dance circles around those girls, I was much better, I decided the flag corp. would be the best choice. Spraining my ankle was the only time I remember going to the hospital unless you count the time when she was 3 and had pneumonia. Hospitals were never in my vocabulary even with my relatives in the hospital I always avoided them. I think because I thought it was for ‘other people’ not me. The only time I came in contact with hospitals was when I had to get medical records on a case. Considering this was an outpatient procedure, it could not be all that bad. The hospitals outpatient surgery room was a busy little place at 7am, doctors and nursing running around like uniformed soldiers with their pens and gowns. The nurse came in with her basket of fun consisting of needles, blue rubber bands, rubber gloves and band aides. My husband was in the waiting room, playing his PS3. She explained that this was routine, and she asked if I was pregnant and to pee in a cup. The nurse took inserted a needle in me, which I had gotten used to after all this time I was an expert with needles. I had my IV of medication that would make me sleepy which made me loopy at first. I saw Dr. D and Nancy was talking with them one minute and the next I woke up a few hours later in the recovery room, with Kevin smiling down on me and my mouth feeling like I swallowed sand.

It was really hard to wake up, I just wanted to sleep like a little baby, I wanted to stay in the bed, I was comfortable, the blankets were nice and the pillow was soft. The mouth not so much, I swallowed sand as I said before. It was like those cartoon’s where the main character is stranded on the desert coughing, coughing looking for water and can’t find any until they are so delirious they drink a bucket full of leaves! I was fed saltine crackers and ginger ale the diet of all surgery patients. It’s the only thing you can hold down, part of you is really hungry and wants to eat a whole beef roast, but in light of the fact that you would not be able to keep it down, the saltines and ginger ale, are very tasty. I was dozing in and out and in and out and in and out, while my husband was chatting with me and I was listening to the nurse’s chit chat to the other patients. Everything always sounds louder after surgery, even when someone is whispering. I just wanted to yell ‘SHUT UP I AM TRYING TO GET SOME ENERGY TO GET DRESSED AND GET OUT OF THIS BED!!’ Of course that was not possible, but it was a nice thought.

On the way home when I was awake, I asked my husband to pull over and get me some food. He said are you sure, maybe you want to wait till we get home your stomach maybe needs to settle. I said, no honey I really need to eat, I am hungry I’ll be fine. He repeated, at this point I was getting really hungry and was thinking my shoe looked pretty good. Again he repeated, maybe you want to wait till….knowing full well what happens when I do not eat, I looked over at him and with the satanic voice coming out of me ‘PULL INTO BURGER KING AND GET ME SOME FOOD! My husband the nice man pulled into the Burger King parking lot and I got breakfast. I ate it like someone was going to steal it from me, sucked down a soda, burped and went home to bed.

Tomorrow: The Diagnosis

The Itch

This blog is about my experience with breast cancer. It is not intended to give medical advice or proceed with the same as I did. It is to enlighten those who might be scared of getting a mammogram, MRI or visiting their doctor because they might have found something. As always consult with your doctor for options that are best for you! The blog will be featured in sections, so be sure to check in daily!


It was February 26, 2008, my husband and I went to see then Senator Barack Obama speak who was campaigning in Cleveland. We were pumped up, excited and ready to hear one of the best speakers in the universe. Senator Obama spoke of how his mother suffered with breast cancer and I sort of felt I could relate since I had other people in my family who had breast cancer and other types of cancer. When I was 20 I had a scare with my breast, it got infected because I was eating too much cheese I was told. This was 1989 of course and at that time, we did not have the knowledge we have today. So I went about my way, always doing monthly exams. Senator Obama used the word ‘hope’ in his speech, indicating that when we are faced with fears in life we can hold onto our faith and hope. After getting home from a great night, I went to get undressed, when I had an itch on my right breast. It was winter, no matter how much lotion you put on, your skin still itches. So I did what anyone else would do, I scratched it and there was something that was not there yesterday, that was not there an hour ago. I screamed! I cried I knew something was not right. My husband held me the entire night and promised to get me into see the doctor right away. That night I thought of every possible scenario, what if it’s something, what if it’s nothing. I was bound and determined to get answers. I remembered a conversation I had with a guy named Dennis, who I worked with at Higbee’s Department Store in cosmetics. I had lump on the side of my neck and was not sure if was a blood clot or tumor or what. He was suffering from Aids at a time when majority of people had no hope whatsoever and had to face the inevitable. He told me ‘to panic after I get the facts, until then don’t panic, trust me I have been there’. So I went with that and saw the doctor.

My husband having his connections got me in to see a doctor within 2 days. I saw a breast specialist, actually she was the top breast specialist at the Cleveland Clinic. She came in, she had flawless skin and long black hair. I knew I was in good hands, this doctor was the best, the Zen Master of Breasts. As she performed her examination I started to recite the lines in movie The Karate Kid ‘wax on wax off’. She moved her hands around and finally looked up and said ‘we need to do more tests I want you to a have a mammogram and MRI. I thought great they will probably find more wrong with me then what I came in here for initially! Sort of like when you take your car into to have the oil changed, they find $2,000.00 more wrong with the car.

Smashing ones boob between two pieces of plastic is every woman’s fantasy, that and having a PAP test. I stood there in my gorgeous hospital gown, while two radiology technicians advised her they were new at this and discussed their plans for the evening. Betty as we will call her, I don’t remember her exact name, but I do know she was more like a librarian then a medical professional and her side kick Martha as I have named her, was more like a biker chic who did shots of gin while smoking non-filtered cigarettes. As they took pictures while I inhaled and exhaled for 30 minutes, Betty pointed at something in the mammogram as Martha shook her head and mouthed the word ‘don’t do that’. Finally being released from plastic hell, Betty and Martha told me to wait for the doctor to come in. Sitting in the dark cold room, I went over every possibility of what this could be, I began to cry. The radiology doctor came, said we need to do a biopsy just to be sure it’s nothing. I cried more, she said thus far we are not sure of anything. She was very caring to this blubbering idiot. Never having a biopsy before I wondered what it entailed, would I be put out or would I be awake? Who would be in the room? How long after for the results? All I wanted to know NOW and now I mean this minute.

On the day of the biopsy I was of course nervous, because the last mammogram two people came into look at me, I wanted to ask for credentials but I figured they are the ones with the degrees.

I sat on the table in my gorgeous gown, talking to Nurse Betty about everything but the elephant in the room. Getting a biopsy done on your breast is a real hoot, sort of like a mechanic working on a car. You lay on your stomach, with your boob in a hole, dangling for everything to see. The table gets raised up and they work on you underneath, all the while your suppose to relax. That is exactly what I did, I thought of meadows, summer nights….uh not even close! I questioned everything they were doing, even when they were writing stuff down that had nothing to do with me. It was good thing I didn’t see what they stuck in me, I was not even shown afterwards or I would not have come back. It was disgusting as well, that suctioning of all the goop that was in the lump, or as the doctor described, ‘like toothpaste’. I wanted to throw up! I was given a number to call back and I will get the results then but I had to call after 3pm in three days. Those three days seemed like 10 days! Worked helped, dealing with people who are not of the right mind sometimes helps one feel better. My husband wanted to take me out to dinner to my mind off of things, so I went to get dressed, my boob was like an eggplant! I screamed! I cried I was scared so I ran to get the paper the radiologist gave me about the ‘if this happens after your biopsy’. I did not even look at it, so I called the number and spoke to a doctor not mine, he was nice yet firm and told me to calm down that it was normal. I thought for sure I’d be going to the hospital and they would have to amputate something.

Tomorrow: The Wait and more waiting....