Oncology 101

Sitting in the oncologist's office waiting room, I'm trying to think of it as any other doctor's appointment and just trying to read my book, but I can't stop looking at the others in the waiting room. I read the same sentence 8 times and didn't know what I'd read. I was emotional just sitting there among the other cancer patients.

They are mostly older, as in over 65, and they seem frail, and shuffle in and sit down with effort. One carrying a black bag over his shoulder; I've seen these before, and my assumption is they are chemo bags, although I have no clue as to how they work.

The receptionist knows them all by name. This is not their first appointment like it is mine.

As the "young one", I feel out of place. Almost an intruder. I'm not sick. I don't shuffle. My scar is hidden and small and healed. I am still strong and plan on staying that way.

The side door opens and a man walks out followed by several nurses and a few doctors, who are watching him. He is looking for something and they direct him to a plaque on the wall. He reads it out loud but to himself, quickly, so I can't hear what he says. Below the plaque is a large brass bell. He finishes reading and reaches down and rings the bell. Its really loud and then all the staff start to clap. I stare. I can tell the others around me in the waiting room understand what just happened. Then I know too. He's finished. His treatment is done. He happily leaves the office with a "see you in two weeks" to the receptionist.

This will be the first stop of my day for 33 treatments over 6 weeks. Every weekday I will come here first thing, undress and lay in a machine which will send a powerful xray over my left breast to irradiate any fiesty cancer cells which may be trying to expose themselves. After 10 minutes or so I will get dressed and go to work. The only evidence left behind are the 4 tiny dots they tattooed (instead of Sharpied which they said would wash off if I sweated or swam- uh no way) on my chest. These dots tell the machine where to line up every day. The skin will get irritated and dry and I must doctor it with lotion to keep it comfortable.

They are all very nice there in Oncology. The nurses I met were funny and matter-of-fact at the same time. They see lots of newbies like me. Its not just for women or breast cancer, this office sees all kinds of cancer. I got looks from those elderly like "poor thing". Not sure if that was because of my age or because I looked nervous. Or clueless.

Soon I'll look like I know what I'm doing. Soon that receptionist will know my name and I guess I will know hers. I will be there, get my treatments, live my life, and then ring the bell and move on.

The Case of the Disappearing Cancer....

On May 6th I went to surgery for the biopsy to remove a piece of tissue to test for cancer after seeing microcalcifications on my mammogram. The call comes May 10th from the surgeon, yes there was cancer in the sample. Several appointments and tests later we determine the surgeon must go back in and scrape out some more tissue to check for any other cancer cells.

Side note: I have to mention, the first go at it showed up on a bill for $18,000? But the Blue Cross "adjustment" was $16,000, and insurance paid almost $1700, so my part is a little over $300. Is that crazy or what? Anyway, that's a different topic I'm not willing to delve into. More bills are coming to amaze me further I'm sure.

ANYWAY, so as of May 10th, I'm thinking I'm still carrying around cancer and they are going back in to get it out. June 2nd I go under the knife again. I was told they were gonna go where the last sample was and take more, especially on the side where the cancer cells were centered the most. Great. Go for it.

Today I finally talk to the doctor about what was found on the sample this time. He tells me it's clear. As in, no cancer in the tissue tested. Say what? He explained the first surgery most likely got it all out and even if there were tiny pieces left (it was all tiny to begin with) my healing process causes new healthy scar tissue to form in the area which can pretty much kill off anything left there. It happens often.

Ok, how do I feel about this? I had cancer for an unknown number of months, but didn't know it. Then by the time I knew it, I didn't have it anymore. Strange.

Radiation is still recommended. Why? I don't have it anymore, right? Well, the doctors don't want to say I'm absolutely clear because they were only digging around in one area that they could see on the mammogram, but who knows if some random cancer cells aren't still floating around all by themselves and just haven't joined up to others to make a noticeable group. Radiation is my insurance.





Then I wonder how women with more advanced stages do this. How do they feel when they are told they have Stage 2 or 3 or maybe 4 breast cancer and then they have a mastectomy. The surgeon told me the only way they know all the cancer is gone is a mastectomy. Because my cancer was so small and confined it wasn't necessary but some women do it anyway, even with my DCIS. Just so they don't have to worry every time they go for a mammogram. So those women get the mastectomy and their cancer is gone. All that build up with the fear and the thinking it could KILL them and then it's gone. Now they don't have breast cancer. And everyone calls them a Survivor.

The cancer was cut out and now I'm a Survivor? Runs and walks and donations are celebrated for breast cancer research and supposedly I'm an insider because for a few weeks I thought I had cancer? I don't know about those other women, but that makes me feel weird. I feel unworthy of it all.

I am truly in awe of the ladies who have the mastectomies and then chemo. I don't know much about breast cancer chemo (hopefully I won't have to) but I assume that chemo is their insurance. They are told the mastectomy took it all. But now they must flush with chemo meds to get all the other pathways their more advanced cancer had possibly reached. Insurance.

I still have several doctor appointments to find out more about the next steps for me. I've had a lot of exposure to this disease in a very short time. I will need to process these last few months and accept that this happened and now I've done what I can to take care of it.

When the radiation is done and I get through the next mammogram and it is whatever it is and I move on to the next one, I hope to be more comfortable with it all, and then maybe, feel like a real Breast Cancer Survivor.