After a whirlwind of my diagnoses and telling our family and friends I knew there would be more appointments to follow. On our way on on Tuesday, Megan the CCC called and said she had set up an appointment with the Virginia Piper Cancer Center. I would be meeting with a couple women whom are far too smart for their own good.
I went to work on Wednesday thinking I only had one appointment. Who was I kidding? The plastic surgeon's office called and wanted me to be fit into Dr. K's schedule. Dr. K who would soon learn is a fantastic surgeon was going on a mission trip to repair cleft pallets and lips in Peru for a week. I felt really good about that because it gave me some more time to think about all of my options.
Sam picked up me from work; I was scared just felt better with him with me in the car. We could talk about things and absorb them together. We drove to Dr. K's spa clinic and waited to patiently to see what he could offer us in forms of reconstruction. Dr. K walked in with a warm face and a kind voice; ready to give me options on how to love myself in the mirror again someday.
The options the breast surgeon Dr. DJ gave me where 1) lumpectomy with radiation; meaning removing the tumor and a little more healthy tissue followed by 5-6 weeks of radiation treatment 2) single mastectomy; the removal of the cancerous breast 3) bilateral (double) mastectomy; removal of both breasts. With both options 2 and 3 there is an option to reconstruct the breasts.
The options were overwhelming at best, but very informative. In order to reconstruct a breast Dr. K would implant a tissue expander underneath the chest muscle. He then would inject the expander with saline once a week until I reach my desired fullness. After the breast reached the size I chose, Dr. K would then implant a soft implant. After healing the nipple would be constructed and finally later in the office Dr. K would tattoo on the aereola.
As Sam and I left we felt very comfortable with him. We went to lunch and my mom called to get an update. I lost it. I cried in the middle of Fudruckers while waiting for my burger. I cried because it's unfair. My whole life crashed down in front of me. Nursing school was on hold, our chances of having another child may not happen, and I will never breastfeed again. It's unfair and I feel like I've been through enough. Not having all of the answers was frustrating, but I dried my tears and hung up the phone.
Sam then drove us to the Virginia Piper Cancer Center to meet with Shanda in genetics. Piper, for short, is a calming tranquil clinic lit with dim light and kind faces. Shanda met with us in a conference room and talked about the science of breast cancer genetics. In short, women have a 1 in 8 chance of developing breast cancer. On my dad's side of the family there are 2 women out of 5 with breast cancer. Nearly half.
28 year olds don't get cancer and there has to be a reason why this is happening. Shanda recommended I don the testing for the BRCA gene. This is the breast cancer gene. You can test for 1 or 2. If I were to test positive for BRCA 1 gene, being diagnosed under 30, in the next 10 years I have a nearly 60% chance of reoccurring breast cancer and a 40% chance of developing ovarian cancer.
If not for me I will do the testing for my sister and for my children. I feel it's important for our family to know what they are up against so they may get proper testing. It was a very overwhelming day, but really informative. Sam and I were feeling closer and closer to making a surgical decision on how we would first attack this monster.
The last thing in the world I wanted to do was spread the news to . . . well . . . anybody. I felt defeated, alone, and so angry. I sent a few quick text messages to the very few people who knew about the biopsy. After we met with Dr. DJ and I had my mammogram I knew I had to call my mom.
Cue the worst moment so far. I called her after work because I didn't want this to wait. She isn't always the easiest to get a hold of during the day, but I told her receptionist that I needed to talk to her because it was urgent. I asked her to find a spot alone and sit down. She told me she was sitting--liar--and I recapped the chain of events. I told her about the lump, the subsequent appointment, the ultrasound, the biopsy, and last the results. I cried through the whole thing and when I was finished my mom, who is a pillar of strength and will power, was crying so hard it was hard to understand her words.
Telling your mom, who has already buried a child, that one of her children have cancer was awful. If I could do anything in this world, it would be to make her heart feel whole again. She has lost a chunk of her heart when Jason died and I feel like I ripped out another piece and placed and unnecessary burden on her. But, in the true Montana way, she pulled up her boot straps and said, "Nicole, it will be ok. It has to be." From from over 600 miles away I felt safe.
Sam and I went to my work and broke the news. I shared in tears and hugs with a lot of my coworkers and then we went to his parents' house. On the way there I called one of my best girl friends. She cried in her cube at work and assured me God was with us and would protect us. Sam called his mom on the way to the house so she knew by the time we opened the door to get Camden. She wrapped her arms around me like only a mother could. If I can't have my mom here, I am so glad I have Sam's mom. She makes me feel like her own and part of the family.
We left and went home. I text our next door neighbors whom we have dinner with about once a week. as some of our best friends this news was very hard to break. The W's say on the love seat together after I greeted them with a beer at the door--hey I think this news called for a drink--J cried and M wiped tears from his eyes. I mean, you are supposed to tell your friends you are pregnant or even that you are getting divorced. I never thought we would have to tell our friends that I have cancer.
