The Big C – My Round 2 with cancer

The First “C” Days

Cancer has entered my life, twice.  The second time with cancer was very traumatic.  I explored many avenues to heal myself,  both mentally and physically.  I wanted to make sure that my second round with cancer would be the final one.

My naturopath told me that my lung meridian was holding an enormous amount of sadness.  Unloading the sadness would elevate my body to the next healthier level.  He thought it could be related to my second go round with the big C, breast cancer.

So, with wasband now history, and myself moving into a more positive phase in life, it would be worth unloading some more baggage.  It is time to write about my big C, take 2.

Wednesday Evening

The Call Comes In

I arrived home at 5:30 pm to a message from my doctor’s office asking me to give them a call.  I’d just had a breast biopsy the week before and I knew it had something to do with it.  My stomach was in knots as I dialed.  The nice young receptionist, Miss K, on the other end informed me that I had an appointment with the specialist next Thursday morning.  I hesitatingly asked, “Why do I need to see a specialist?”  There was a pause at the other end of the phone and Miss K said quietly, “You don’t know?  You have breast cancer.”

Just then my wasband and then 11 year old son walked through the door.  Still on the phone, waiting for the receptionist to give me the address of the specialist, I turn to them and announce I had breast cancer.  My wasband went pale, my son started crying – he thought I was going to die.

Miss K gave me an address, which I wrote down and then I made an appointment to see my doctor first thing Thursday morning.  “Dr. M is away until Monday, but you can see Dr. G”.  That’ll do.  I needed answers.  At that moment, I was so fucking mad I could’ve hit something hard and done some serious damage.  “Not again,” I thought, “Not fucking again.”

Wednesday, later in the evening

Wasband called our friend G, who recently lost his wife to cancer.  He had knowledge of and leans toward alternatives to the regular medical treatment.  He told me to read up on German New Medicine and its theory that when the body receives a shock, it manifests in your body.  He also told me to look up Dr. Joanna Budwig and read her treatment for cancer.

G told me the most important thing to do is not to panic, to avoid the death fright that comes whenever anyone mentions cancer.  “Don’t panic, the law of the universe,” I joke, “Don’t panic and bring a towel.”  I was madder than a hornet.  I wanted to physically hurt something.  I called the Women’s Breast Health Centre to leave a message for someone to give me a call and explain what the hell was going on.  I asked if Nurse A could give me a call.  She’s the very capable nurse I spoke to before the biopsy.  She seemed like the one who could give me the most accurate information.

Thursday

At 8 am, I got a call from the Women’s Breast Health Centre.  The person apologised profusely but there was no one who could give me any accurate information in the office until Friday.  Neither Dr. H, who did the biopsy, or Nurse A.

So I was stuck with leaving yet another message, none the wiser about my situation.  I had no idea how bad the cancer was, what treatment was available.  Nothing.

At The Doctor’s Office

I was at my doctor’s office at 9.a.m. Thursday, right when it opened.  Miss K, the receptionist, showed me into a room and began to apologise for having to tell me about my cancer.  “I’ve never had to do that before,” she said, tearing up.  I reassured her that she did the right thing by telling me, rather than leaving me hanging.  That would be worse.  Dr. G came in, a calm, dignified woman, and asked me what I was there for.  I was dumbfounded that she didn’t know.  I explained that I was here to find out more about my diagnosis.  She was shocked that I had been left hanging with just a diagnosis and nothing more.  She immediately checked her laptop to see if she had any more information.  She too apologised yet tried to reassure me.  I broke down for the first time and she kindly hugged me while I cried.

No News

She left the room to try and get a hold of Dr. H at the Women’s breast health centre, the place that did my biopsy.  I sat and tried to pull myself together. Unfortunately, Dr. G was not able to get a hold of any one at the Women’s centre.  I started crying again.  Dr. G put her hand on my shoulder and quietly let me cry.  After a few minutes I pulled myself together.  Dr. G wanted to know if I was alright, if I’d like them to phone a cab.  “I’m as good as can be expected,” I joked.  I walked out of the office, tears in my eyes and headed for my car.  I had to pick up my son’s sleeping bag at the cleaners.

Thursday Afternoon

Later that day I phoned my partner at work.  I gave her the news.  Agent K is a good friend, she saw me go through the last round of cancer.  “Don’t you worry about this place, you take care of yourself.”  Ironically, I’m the last person I take care of.  But the fates had stepped in and, once again, forced me to stop focusing on others and turn my efforts to taking care of myself.  I wished their methods were a little more subtle though.  I wasn’t looking forward to being physically disfigured again, nor the scare tactics or the endless poking and prodding and testing.  Mostly I didn’t want to have to go through the agonizing wait for test results.  I was not looking forward to it at all.

Friday

Finally some news!

Nurse A, nurse extraordinaire, called me to finally give me some information.  She was incredibly apologetic about the manner in which I was told and about the fact I was left hanging afterwards.

I told her that it had been a hell of a couple of days.  I cried as I explain to her that this was round 2 with cancer for me.  The first time I lost a baby.  This time, my son panicked because he had just watched our friend die and leave 2 little boys behind.  He now thought he was going to lose his mom too.  Nurse A was incredibly understanding and talked me down.  She said she had my report in hand and started going through the diagnosis with me.

The Diagnosis

I wrote things down but only heard things in snippets:

In-situ, ductal, growing in duct, estrogen positive, high grade aggressive but not bad.  Not hertoo receptors.

She then told me the standard treatment:  lumpectomy, radiation, possibly second lumpectomy, possibly chemo.  Definitely biopsy of sentinel lymph nodes.

I asked about the treatment.  “How will it affect me?” I asked.  “Most women feel fine a couple of days after the lumpectomy and are up and going for walks.  The radiation may make you feel tired for a couple of days.”  “What about the mental healing, how are most women affect?” I asked.  “I’m amazed at how quickly some women bounce back,” she said, “Some are back to work within a couple of months.”  “I’m amazed at how strong these women are,” she said, “I’m not sure I would be that strong, to be honest.”

Help Available

We talked a little more about physically being prepared, diet, alterative healing, particularly of the mind.  She’d heard about them all, talked a bit about each and was generally very supportive.  “If you’re interested, I can sign you up for cancer connections.  It’s a program that puts you in touch with former breast cancer patients who are now trained as counselors.  These ladies can answer questions, and will be there as much or as little as you need them.”  “Definitely sign me up,” I said, “Perhaps you can also ask for someone who has explored alternative treatments as well.”  “Certainly,” Nurse A replied.  I felt much stronger now.

Now the fun part – letting everyone know.

I called my partner at work again.  Agent K was encouraging and supportive as usual.  I asked her about our boss, if he was around.  He’d taken the day off.  Shit – now I would have to call him on a Friday, a day off, to give him this crappy news.  It was 10 a.m.

I decided to take a shower first.

Sunday

Day 4 after the getting the news.  Today the depression hit me with a vengeance.  Despite having had a good night’s sleep, all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and shut down.  I could see it was going to be a lot of work to keep the depression away and stay positive.  The cancer was going to do what it could to bring me down but I wouldn’t let it.  I’d planned a physical work out every day this week until the first visit with the specialist.  For the moment, I would lose my mind in computer games until I could steer myself back into the light.