Denial Ain’t Working No More
here’s been something that has been going on with me medically for a couple of months now. I haven’t blogged about it or mentioned it before because I was employing my usual method of dealing with issues I don’t feel like addressing: denial. Until today it’s been working.
It started with my mammogram back in early May. I hadn’t had one since 2006 (or was it 2005?) so I was overdue. The tech told me as she got me ready that they had switched to digital mammography in the intervening years. Since digital was so much clearer, she told me not to be surprised if I received a call to come back for some follow-up images. It seems to happen pretty often, she advised.
So I wasn’t too surprised when a week later I received a letter telling me to come in for a follow-up mammogram and possibly an ultrasound. I was most miffed about making the trek to radiology again for more breast squishing.
But like a good patient I have the follow-up images. I’m waiting in the waiting room when the tech tells me that he (the radiologist) sees something really small along the chest wall behind my right breast. He thinks I should go ahead and have the ultrasound. Fine, I roll my eyes, just feeling that we are just delaying the inevitable result that this is nothing. I have the ultrasound. The tech tells me that there is a tiny little thing that looks like a lymph node that really don’t seem very worrisome. She goes out to talk to the radiologist. I’m waiting for the, “OK, it’s nothing, you can go home” words. She returns and instead says, “Well, in light of your family history (my sister had breast cancer), he wants you to have a breast MRI.”
At that point, I’m just through. This is ridiculous. I have nothing truly indicative of breast cancer. No real lesions, no calcifications, just a tiny area that they wouldn’t even give a second thought about if not for my sister’s history. (And FWIW’s, she is my half-sister. Her father is my stepfather. We have no history of breast cancer in any other member of my family including my father’s side of the family.) I decide that I’m not doing anything else without talking to Sam, my favorite doc in the whole world.
Sam, herself a breast cancer survivor, listens to me go on about this foolishness, and decides to send me to Dr. Dahlia, the breast surgeon who thinks like an internist. She trusts her. OK, fine. I’ll see what she says.
I go to see Dr. Dahlia who is not overly concerned about this area seen on the mammogram. It is not palpable. She thinks that it probably is a lymph node, especially since I was nursing (they grow with nursing). But she wants me to get the breast MRI. Sigh. When is someone going to tell me that this is just over? Yeah, so they’re all being careful and shit, but come on! When is it going to stop? Are they going to decide to just take my breast off because they’re not sure what it is and they want to be careful? But Dr. Dahlia thinks that the breast MRI should be the definitive test.
I get stuck in a metal tube for 40 minutes. As a present, they give me a DVD of my breast MRI. I wait a week for results. I hear nothing. The next week Dr. Dahlia calls. The MRI was read as negative. Great, so all this can come to an end, I think. But they didn’t read it with together with the mammogram. And she wants the guy who read the mammogram to read the MRI. He’s on vacation until next week. Shit! This just will not end!!! She’ll call me back with the final reading.
I waited another week…then another. Nothing. Interestingly last weekend I receive a mailing with both mammograms and my breast ultrasound films. No note. No explanation as to why these were sent to me. Just the films. I put them aside. My denial was still working.
Today Dr. Dahlia called me. Again I waited for the “all clear” words. Again they didn’t come.
“Well, he (the radiologist) is not sure and thinks we should do a core needle biopsy.”
“Oh come on!” I exclaimed. “This is just too much. This is nothing. Do you really think that we should do all this?”
“I think it would give us an answer,” she replied.
“Fine,” I said, seething.
And then I hung up the phone and decided that I had had enough. This is ridiculous. This is all CYA medicine. I’m getting off this rollercoaster. I’ll call her back and tell her that I’ll just have a follow up mammogram or MRI in 6 months. Whatever this is will either have progressed or stayed exactly the same. There is no reason to keep going with this drama.
I called AdoringHusband first. And in true caretaker fashion, he agreed with me, and said that we should call Sam and have her speak to the radiologist before we go anything further. And then I did something sensible. I called my aunt (who is also a gynecologist).
