Needle In A Hay Stack
I was a little scared to go to the oncologist last week because everything has been going so well lately. I just knew he'd find something wrong. I finally remembered to call today and get my tumor marker scores and I got more good news. My CA27.29 score was the lowest it has ever been; this is a good thing. If it gets too high, then we worry, but it can drop all it wants too!
A year ago today I had my biopsy. I pretty much knew going in that day what the result was going to be and the doctor who did the biopsy only strengthened my suspicions. While I was getting prepped, he asked me if I had scheduled an MRI because it looked like a cluster of tumors and they had tentacles. Though this was the first I had heard of an MRI, my internet searches had taught me that "tentacles" was not a good thing. Plus, if he was already thinking ahead to the next test, I knew it probably wasn't good news.
I got a local anesthetic and the doctor made an incision about a half inch long at an angle to the tumor location. He used an ultrasound machine to see what he was doing. Into the incision he inserted a gigantic needle. It was about the same size as a drinking straw and had another smaller needle inside of it. At the end of the needle in his hand was a button that caused the smaller needle to plunge into the tumor and pull back a sample. The whole device was vaccuum powered and every time he hit the button it sounded and felt like a staple gun to the chest.
I could see the needle on the ultrasound each time it plunged into the tumor. This may make it sound worse than it was, but I thought it was absolutlely fascinating. If you could separate yourself from why it was happening, it was good to have something else to think about. Each little sample was maybe an inch long and about as wide as a coffee stirrer. They were placed in a vial with some sort of solution and when all was said and done, it looked like seven or eight worms swimming around. Yes, I asked to see the samples. I have to know how everything works and what is happening. And I thought maybe cancer would be neon orange or somehow look different.
A small clip made of about as much metal as an office staple and twisted into the same shape as the pink ribbon was then inserted into the area that was biopsied and I had a mammogram to make sure they had gotten it into the right spot. This clip was to make sure the right tissue was removed at the time of surgery. They taped the incision closed, gave me an ice pack and sent me on my way. The whole thing took no more than 30 minutes and I was never in any actual pain. I just felt like I'd been punched in the chest for a few days.
I asked the doctor how long it would take to get the results. The biopsy was done on a Tuesday and he said he thought I should know something by Thursday or Friday. I spent every minute of the next four days on edge, just praying it was all some sort of mistake.
Today was definitely a much better day than a year ago. The most painful part of my day was commuting to Tysons Corner this morning. Better than a staple gun to the boob any day!
A year ago today I had my biopsy. I pretty much knew going in that day what the result was going to be and the doctor who did the biopsy only strengthened my suspicions. While I was getting prepped, he asked me if I had scheduled an MRI because it looked like a cluster of tumors and they had tentacles. Though this was the first I had heard of an MRI, my internet searches had taught me that "tentacles" was not a good thing. Plus, if he was already thinking ahead to the next test, I knew it probably wasn't good news.
I got a local anesthetic and the doctor made an incision about a half inch long at an angle to the tumor location. He used an ultrasound machine to see what he was doing. Into the incision he inserted a gigantic needle. It was about the same size as a drinking straw and had another smaller needle inside of it. At the end of the needle in his hand was a button that caused the smaller needle to plunge into the tumor and pull back a sample. The whole device was vaccuum powered and every time he hit the button it sounded and felt like a staple gun to the chest.
I could see the needle on the ultrasound each time it plunged into the tumor. This may make it sound worse than it was, but I thought it was absolutlely fascinating. If you could separate yourself from why it was happening, it was good to have something else to think about. Each little sample was maybe an inch long and about as wide as a coffee stirrer. They were placed in a vial with some sort of solution and when all was said and done, it looked like seven or eight worms swimming around. Yes, I asked to see the samples. I have to know how everything works and what is happening. And I thought maybe cancer would be neon orange or somehow look different.
A small clip made of about as much metal as an office staple and twisted into the same shape as the pink ribbon was then inserted into the area that was biopsied and I had a mammogram to make sure they had gotten it into the right spot. This clip was to make sure the right tissue was removed at the time of surgery. They taped the incision closed, gave me an ice pack and sent me on my way. The whole thing took no more than 30 minutes and I was never in any actual pain. I just felt like I'd been punched in the chest for a few days.
I asked the doctor how long it would take to get the results. The biopsy was done on a Tuesday and he said he thought I should know something by Thursday or Friday. I spent every minute of the next four days on edge, just praying it was all some sort of mistake.
Today was definitely a much better day than a year ago. The most painful part of my day was commuting to Tysons Corner this morning. Better than a staple gun to the boob any day!
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