Are we out of the woods yet?

Preface:
These past two weeks I had been dealing with a medical scare, which has since been resolved. I found some lumps in my right breast. I got them checked out first by my oncologist, and then by my breast surgeon in Hershey, where I had an MRI and an ultrasound. Neither the MRI nor the ultrasound showed any evidence of disease. Apparently my right implant has shifted, which is normal. The lumps I felt were either folds in the implant, fat necrosis or tiny bumps that form around stitches, as described by the doctors. The MRI also showed no sign of a leak or break in my implant, which means I can keep my January appointment to see my plastic surgeon, and don't need to schedule him sooner. The lumps, as per the doctors, are not likely to go away.

Needless to say, these past two weeks had been pretty close to hell. I didn't want to publish anything on the blog until we had some answers. And now I do and I can move on.

I had a health scare. And this is, unfortunately, a typical part of life after breast cancer and life with LFS.

I'll see my breast surgeon in 6 months for a breast exam, and have another breast (full body + brain) MRI in December for my NIH clinic.

The two posts that follow capture how I was feeling these past two weeks.

Again, I'M IN THE CLEAR AND I'M THANKING G-D.


Written Oct. 22:

I wasn't going to write this post and/or publish this post. But I am writing it; maybe I won't publish it. (Or maybe I will).

Anyway, over the weekend, between myself and Sean, we found two lump/bumps in my right breast. The first one he noticed I quickly brushed off as being "probably just the implant." We had a talk about it the next day - I'm seeing my gyno in November, she can do a breast exam, plus I've got my body exam and body MRI in December at the NIH. NBD. Sweep it under the rug. 

Then we were talking Monday night and he brought it up again, saying how worried he was. I said I would make an appointment with Dr. Sharma. I began to get worried too. So I felt around, WHICH I HATE DOING, and located another lump/bump in the same breast, not too far from the original.

Realistically, it's PROBABLY nothing, as I JUST had a breast MRI and breast exam in August. But I know there are no rules when it comes to my health, just exceptions to the rules. I am every exception to every rule.

Just because I had a clean breast MRI in August does not mean there is nothing to worry about with two lump/bumps in October.

TO ME, it PROBABLY feels innocent, like implant bubbles or scar tissue, since they are tiny lump/bumps and movable. But PROBABLY and MOST LIKELY again, do not hold up in my court. I am the exception to every rule.

Again, just because I had a mastectomy doesn't mean I won't get breast cancer again. 

So, a few things:

Tuesday I was a wreck. Didn't sleep at all Monday night. Headache all day Tuesday. Trouble concentrating. No makeup, hair a mess. Thinking of all of the terrible possibilities. If it's cancer again, what this will mean for my job, for Adele, for our family, surgery, chemo, blah blah blah.

I was scheduled to go for a run Tuesday night as part of my half-marathon training. I have a lot of trouble living life when I am in a state of terror and panic over the possibility of breast cancer. But I went anyway, and cleared 3 miles in under 25 minutes. And you know what? I felt a hell of a lot better.

Another thing, in all reality, THIS is our reality now and forever: as a breast/cancer survivor, you are always going to be worried and always think that every lump or bump is cancer. Also, every lump or bump needs to be checked out. Every single time. So this is part of life. Whether it's something or nothing, it needs to be looked at. So friends and family be not exhausted: I am going to have a lot of these moments. A lot of these "I-felt-something moments." A lot. 

So I made an appointment with my oncologist for this Friday to check out the lump/bumps. What this means is, as of Tuesday, I was telling myself I had until Friday to think and really believe it was something. Worry until Friday. Think of every possible terrible outcome until Friday. But after my run yesterday I had this crazy epiphany: what if I think the opposite?!

What if instead of being worried UNTIL Friday, I NOT worry until Friday? I think of the best possible scenario until Friday. What a freakin' concept.

So that's what I'm doing.

Nothing to think about, or do, until Friday.

And trust me, I know this drill like the back of my hand: Dr. feels bumps. "It's probably nothing/doesn't feel suspicious but because of your history/breast cancer/LFS we should probably take a look at it and schedule an ultrasound."

Then, 2-3 days later an ultrasound is scheduled for 2-3 after that. 

With the ultrasound, "it's probably nothing, but because of your history/breast cancer/LFS we should probably biopsy just to be sure."

I HOPE we do NOT get to the biopsy point because then there's the possibility of my implant breaking. OR, I hope we do not skip the ultrasound and go straight to the biopsy because that means Doc is very worried.

IT'S PROBABLY NOTHING but it MIGHT BE SOMETHING.

This is the life of a survivor: everything is something, even when it's nothing.

I know this "issue" won't be resolved for a few more weeks as I make my way through 2-5 doctors appointments/tests to confirm whether it's something or nothing.

