It's been a week since my initial meeting with my primary care physician, Dr. Chen. I'm scheduled for my first ever mammogram today. I have no idea what to expect other than some mild discomfort from my girls being smooshed between the cold plates of the mammogram machine. I can handle this!
I check in to the radiology center and take a seat waiting for my turn. I'm alone since Dale has to work and we think there's nothing to worry about....right? The radiology center is very nice and quiet but not in an awkward way, more like a serene and peaceful way. I feel comfortable right away.
A door opens and my name gets called. I follow the girl to a dressing-like room with nice elegant wallpaper and changing rooms with beautiful drapes. I'm instructed to undress from the waist up and don a gown with the opening facing the front and wait to be called. There are fancy hooks and hangers to leave my clothing on and a mirror. I stare in the mirror for a moment revealing my naked top, getting a good look at the breast with the lump before I'm interrupted by the call of my name.
I slide open the pretty drapes and I'm greeted by a beautiful and gentle woman who is about to perform my mammogram. Her name is Rehhka (pronounced Ray-ka). I like it and her instantly. She is calm and instructive in a kind and caring way. After signing a few documents we get started. She is gentle which is nice because no one wants to be man-handled. She asks me casually if I have any history of breast cancer in the family. This question makes me nervous because even though it's important I'm feeling a degree of paranoia and I start thinking the question is prompted by the discovery of something that would be explained by a family history.
While it is a little uncomfortable to have my boobs squished and smashed, it's mostly awkward (not embarrassing). After she's taken what feels like a plethora of images of both breasts but especially the right one (the one with the jelly bean) she announces we are done.
Now we are going to do an ultrasound. What what?? I'm wondering why are we doing an ultrasound? This has got to mean that something IS wrong. F*ck! Rehhka leads me back to the plush dressing room where I sit and wait behind the curtain. I text my husband but he doesn't respond because unknowingly he had left his phone at home. Grrreat. I'm wishing he had come with me, that someone had come with me. I tell myself to pull it together and I imagine the worst news being delivered to me and remind myself that I am going to be strong and I will not fall apart...not before the news is officially given anyway. Before I can finish anymore text messages I hear my name again, "Mrs. McAllister."
As I open the drapes a new woman is revealed to me. Her name is Shelly. She is tall, young and soft spoken. She is also very gentle and sweet. I feel taken care of by all of the staff here. I'm glad I'm here in a caring place, I just wish someone I knew was with me at this point. I imagine the sensitivity the staff must need when delivering any unwelcome news to patients.
She asks me to lie down on the table next to the ultrasound machine and raise my right arm above my head like you do when you conduct a self exam. She prepares me for the cold jelly that gets applied as she begins the ultrasound. Shelly is quiet while she works. Do you have a family history of breast cancer she asks me. No, I reply and in my head I keep thinking they must be seeing something. The ultrasound wand, moves and stops and moves and stops. She readjusts and starts again.
The paper on the table underneath me is crinkly and I'm keenly aware of all my senses. I hear the tapping of her typing with the other hand. The room is dimly lit with one small yellowy light in the center of the ceiling which I have been fixated on since the ultrasound began. This little light figuratively draws me away from the table I'm lying on. I am lost in my thoughts. I practice biting my tongue to cause enough pain that I won't cry when the urge reveals itself.
Alright, she says. I'm going to wipe all this jelly off and you can sit up and cover up. I'll be right back with the doctor. Sh*t! Why is the doctor coming to see me? F*ck! This must be bad. Buck up Melissa, it's nothing I whisper in my head. Sh*t! I wish Dale was here...
The door opens. "I'm Dr. Sim, nice to meet you." She has me lie down again and examines by right breast with the ultrasound herself, exploring my underarm checking for anything near my lymph nodes. She doesn't see anything there which I'm guessing is a good thing. She explains to me that she can both feel and see the jelly bean lump I've described. But...in addition to that they have found several calcification sites that are of concern to her. Because of this she recommends I have a few biopsies. A few? You're going to need an ultrasound guided biopsy of the lump and two different stereotactic biopsies of the calcifications.
