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
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