When I told her that I had decided to forgo the biopsy, the first words out of her mouth were, “OK, you’ve gone and lost your natural mind.”
I tried to explain to her why my plan seemed reasonable and how they were making a big deal about nothing, and Auntie M cut me off and began to tell me about myself in a way that would have done my mother proud.
“If it was just you and the cats, you could take your time and be crazy like that, but you’ve got Z and there is no time for crazy-acting. You need to know what’s going on. If it IS something, you’ve got to deal with it NOW, not 6 months from now. You’ve got to do whatever it takes to be in the best health you can FOR HER.
You can be scared. You can be anxious. You can be anything you want. But you better have that damn biopsy!”
I sheepishly called Dr. Dahlia’s office and told her to go ahead with scheduling the biopsy. But today, my friends, my denial just ain’t working no more. And I can’t stop crying.
I know that it should be OK. But what if I’m wrong?
If you’re wrong…you deal with it. You check with oncologists, you get treated. I understand that if Stage I breast cancer detected early enough, the survival rate is 98% to 100%. That’s darned good. Given that it’s small…given that your docs are unsure…*if* it’s there, it’s early early stages. I know the whole thing is scary, but far better to know now and deal with it. Keep us updated?
OmegaMoms last blog post..It is your DESTINY, Luke!
Liana, I found your blog via Cecily’s a while back and check in regularly. Your daughter is a beauty and I enjoy your witty posts. I hope, obviously, that your biopsy is negative and that all is well. You will be in my prayers. Keep us updated and think positively! No matter what, you will be OK.
It probably is nothing. But it’s better to make sure. *hugs* Thinking about you.
Glad you decided to go ahead and schedule. While the docs may be practicing CYA medicine, you must also practice a CYA way of living for yourself and your family. At least now you’ll be one step closer to knowing - and eradicating if it is there. Please know that you have a whole gang of buddies here as well as friends and family (in the real world) rallying behind you come what may. Wishing you strength.
If you are wrong, you call up every person you know to find the best oncologist to suit your needs. Then you call your aunt and her florist to send thanks her way.
After all of that? You hug your beautiful kid, and realize that with her, your husband, and *us* you will get through it. You are a strong woman. A very strong woman.
Until you hear you are wrong? You are right, but are proving the degree of your being right. And also setting a baseline for your next mammogram, which won’t be one day later than it should be, right?
You’re doing the right thing…
I’m very glad you called your aunt and that you’re listening to her advice. You’re probably right that it’s nothing…but why wait to find out?
Liana - I’m sure you’re right that everything is ok. Praying for you!
Teendoc, I recently re-found your post and your journey has been phenomal. Your littleone is a beaut saying that you are a beautful family.
This biopsy is instructive but will give you a pice of mind rather than worrying about it for the next 6 months.
I’m so glad you called your aunt! It’s much better to deal with the hassle of appointments and get everything checked out NOW! Thinking of you!
Oh Liana! What an ordeal . . . I agree with your Aunt . . . best to know . . . either to clear your mind 100% or to deal with anything that needs dealing with head on.
Thinking of you and feelig sure it’s nothing but scared with you all the same . . .
Is there anything I can do?
Liana, I’m so glad your Aunt got in that ass! You’ve just been too quiet and it had me nervous. I You are getting the best preventative care….you are going to be fine…xoxoxox
In all honesty, I think it’s fine too. But if it’s not, you’ve done the right thing and you’ll handle it the best you can. It will suck and it will be hard. My mom just beat endometrial cancer and it sucked and it was hard, but she handled it the best she could and is doing way better than before her diagnosis. I’ll be thinking of you.
Jenns last blog post..Never fails
[Lurked for ages because your stories about your daughter are such a good read.]
If you’re wrong, you’d have caught any problem very early, right? Making treatment that much more likely to work?
You’re probably not wrong, and the tests will give you solid grounds to dig in your heels next year when doctors fuss about the exact same lymph node.