So until then I must hold onto the "it's out of my control for now" and NOT worry about it until I NEED to worry about it. Because if I start to worry now I am going to be wasting a whole lot of damn time that needs to be focused on my family and my job and my half-marathon training.

Also, it is what it is.

I didn't do this. But I'm on top of it.

I don't want everyone to worry, so really, I wasn't going to do this post. But this is my blog and it's what I'm going through - it's the emotions. Nothing to be concerned about yet. Just that we've located PROBABLY NOTHING lumps/bumps and it will PROBABLY be OK, but when you're me you don't know if it's OK until it's really OK. And unfortunately we won't know that for a while.

Sorry for this post. Please don't worry. 

Writing helps me through this. It helps sort out my feelings. 

Written Oct. 28:

Saw Dr. Sharma on Friday. The night before I circled with a pen all of the lumps. There are five. FIVE. Actually, instead of this worrying me more, this worries me less. More little lumpies means this is more likely part of the implant. And actually none of the lumps feel suspicious except one. 4/5 feel tiny bouncy movey. And all of the lumps actually almost line up to outline my implant. Like a half moon shape, they line up like the outline of my implant. So, implant bubbles, stitches, scar tissue? OF COURSE I AM STILL TERRIFIED.

Anyway, as expected, Dr. Sharma wants me to get imaging. I got scheduled to see Dr. Kass tomorrow (Wednesday the 29th). I am also having an MRI and ultrasound tomorrow. So I THINK it's going to be OK but I really don't know and actually these past few days have been a little less than hell. I've been really busy with work which has helped, and I've been running. This past weekend I ran 18.99 miles between Friday, Saturday and Sunday. So training is going well. Saturday, as I planned to do, I cleared 8 miles. Sunday I was planning on doing 5-7 miles and I ended up doing nearly 7 which is awesome. 

So naturally I am all in a tizzy about tomorrow: what if they have to biopsy? I mean, that would be the worst. If they biopsy there is a chance they could rupture the implant PLUS it means they are worried/think it's serious PLUS we will have to wait even LONGER for actual results. I can't imagine them biopsy'ing all five lumps; just one if there is one that is scary.

GAWD I need to stop driving myself crazy. I am trying to look at life and my plans BEYOND Wednesday: continue training for my half-marathon, running my half-marathon, Halloween, my mom coming to visit this weekend, Rebecca's wedding in Pittsburgh, Thanksgiving, my 30th birthday, etc. But I have so much trouble thinking there is life after Wednesday. I am scared still, scared shitless until then. Because it's always something until it's nothing.

As I was running Sunday the song "Out of the Woods" by Taylor Swift came on and it really, really resonated with me. Just the part about: "Are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear?"

It kind of always, always feels like we're in the woods. Right now anyway. Still in the woods - not yet in the clear - until we have some answers about my lumps. Still in the woods with Adele, until the adoption is finalized. I know, KNOW nothing will come in the way of that, but until it's final it's not final. I know we've gone through the steps:

The 30 days, the three post-placement visits, birth mom and birth dad terminating their own rights, the newspaper notice, paperwork. Now there is this one last final step: the court date. Are we out of the woods yet? Is she legally ours yet?

Are we out of the woods yet? Are my lumps nothing?

My friend Emily described me and how I've been feeling this past week perfectly: I'm carrying this heavy backpack that really nobody knows about. I carry the breast cancer and the adoption. They are heavy and they are hard.

The breast cancer is always a part of my life. The adoption is beautiful and wonderful and a blessing from G-d but it's still hard. No part of it is easy. No part of being a cancer survivor is easy. No part of legally making a child yours is easy. 

And I carry the rest of my life, not always hard - mostly amazing -, but a lot, in this backpack. Juggling a full time job with a 6-month old baby with these health scares and doctor's appointments and adoption is HARD. My back hurts. 

Are we out of the woods yet?

Even with this heavy backpack, even in these heavy, often unclear woods, I move through. I run through. In hopes one day we will be out. 

But I know full well we're never really ever out of the woods. Because that's life. There's always SOMETHING. Nobody is ever completely without hardships, worry, anxiety. 

We're never really ever out of the woods. We just learn news ways to navigate.

True, worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it gets you nowhere. I have to remind myself whatever happens tomorrow can't take away my husband and my daughter and my family and my friends. I keep associating health scares with the sweeping away of my life.

But I know: cancer didn't take away from my wedding or my honeymoon or building a house or starting a family. Adele is my daughter. Sean is my husband. Campbell is my dog. Our house is full of love and strength and security. I will have that no matter what.

So I must build a new walking stick and navigate a different path. 

Just because I've "dealt with this before" doesn't mean I know how, or want to, or will have an easier time dealing with it again. A cancer scare is a cancer scare is a cancer scare. 

Just in time for Halloween I am spooked and scared. But again, I know what I have to do. That walking stick. Keep moving through the woods. Because if I stand still, unmoved, in a pile of leaves, I'll miss out on everything.