So since some of you only keep up with me here on the innernets, let me bring you up to speed a bit.
Last Thursday, I dropped the news I had breast cancer. What followed was a weekend of waiting for a phone call from my doctor on Tuesday with news of what to pursue next.
It was a very long weekend. I'm sure you can imagine.
Tuesday came and finally around 5:30 the doctor called. All the doctors were present at the Breast Cancer Conference, all looked over my files, discussed the beast that is breast cancer, etc.
They found my cancer because I had a breast reduction. Which means that the tissue they removed had tiny clusters of tumors. The largest mass was 1.2 cm. That's roughly the size of a blueberry. But because my tissue is gone, they cannot assess whether or not I have what's called "clean margins". Meaning, they can't find out whether or not the tissue around where the mass was is clear of cancer. So my case is really weird. And a little hard to know how to handle it.
I saw a general surgeon yesterday afternoon. He was very aware of my case and told me that I fall into like, 1% of odds and weirdness of getting this cancer. Yeah, you're telling me, doc.
But, there is some good news, yet again. I have what's called Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Which means that the cancer started in a milk duct and began to spread. That's where the word "invasive" means. It's a bit aggressive, which is where all this hoopla began and words like "radical mastectomy" started getting thrown around. But IDC is the most common type. If I had to choose which kind to get, it would be this one, because it's so common. They know how to treat it.
So today I'll have an MRI on my breasts to see if they find any more clusters of tumors. If you've not had an MRI, it consists of laying on your belly on this table that they insert into a tiny tube for more than half an hour. Claustrophobia, anyone? I'm hoping I nap or something. But the really icky part for me is that I'll have to lay on my belly the whole time, my boosies smooshed up against the table, which is really really painful after having a breast reduction. I'm just hoping I don't sob too hard.
But, the reality is that the safest and fastest way of taking care of this whole cancer thing is to go ahead with a full mastectomy. In fact, if I choose that, it will make having this MRI unnecessary. Which is really lame.
I can even have the mastectomy as early as next week. Which means I'll have had my perfect, dream boosies for approximately 2 weeks before I look like a boy.
It gets better.
So, when you have BC, they test it for recepters, which helps them to know the cause as well as how to treat it. I am Estrogen/Progesterone Receptor positive, which means that all the estrogen and progesterone in my body were like fertilizer to my cancer. So I'll be put on meds that will put me into early menopause.
I didn't take that news so well. I think I can handle the no-breasts thing. I think I'm strong enough. But to be told that not only my breasts would be gone but my life as a young adult woman, taking my...idk, my femaleness away...it was just a little too much to bear at the moment.
Thankfully, I have support all around me. My Hubs, who has been at my side this entire time, letting me squall on his shoulder, letting me rail and rant and wave my hands, letting me just deal with this...he is so amazing. My friends and family, who do not cease to send me words of comfort.
And I know that boosies and periods don't make a woman. But just think, that's all I've ever known. And I'm being thrust onto this road of the unknown. And it's dark and scary and out of my control.
But God is still good. I'm amazed by how fast the doctors are setting up these appointments and procedures. I'm amazed by how much love everyone is showing me.
But it's still just...lame. It'll probably take me awhile to really wrap my head around the whole thing. I feel like I'm about to change. And change is hard at first, it's not something we really ask for. We just deal with it when it comes. This is definitely the biggest thing I've ever been through. I just hope I'm better for it when it's all said and done.
The Love Interest
5 hours ago
12 comments:
Conan O'Brien, of all people, said something really profound in a commencement speech he just did for Darmouth (sp?) he said, "there is nothing more liberating than coming face-to-face with your worst fear." Of course he was talking about losing his entire career, which is kinda peanuts to your situation, but, it taps into the "unknown" and loss of control, yet at the same time it opens you up to a new world that hass experiences and blessings you would have never known without it. You will change Kearsie, in so many ways. And while it will feel like hell a lot of the time, you will be better for it. And you are gonna kick cancer's ass. And when it's down I'll stomp on it for ya while you sit back and grin. love to u.
First of all? I heart Kim and I might start stalking her too. It worked for making you and Vanessa be my friends, and I love what she has to say so I want to be friends with her now too.
More importantly, I remember that day in McDonalds, when we talked about Faith, and God's plan, and what that had looked like for you up until then. That day, your story touched my own faith in a way that I have never forgotten, and it changed me for the better. I think that all of this cancer garbage is giving you (and your family) a whole new platform to reach people. Granted, it's an awful, painful, emotional platform that no one would ever choose, but you're on it, nonetheless. I believe in your ability to fight this, to be stronger for having fought this, and ultimately drawing yourself, your family, your friends and even people you don't know, closer to Him. I'm so sorry that you face this, but you do not face it alone. You are well loved my friend...
Even without boosies, you will be my bosom buddy, Kears. <- that's me trying to be funny but also sincere, because I love ya and every single one of my uplifting, glittery, sparkly thoughts is going your way.
Sending positive and healthy thoughts your way, Kearsie. And thank you for sharing your story.
Kim said it perfectly. :-)
Oh sweet Kearsie,
I am so sorry! But what a blessing that they found the cancer before it traveled further! I will be praying for you and looking forward to positive reports!
Love you!
I wish there was something I could do for you like send you cookies or something. I want to give you a big hug!! I'm so sorry you have to deal with all of this, but I am glad that you are surrounded by supportive family and friends who love you. Please keep us updated!
Kearsie--I am so thankful that you had that breast reduction surgery, and that this horrible cancer was discovered. I know you are in this whirlwind of information and emotion and tornado like life right now. And that people expect you to make life altering decisions while inside the tornado. That everything is changing right now.
If you can take a deep breath, and know that everything will be okay, and that in the moments that things are not okay, that you will be carried by family and friends, and virtual strangers (like me), and we will all help you get through this.
PLEASE keep reaching out and letting us know how you are doing, what you need, and how we can help. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I. Love. You.
Thank you Kim, well said. Love you girl! You got this.
We have a few similarities with this beast, but my lumps were a little larger. I have questions. :) Of course. But will finish reading before I bombard ya. :)
I don't comment but I guess this calls for it. All I can say is eff - that sucks. But sounds like you are in great hands and you are going to beat this. Thoughts to you.
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