If you had a patient who felt like you do right now, what would you advise her to do? I don’t mean on the tests specifically, but on feeling better about and more in control of the whole process…
Your wisdom and balance and humor are why I keep reading, so I know you’re going to handle whatever happens, no matter how hard it is to get there.
Liana, I’ve been there. It’s terrifying. But it has to be done, and I’m so glad you called your aunt. She is right. Any decision is so much bigger than us when we have children. But it is best for your health, regardless of Z.
Mine was benign, and I will pray for you that yours is also.
LIana,
I’m glad you called your Aunt. I would have told you the same thing.
Keep us posted and let me know if I can be of any help.
Hugs.
You are doing the right thing and remember it is best for Z, your husband and LIANA. God bless you and I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.
Yes, you are making the right decision to listen to your aunt and go for this biopsy. Get the worries over with now. I’d hate to be sitting for 6 months thinking if things were worse if something was really wrong. I’ll keep you on my prayer list.
tubelesss last blog post..dealing with tempers…..
Liana,
Funny how all your blogosphere lurkers say pretty much the same thing, which is exactly what I was going to say …. you’re absolutely right that the biopsy is CYA … and the first person who should want to cover your ass is yourself! If you were right, and it’s nothing, you’re reassured. If you’re wrong, you know much sooner. Let’s all hope you were right! Take care of yourself.
I am sorry to hear all of this, but glad you are getting it checked out. Love your auntie!
Take care!!!!
GL
I am sorry to hear these news. But it is definitely better to go and have the biopsy and I am glad you are getting it. I will keep you in my prayers.
Liana:
Ohmigod, I am going to chant for you. For as long as it takes. YOU CAN GET THROUGH THIS WAITING AND WONDERING - You need to get to the bottom of this as soon as it’s possible. Look at Zizi and AH and just make a determination. It will be so.
Deathstars last blog post..Rest in Peace, Dear Sampson
I have tried to post this 3x already - last try and then I’m emailing
I love your aunt. It’s a good thing she talked some sense into you - it’s saving me a trip across the bridge to kick your tush into gear!
I’m sure it’s nothing and when your doctor confirms same, we can celebrate with some of that green wine you were talking about
All I can say is, “Oy!”
I’ll be the voice of dissent and say that CYA medicine sucks. This lesion is just too vague to be seriously worrisome. You also didn’t mention whether or not it was seen on ultrasound. If not, how the hell are they going to manage a core biopsy of it? You said it’s right up against the chest wall behind the breast; tough area to get to. Also, did you ask Dr. Dahlia what she plans to do if the biopsy comes back “nondiagnostic” (and/or if they don’t a good sampling of the lesion)? ie, How “negative” will be “negative enough”?
I’m with you that you’re stuck on a rollercoaster. And with all due respect to your aunt, gynecologists are among the most paranoid CYA artists of all, second only to radiologists. By the way, notice that the radiologist recommended a procedure that *he* would perform (cough*and get paid for!*cough)
Tough spot to be in, however you cut it. I don’t envy you, but I am pulling for you.
Ah #1 Dinosaur, you get what’s been bugging me all along. This vague, mobile (on ultrasound) nonspecific *thingy* (don’t you love my medical terminology) just really seems too vague to truly be anything bad. No one but the man behind the curtain (the radiologist) really seems to be concerned. The one good thing is that he isn’t lining his pockets since the procedure is being done downtown by another doc in MRI. (And I’m still trying to figure out how one does a biopsy in an MRI machine.)
And you raised the exact question I had for Dr. Dahlia. How negative will be negative enough? The answer I received didn’t actually answer the question sufficiently. The three scenarios were:
a) normal biopsy-repeat mammogram and ultrasound in 6 months
b) suspicious biopsy with atypia or other weird finding-open biopsy
c) bad biopsy-surgery
Note that nondiagnostic or inadequate sample are not options listed there. Ah well.