I am optimistic. I am sure everything will be fine. I am not saying I don't think I have cancer. I do. I am still sure that everything will be fine. They said this biopsy procedure was no big deal, they just stick a few needles in take out some tissue and off it goes to the lab. They suggested I might want to take it easy for the rest of the day after the procedure but then I'll be fine.
I arrive Tuesday at 8:30 for a core biopsy with ultrasound and a sterotatic biopsy. What seems like 43 pages of permission and explanation later, and a few random tears while they are explaining everything that could possibly go wrong. Then I ask a question, "I have a session with my trainer scheduled Thursday at 6:45 a.m. to lift, I'll be all right by then right?"
Just a glance and then the tech says, "you aren't supposed to lift anything heavier than 5 pounds for the next 48 hours. You know you might be kind of sore. You are getting two biopsies."
The first biopsy is the ultrasound one for the mass. And I wish I understood the tool they used, it THUMPS. Really, they stick this needle and then count to three and then they push something and it thumps like three times. They do this six times. And even though my breast is numb, I think man, I'm gonna be sore and bruised. I make plans to cancel my trainer for Thursday.
Then we change rooms and we go to the stereotactic biopsy table, which is done while you are getting a mammogram because they can't "see" the calcifications. It is the strangest medical procedure I have ever had (well yet anyway). They lay you flat on a table with a hole where you breast goes through. Then they lift the table electronically so they can work under you. Then they poke and pull the breast into the right place, numb it again, push the mammogram into place, take some pictures and then poke you with some 6 pronged instrument. (ok, some Boynton childhood book keeps coming to mind, udderly ridiculous... I keep coming back to that mental image).
The strangest sensation was that one of the women was patting me on the back the whole time while they were working. I know she was being comforting but mostly I was thinking stop touching me, I just want to be done.
Then they are done and the doctors leave and the techs are there and I just hear them keep asking each other for more gauze, more gauze to stop the bleeding. They finally lower the table and as I step off I see a petri dish filled with my bloody tissue. My brain is screaming, THEY said it was only going to be a LITTLE. It looks like 1/4 of my breast.
The radiology fellow will call me with the results in 24 hours. I'm shaking so badly I can hardly get dressed. Ken is there waiting. He has been waiting for hours. I think this is worth another trip to Portillo's. This time I'm having a cheeseburger. I haven't had that in months. When I'm done home and resting I think I am going to throw up. Ok, so this food isn't making me feel better.
I am so sore for the next 24 hours I can't lift my arm. Ken has to help me dress. I start the entire series of West Wing again from the first year. I make it through 4 episodes.
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