I have no idea what she is talking about so I ask, what is a calcification in the breast? Well she explains, they are little deposits. Some are nothing to worry about. Others can be a sign of cancer. Taking a biopsy will help us determine the type of cells they are. She gave me this example: if you live in a neighborhood, every house puts out their trash on the same day, but then someone new moves into the neighborhood and if you want to know what's going on in the house, you can take a glimpse into their trash and find out a lot about what happens in that house. So we need a biopsy to find out what's going on in these particular cells in my breast. It made sense.
All those little specks are Microcalcifications
Shelly lead me back to the dressing room where she placed her hand on my arm and said you'll meet with our navigator now. She'll help you schedule these procedures and if you have any other questions about the process she's your contact. All I kept thinking was I can't believe this is happening. Am I really hearing this all right? Before she left me, I asked her softly, will I be awake for the biopsies? I was so afraid of being cut. She said yes, but you'll be okay, they'll numb your breast so you don't feel it. And it's just precautionary. Usually these things turn out to be nothing to worry about she advised me. I could tell she was trying to ease my mind. It was her job to do that. But I saw her eyes, and they silently told me she knew something was not right.
I dressed and waited again for my name to be called. Marjorie brought me back to her office. She is the navigator. She explains the procedures and reassures me they usually result in benign and non-cancerous lab results. She schedules my three, yes THREE biopsies to take place all in one visit in one week. I am really starting to feel like I'm having an out of body experience at this point. I'm fighting back any tears and I keep sensing they all know something I don't. I leave the center and head to the car.
I can't begin to process all of this information. Sitting in the car I'm barely able to make a decision about driving, calling anyone or anything. So I cried. I cried and cried. Not a sobbing, blubbering cry. It was just straight tears running down without control while my face and body remained in this stoic state of shock. How do I explain this to anyone? Is this really happening to me?
Sitting in the car after the news that I needed biopsies..scared and sad.
Between finishing my appointment and picking Dale up from work I tried to kill the time. I had lunch with Leah and the baby. I did some retail therapy. Two pairs of sunglasses, lots of baby clothes for Jace and a Pandora Charm later I find my way back to reality. I don't like my reality right now. I'd rather be shopping and avoiding my feelings.
Only a few hours after my appointment was over I arrived at Dale's work, unable to wait any longer to speak to him and having no clue why he isn't answering his phone. I've never actually gone inside my husband's place of work. It's a surgery center...go figure. I am still in a daze and I'm sure I look bizarre. I walk up to the reception desk of the surgery center and ask if my husband is available by his first and last name because they have no idea who I am at the front desk. Predictably they ask me who I am and I reply, his wife. Oh! they say and someone quickly goes to the back to get him.
Dale emerges in scrubs from head to toe, having just completed a procedure and he is surprised to see me. He asks me if everything went alright at my appointment, but I know he already has an idea that it didn't since I'm actually standing here. No, it wasn't alright I said softly. I have to have three biopsies next week. I know he was stunned and he quietly but quickly gathered his things and left for the day with me.
As soon as we were together and alone I began to cry. I was scared. He was scared. But he just kept reassuring me everything would be okay and that we would get through it together. The entire ride home in the car Dale's hand was cemented to my knee and it didn't move until we arrived home. It was all I needed in that moment.
That night, Dale made all the calls to our parents to let them know what was about to happen. I couldn't bare sharing the news. He was strong when I couldn't be. He was revealing one more facet of what marriage was really about. The part about sickness and health. We'd already done the richer or poorer part.
I know we will only be stronger because of this I remind myself quietly. Most importantly he helped me focus on one step at a time. We will only think right now about the next appointment, the next move. We won't allow ourselves to succumb to the fear of the unknown and the worry that comes with thinking too far ahead. It was good advice.
One week to the biopsies. I can do this!
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