If you haven't liked "My Six Letter Swear Word" facebook page I would encourage you to. I occasionally post mini-updates if I don't have the time to update my blog. I also find it easier to share photos, articles, and links to documentaries on facebook.
Okay, now on with the expanded version of the results from my ultrasound.
Bob has back issues, has for years, and was in a lot of pain. You know it's bad when he says he needs to go to the doctor. So yesterday started with a trip to our primary care physician, the same doctor who I saw after finding my lump. He could barely walk let alone drive, so I had to take him.
It's a fairly small practice of family practitioners. If you're not familiar with what a family practitioner is, they provide continuing and comprehensive health care for the individual and family across all ages. I've been with them through four pregnancies, 13+ years. As you can imagine, having five children, over the years I've spent a lot of time there and am very well known by the nurses and other staff members.
This was going to be the first time I had been there since quitting conventional treatment. I was nervous about what kind of questioning I might encounter. Anyone who doesn't follow the normal protocols of the medical establishment, such as myself, is often scrutinized by medical doctors.
We made it all the way through Bob's appointment and just when I thought I was in the clear the doctor popped his head back in the door and said, "oh, and I meant to ask you, how are your treatments going?"
Darn it! It was the moment of truth.
I said, "well, you're a medical doctor, so you probably aren't going to agree with what I'm doing, but I quit chemo after two rounds and I'm treating it holistically."
Eek! I did it.
The first time I had to do it. I never told any of the other c***** doctors what my plan was. Once I decided I was done with chemo I had Bob tell them I wasn't coming back. After that I avoided all their phone calls. At the time, I was really too fragile to hear anyone criticize me, call me crazy or question my decisions.
As it turned out, he didn't do any of those things.
We had a short conversation about the types of things I was doing. He admitted that doctors don't know everything and sometimes aren't sure how to treat certain conditions, that as a doctor it should be about finding what the patient is comfortable with and finding a way to work together. In the end, he wished me well and told me to keep him updated.
Phew!!
I must say, I'm in a much better place mentally now than I was a couple of months ago. I could have withstood the scrutiny, but I am very thankful that I didn't have to.
All this and I still haven't shared my good news.
On the way home I needed to make a stop for candy for Aiden's very, very late birthday party which is tomorrow. His birthday was in January but because of the circumstances he never had a party, which I had promised him. While I was in the store Bob took it upon himself to call the thermography/sonogram office. So when I got back out to the truck he informed me that they mailed the results. Mailed them, really?
I know they told me they would email them to me. I remember thinking that was strange because they had mailed me the results of the thermogram. I have no idea how long the results were sitting right there in my mailbox. If I was a normal person and checked my mail everyday I would have had them earlier. But there they were, waiting for me when I got home.
The report is as follows:
Lt. breast- one cyst found in the 3 o'clock position (who knew they used a clock to describe locations in the breast? I didn't until all this started), no solid masses seen, enlarged lymph nodes (normal for the situation) and the rest of the tissue has a fibrocystic appearance ( which I already suspected)
Rt. breast- .89 cm mass in the 11 o'clock position (location of the original tumor), solid mass with smooth borders, wider than it is tall, enlarged lymph nodes (again normal for the circumstances) rest of the tissue has a fibrocystic appearance
So there it is. The tumor is less than 1 cm wide and less than that tall. From the images they took, which I have a copy of, it appears to be nearly flat.
What I would love to do is take the measurements from the three exams I've had and make clay models of the tumor. I know that sounds strange but I think it would help me visualize how much it has shrunk since first finding it. It is a three dimensional shape and sometimes I forget that and think of it two dimensionally. Just a thought.
Anyway...
In February, at the time of my diagnosis, it was measured at 2.5 cm. It did shrink after the first round of chemo.
It was measured again at the end of March, at the time of the second round of chemo,1.5 cm wide by 1 cm tall. It was still palpable. After the second round of chemo there seemed to be no change and was still palpable.
It remained that way up until I started having swelling and pain in my breasts a few weeks ago. After the enlarged breast tissue went down the lump felt very tiny.
Now, it's measuring .89 cm. wide. It is no longer palpable.
I'm actually glad it isn't gone. Why? Because I don't want there to be any doubts in anyone's mind what cured this c*****. I don't want anyone to be able to say it was the chemo. At this point, approximately 11 weeks post chemo, I think it is safe to assume the chemo is out of my system.
There are, I'm sure, many people who doubt what I am doing will work. Heck, even I had my doubts. I had moments of "oh my gosh, what were you thinking?"
I don't anymore. I'm confident that this is working.
Even if others doubt that what I am doing had anything to do with the shrinkage of the tumor, there is one undeniable fact; it's not growing. I have completely stopped it from growing and spreading.
It's recommended I follow up with another ultrasound in 3 months. I'm leery of waiting that long. I will probably repeat in 6 weeks. At that point, it will be evident of what is curing this c*****. I'll be able to compare the measurements from this ultrasound with the ones from the next.
There's one thing I wanted to clear up.
I originally had said that I was diagnosed as stage 1. That's incorrect. I was actually stage 2. I know it must seem strange to not know something that important.
Here's what happened.
When I met with the surgeon in Pittsburgh, the first c***** doctor I saw, I asked him, "so, I'm stage 1, right?" nodding my head yes.
It wasn't until much later, in fact, after I was looking at the paper that read "unfavorable", that I had memories of that visit. I remember so clearly the look on his face and the gesture he made with his hands, the shrugging of his shoulders, while he said "sure" as the answer to my question.
When I went to Chicago to continue treatment, they said I was stage 2. I thought it was odd but I didn't really question it. Why? Probably because I was still overwhelmed, still trying to process everything that was happening. Maybe it just seemed not as bad that way. I really don't know.
There are two things that would qualify breast c***** as stage two:
1. if it has spread to the lymph nodes, no matter the size
or
2. if it is bigger than 2cm, even if there is no lymph node involvement
I never had lymph node involvement, but my tumor was larger than 2 cm. (2.5 cm)
So technically, I was stage 2 not stage 1. Not that it matters to me now. The regimen is the same whether I'm stage 1 or stage 4. It works all the same. Just wanted to clear that up.
As the results have time to sink in, I'm in such amazement. It really seems so surreal to me. I'm not sure I have the words to describe how I feel exactly just yet. I know I'm feeling thankful and blessed, but even those two words don't quite encompass it all.
Knowing that it's working just gives me the motivation to keep going strong and pushing through till the end.
And that championship baseball game, Aiden's team won, 7-4
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