In my previous post I talk about how I got here: Lucky me! Two lumpectomies in a month!
April 6 Second time around, pre-surgery prep:
Covid test
Exam and talk with Patani with more of his excellent artwork.
Microchip, which Patani calls a scout, implant.
Mammogram to make sure the microchip is near the wire they inserted a few days ago.
Another chat with Patani while he makes sure he can locate the chip.
“Gettin’ rid of the cancer, babe” says Peter when I complain that I'm tired of being punched in the boob.
Regarding the surgery, I’m not nearly as scared or weepy as I was the first time around. I guess it was fear of the unknown. This time, because of the MRI, we know where all the cancer is, and I know the hospital routine. They seem to know how to take care of me, so I don't wake up vomiting.
Since the time of the initial biopsy, February 14, to this point not quite two months later, they have been constantly taking things out or putting things into my breast! I'm so tired of it! My boob looked better five days after the first surgery than it looks after the MRI and repeat biopsies. Biopsies cause more destruction than the actual surgery! Hopefully after this second surgery Righty can do some healing, before they start attacking her with radiation.
Initial biopsy-big yellow-green-blue-black bruise
Microchip-another big bruise
Surgery-stitches, some swelling
MRI-more swelling than after the surgery, my breast didn't like not being supported
Second biopsy and marker-big bruise
Second microchip-more bruising
April 8 Today was the first day that I got dressed and forgot to put a bra back on. Even with all the bruising the breast tissue just feels more knitted together. So in a month, mid-May after today’s surgery, I might feel almost normal. And then I’ll start radiation. Sigh.
Three hour surgery to take further margins in the area first operated on, then another golf-ball sized piece of tissue containing very sneaky lobular cancer area removed. Boob hurts. I drank coffee with cream the morning of the surgery, not knowing the surgery would be at 2:00, so I had to be intubated! Throat hurts. Don’t need the egg and cress sandwich in spite of how cute it is. Just want camomile tea and to sleep.
Getting to love Patani and his super serious ways. I’m just a case to him, one of many projects, like a painting he’s working on. If this, then that. He’s absolutely humorless, but has published a million research papers. Saving my life and my right breast is enough I guess, he doesn’t need to be hilarious. He's a natural teacher, and I wish he had a podcast called, "Just to Recap."
I hate how it feels like my skin is all that’s holding my boob together, I have to sleep in the dumb bra/vest which makes me feel more secure, like my boob won’t ooze open, but it’s not super comfortable
April 13 Patani called, as I walked down King’s Road with a friend, to tell me that the pathology from the surgery was clean. Woot! Celebrated at Peggy Porschen. One boob a little bigger than the other, but whatever.
April 21 Appointment with Patani yesterday, “Just to recap,” all seems okay. Righty is not as well-shaped as after the first surgery because now they’ve taken out two golf ball-sized pieces of tissue and I've lost about a third of the breast on that side. Size looks okay now, but Patani says it’s holding fluid, and will unfortunately shrink. And radiation will mess with the shape as well. We won't know for a year what it's really going to look like.
Radiation in a month or so for three weeks. More on that after their team--which Peter calls Cancer Club--meets next week. I still have bruising from the biopsies and Patani wants me to take an antibiotic—he’s afraid of cellulitis, or even one bad bug.
Here's my collection of cancers:
- DCIS high grade-closer to becoming invasive
- Ductal cancer 14mm grade 2
- Lobular cancer in situ 4mm, 15mm grade 2
Patani says the fluid is keeping the breast tissue away from the skin, which will keep the skin from twisting, so he likes the swelling I have going on. He reminded me that we are only a week and a half out from the surgery, and that everything looks good. I should keep wearing the black vest bra, when I'm not sneaking around wearing a more comfortable one from ARQ.
Radiation will be the next saga. Radiotherapy, as they call it here, increases of chances being alive after ten years from 45-54% to 54-64%. All the photos I can find find show hugely red, swollen reactions, like photos from the covers of Peter's medical journals. I meet with the radiologist doc tomorrow, I'm scared.
We carry on, boobs against the water, see what’s next. ( • )( • )