My GYN is incredible, and she ordered a "baseline" mammogram for me at my yearly appointment in May. She said it was no rush (because of previously addressed lack of family history), so I didn't schedule it immediately (see also: I forgot and was busy). I felt the lump in my right breast in October, and was also experiencing some pain between my breast and armpit. Those events prompted me to call and schedule my mammogram, order in hand. BUT! Once you have a lump, you can't just use your original order. You have to go back to your doctor, get a new order for a 3D mammogram and ultrasound, and then schedule your appointment.
While I delayed getting my mammogram initially and have a head full of "what ifs," the timing of the following events worked out perfectly for me and my diagnosis. I saw my doctor on November 6th, she ordered my tests, and sent me to her office's surgery scheduler. My preference was to wait and go to the imaging center closest to home on November 24th, but she encouraged me to "just get the appointment over with" by going to a Breast Center at a hospital a bit farther from home three days later, on November 9th.
I went alone, convinced that because it was painful I only had a cyst. The mammogram was first, and though it was my first experience with one, it seemed normal. I was sent back to the waiting room until my ultrasound, and it was there that I began to get anxious. The wait took forever, and because I'm a worrier by nature, I began to panic.
Once I was called back to the ultrasound room, the radiology tech measured the lump in my breast, clicking the measurements along the way. It seemed pretty routine and not at all out of the ordinary for the first few minutes. She moved the wand up an inch or two to my armpit, and that was followed by more clicks. I knew that if she was measuring something there, whatever was in my breast had spread. I began to panic, and she told me she was going to talk to the radiologist about what she saw.
This is me, as I waited for her to come back with the radiologist. My stomach was in knots and I was feeling a little shell shocked. I knew something bad was coming.
And it did. The radiologist came in, handed me a box of tissues, and told me that she saw two very concerning spots - one on my right breast, and another in a lymph node in my right armpit. She wanted a biopsy done as soon as possible so that we could figure out exactly what was going on. I walked out in tears, and cried through the dreary ride home. This didn't seem like the kind of news that you break to your husband over the phone, so I resisted the urge to call Brian as I drove.
My biopsy was the following week, on November 15th. The radiologist initially wanted me to see a breast surgeon for my biopsy, but a surgeon couldn't fit me in until December 13th (which was a month away!), so she opted to do it herself, in the same room where I had my ultrasound. The doctor and the tech were nice and talked to me about my kids and theirs, which kept my anxiety at bay. I left feeling a bit better about it all, with another appointment scheduled to discuss the results the following week.
November 21st is the day that changed my life. I went to meet the radiologist for my results, and walked out with a Breast Cancer diagnosis, a Nurse Navigator, and an appointment with the best local breast surgeon.
But this is where the entire process was about the right people, the right timing, and medical professionals who really care. Because my insurance company wouldn't cover my GYN's imaging center, her scheduler sent me to a local large hospital network. By sending me to the hospital that was farther away, I was diagnosed earlier. And because the radiologist didn't want me to wait a month for a biopsy, I was diagnosed earlier. And because I was sent to that exact location, I was put in the hands of a fantastic surgeon, who immediately cleared a spot for me in her schedule. The afternoon of my diagnosis could have been filled with so many more "what ifs" but instead she spent an hour in her office with Brian and I, answering questions and giving me the specifics of my treatment plan. Chemo. Surgery. Radiation. She insisted that she put in my port herself instead of having it done by a general surgeon, and she found me an excellent oncologist who we also adore. I may have waited, but that allowed everything else to work the way it needed to.
I hope and believe that serendipitous timing will continue through this process. There have been more small things that have shown me that I am in the most excellent hands, and I'm so thankful that the little moments worked to assemble me an amazing team of people who are helping me kick cancer's ass.
Beautifully written, Britt.
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