My Cancer Story: Biopsy #1

If you haven’t read Part 1 of my story, you can do that here.

 When my husband and the radiologist walked into the room, my heart sank.  The doctor explained that while neither exam seemed to find any reason for the pain that I was having, he did see some small spots in the upper part of my right breast that concerned him and we would need to do a biopsy.  He did encourage me by saying that 80-90% of the time these spots are not cancerous, but we needed to check.

Let me get off topic for a moment and explain something about myself.  I am not a patient person, especially when it comes to getting information.  One of the hardest parts of this journey has been the times when I have had to wait for test results or the next exam or procedure.  It is torture for me to not know what exactly I am dealing with or what the next step will be.

So back on topic.  When the doctor told me that we would do a biopsy, my first question was how soon could we do it.  To my amazement, he said that he would need to check his schedule but he thought we could do it today.  I was so relieved.  He left the room to go check his schedule, and my husband went into full-time encouragement/reassurance mode as I tried not to let fear take over my mind.  The doctor came into the room a few minutes later and said let’s do it right now.  I think this was the first time that I clearly saw God’s hand in this whole situation.  I would continue to see his hands orchestrating this entire ordeal, but more on that later.  They moved me to a prep room and a nurse asked me if I would like to take a Xanax before the procedure.  I have a pretty high pain tolerance and didn’t want my husband to have to drive me home afterwards, so I declined.  I few minutes later the doctor came in and told me that he highly recommended that I take the Xanax.  Apparently some women don’t handle the experience well, and it is imperative that I lay perfectly still on my stomach the entire time.  I agreed to take the Xanax and in hindsight I am glad that I did.  I think I would have done just fine without it, but it does feel pretty nice (those of you who have taken it know what I am talking about!)  I took the pill and waited about 30 minutes for it to kick in, at which time they moved me to the biopsy room.  I laid flat on my stomach on a table with a hole in it where my breasts hung down, and the doctor got to work.  I don’t know all of the technical details, but I think he used an X-ray machine to guide a big needle into the questionable spot and take some tissue samples out.  He also left a tiny metal clip inside of me to mark the spot.  I didn’t think it hurt very bad and it didn’t seem to take very long.  When they were done, a nurse held pressure on the hole and then put some steri-strips on it which ended up staying on for about 1-2 weeks.  They took me back to the mammogram machine to take a picture and make sure that the tiny metal clip that the doctor had inserted was in the correct spot.  It was, so I put my clothes back on and headed home.  Before I left, of course I asked how long would be until I heard the results.  This was a Tuesday afternoon, and he said that he typically tells patients 3-5 business days but he would do his best to get them back ASAP.

I don’t even really remember much of the next 48 hours.  I do remember that my OBGYN called to tell me that he heard about the biopsy and asked if I had any questions.  My only question was what are the chances that this is cancer?  He told me that the vast majority of these biopsies come back benign, especially in women as young as myself.  I remember feeling relieved by that. I was desperate to grasp on to any piece of hope that someone would offer me.

I didn’t get a call the next day (Wednesday), and I wasn’t surprised.  When Thursday arrived, my nerves ramped up and I didn’t go anywhere without my phone.  My mother-in-law had offered weeks before to have my girls over that afternoon and evening for a sleepover, and this was another example of God’s hand on this situation.  I was so anxious, and it helped tremendously to not have to worry about the mundane, day to day tasks with my girls while trying to hide my fear and anxiety from them.  I was able to focus on myself, my attitude, trying to keep my fear and anxiety at bay, and pray a lot.  About 4:30 my phone rang and it was the hospital.  My heart stopped.  I answered and it was the radiologist.  He said that he was in my husband’s office on speaker phone and had the test results.  For some reason I got my hopes up, thinking that if he had already told my husband, it must be good news.  Wrong.  He had not told him anything yet, and proceeded to tell us together that unfortunately, the biopsy did show a type of cancer called DCIS.  He immediately tried to encourage me by saying that if you are going to get a cancer diagnosis, this is the type that you want to get.  I was in shock and ended the phone call as fast as I could.  My husband would be home from work soon and I wanted to process all of this together with him in person, not over the phone.

When my husband arrived home a short time later, I collapsed into a pile of tears and he was the rock that I needed.  He told me that the radiologist had assured him that this was not nearly as bad as it could be and that he had done some quick internet research on DCIS before he left work and found that it has a 99% survival rate.  I was ecstatic to hear that.  Once again, I was grasping for any hope that someone could offer me.  Regardless, that was a terrible evening that I will never forget.  I am so grateful that our girls were not there and that I didn’t have to hide my fear and sadness.  Of course I immediately wanted to know what the next step would be, and my husband told me that we needed to have an MRI done of my breasts to see if there was any more cancer.  Apparently mammograms don’t show the same level of detail as an MRI, and often times an MRI will reveal even more cancer.  I asked how soon this could be done, because the waiting was going to be unbearable for me.   My husband texted the radiologist and the radiology director (perks of him working at the hospital and these being his colleagues) and they quickly got me scheduled for 7:00 am the next morning.  Once again, God knew exactly what I needed and He provided.  The MRI machine was booked up for weeks, but the wonderful MRI tech and nurse had agreed to come in early the next morning, before their first patient, and do my scan.  I was grateful beyond words.

Up Next:  The MRI