Probably the one phone call I was dreading the most was to my baby sister. She doesn't know it, but she is my strength and my rock. She is a roll model for me even though she is six years younger. She has been through so much and has to grow up so quickly. I just want her to be able to live her childhood and not deal with the real world quite yet. She was in class, but stepped out and called me after I had text her that I needed to talk to her. She knew about the biopsy so I quickly told her the results. She cried, hyperventilated, and cried some more. I never in my life wanted to cause her this pain. Never. Ever. Even when we would bite each other growing up.
I hung up the phone with my sister and cried in Camden's nursery from the very chair I nursed him in and have rocked him to sleep. Realizing he will be my only child I will ever breastfeed and very well may be my only child ever.
My instant reaction was to turn to Sam and say, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry." I felt in my heart like we did not deserve this and I had let him down. We cried, we hugged, and we cried some more. This is devastating. I was going to be starting nursing school on Monday, we were planning on another baby that I would breastfeed for a year.
Why was this happening to us and right now?
Midwife K helped us gather our things because she had already made an appointment with a breast surgeon and the appointment was in about 20 minutes.
Before we left the office I asked to talk to Midwife J--she saw us for the majority of our prenatal appointments and delivered Camden and she felt the lump. She was in tears and felt so badly that this was happening. She never thought the lump was cancer, but all I could say was thank you.
We got in the car together and drove down the road to the first of many appointments. Because I work with a doctor I was very familiar with the medical system on the west side of the metro. We entered a building that I go to twice a week; we headed to the same floor as my office but took a left instead of right off of the elevator.
I instantly felt the everyone in the office was staring at me. "There is the young girl with cancer," "why is she here to see the breast surgeon?" As we were standing in line to check in for my appointment a woman cut in front of us in line. I literally thought with tensions so high that Sam was going to grab her by the hair and pull her to the ground. I remind myself that she had no idea what news we had just been dealt and it was not her fault. She didn't give me cancer.
We were called back to the room--and here goes my nervous joking personality. The medical assistant who took us back to the room asked if she could get a weight. My response, "are you sure we have to do this, I've had a really crappy day already and we don't need to make it worse." With an uncomfortable look and a caring sigh she said, "yes, Nicole, we haven't seen you before." As I stepped up all I could think was, you're right you haven't seen me before and I was hoping we would never meet.
Enter the beautiful Dr. DJ. Calming face, with the fit body of a surgeon, and the most gorgeous hair!! She brought the "Understanding Breast Cancer" pamphlet and went through my surgical options page by page. The overwhelming reality was starting to sink in. I wanted to know if we could have another baby because my wanting to breastfeed ever again was out the door.
I cried as she started to explain the screening process to learn more about my cancer. She placed her hand on my leg and reminded me that I can do this. She told me my cancer care coordinator would be in to describe what appointments she was going to set up and to tell me where to go next.
Enter CCC--cancer care coordinator--M, who luckily enough also has gorgeous hair. CCC M was sending me down to the breast center to get a mammogram and she would be calling about the rest of the week's appointments. She assured me she would be there when I needed her and not to worry.
I don't know if we left feeling better or worse, but it was a whirlwind.
January 21~
After finding a lump in my breast in the shower, I made an appointment with the midwife who delivered Camden. She "felt me up" and said though she thought it was normal breast changes and normal breast tissue, she was going to send me for an ultrasound just to make sure. I left that appointment and went on my way.
On January 21 I entered the breast center. A place where no 28 year old should be anyway, but that was made apparent by the stares and whispers I got while waiting for my ultrasound. K, the radiologic technologist did my scan. About 2 minutes into the scan she asked if I could stay to do further testing, but the radiologist would determine for sure. With a quick touch of the probe, Dr. A determined I would need a biopsy.
Needle biopsy; needle my ass--we are calling that tool the boob harpoon. Five core samples were taken and sent to pathology and I should have my results by the next day.
The first time I cried through the whole process was when I went upstairs to see my coworker and confidant L. I was scared.
January 22~
Officially the 2nd worst day of my life. What's the first you ask? Getting the call from my dad telling me my brother Jason had died in a motor cycle accident. I thought my family had lived through enough hell, but I guess there was more in store for us.
About 10:00am, I received a call from the midwives. Midwife K said my results had come in, they were significant, and I needed to come to the office right now with my husband. I hung up the phone and immediately burst into the Oprah Ugly Cry. I called Sam and rushed out of work. I cried, I told him I was scared and pure Sam fashion he told me we would get through this.
We met at the midwife's office where we were immediately taken to an exam room. Midwife K held my hand and said "Your results have come back, and you have cancer."
Officially the 2nd worst day of my life.
