How it all started

How My Journey Began

It all began in February of 2014.
"What's that?" asked my husband, Peter, as he was feeling a lump on the side of my breast.  "I don't know!" I snapped back, in a concerned yet I don't want you to know that I am concerned voice.

So you could imagine my next step was to go straight to my gynecologist to figure out what was  going on.  She felt the lump and the tissue around it and the other side.  She didn't have a definitive diagnosis, so she sent me to Zwanger and Pesiri Radiology (which I found to be like a workshop and I felt like a number and not a patient) to get a mammography.  I am proud to say that it is/was my ONLY mammography that I will ever have for the rest of my life- honestly, I am very much OK with that!  After reading the results, she still wasn't sure so she sent me to a breast surgeon to have further testing done; begrudgingly I obliged.

I walked into his waiting room that was beautiful in nature; complete with a waterfall, plants, and televisions that showed random health facts and pharmaceutical drugs with a tremendous list of side effects.  After an extremely long wait time and a lot of paperwork, I was finally brought into the exam room; where the doctor did a physical exam.  For some reason, at this time I felt humiliated and embarrassed, like I did something wrong.  Anyways, he told me that a diagnosis could not be made without further testing, specifically a biopsy.  So, he sent me to a woman's health radiologist for a biopsy- this place and the doctor were amazing!  The waiting room and office were nothing special- there were chairs and magazines and a reception desk; yet somehow, I felt very safe and well taken care of.  The doctor brought me into her office to talk to me about the procedure.  She spoke to me in a way that didn't make me feel stupid nor scared about what was happening.  From there, I changed and she performed the biopsy, talking to me throughout the whole time.  It honestly wasn't as bad as I imagined.  This occurred on Friday, February 28.  She told me that I would get the results on Monday- she reassured me that she would call me as soon as she found out and not to worry and to have a great weekend. Well I did the best I could...

Monday, March 3 (which is my mother's birthday) came around and I woke up like any other Monday and got ready and went to work (I was a TA in a school district at the time).  The students arrived at 8am and they had a special first period, so I was in my room getting ready for the day.  Then suddenly, around 8:10am, my phone rang- I immediately knew the number, it was the radiologist.  I couldn't believe she found out already.  Before anything else was said, I heard, "I am so sorry Michelle, but you have breast cancer," she stated in a very sorrowful voice (it truly sounded like she was sorry).  As you could imagine my heart sank, I was speechless, and I couldn't believe the words that were being told to me.  I am sure there was more to the conversation, I honestly do not remember it.  I just remember feeling lost and 'what am I going to do now,'  'what about my kids?' and literally sobbing uncontrollably.   I remember trying to tell my husband but words were not coming out, so one of my co-workers'/friend helped me relay the message to Peter.  Another conversation that I do not remember a lot of.  The news spread like wildfire throughout the building and I was told to go home and be with my family.  So I drove home, very slowly, where I met Pete and I just melted in his arms.  Although, he never cried in front me, I could feel him shaking as he held me for what seemed like hours. That night, we were surrounded by family and friends that were consoling Peter and I as well as trying to keep my kids busy.  I can't remember the next few days, as I drowned my sorrow in bottles, yes I said bottles, of wine.  After I finally came to grips with the reality of having breast cancer, I knew that I needed to do something about it.  I made an appointment with the breast surgeon again. 
    
On my way back to the breast surgeon I went.  Again, waited an extremely long time to be brought back into the exam room for yet another physical exam.  This time, after he was finished with the physical exam, he brought Pete and I back into his office; which was covered in figurines (if I remember correctly, they were elephants).  I thought it was very strange, at this point I didn't care because I felt I needed his help to cure me of cancer.  His discussion resulted in two options: the first being a lumpectomy, which would be the removal of the lump and more biopsies (apparently they found more dense areas in my other breast), and the second being a double mastectomy, which would remove both of my breasts, including the cancer tumor and any surrounding tissue and/or lymph nodes that were affected.  Instantaneously,  I thought well DUH! Of course the double mastectomy.  I definitely do not want to go through a biopsy again!  Peter agreed.  So I was on course for receiving a double breast mastectomy (I don't think it fully registered what was happening- I just didn't want to have cancer).

From there, he sent me to a plastic surgeon.  It was this doctor that would be taking care of the reconstruction of my breasts; whether it was filling them back up to their original size or making them bigger.  I chose to just fill them back up to their original size with silicone implants.  He said he would be able to do this directly after the removal of my natural breast tissue- which was great because that meant I didn't need another surgery.  I didn't mind this doctor because he was straight to the point, he looked at me like I was an art project (which I valued- I wasn't just a number to him), and his office wasn't anything special- chairs, and a coffee table or two with magazines.  I felt comfortable in his office under his care, and so did Pete.

After all of my consultations and recommendations with all of the doctors that would be associated with my case, I was on track for surgery on March 25, 2014.  I would be receiving a double mastectomy with reconstruction.  Needless to say, but at this point I was excited to be cancer free.  Another plus was that this type of cancer treatment was covered under my insurance, so we didn't have to pay out of pocket.

At this point in my journey, there were many feelings that were going through my head: fear, anger, betrayal,