Tina’s Tribe

I had a double mastectomy on April 25 at American Fork Hospital by Dr Jennifer Tittensor. Dr Mark Jensen placed expanders at the same time to prepare for breast reconstruction surgery which will take place in a few months. A sentinel node biopsy showed no cancer cells in the lymph nodes, but we won't be out of the woods until final test results come in next week. Hopes and prayers that radiation and chemotherapy will not be part of my treatment needs. 

My family was AMAZING!!!! We were told that only two adults and absolutely no children could be in the waiting room during my surgery, so my husband Ken planned to be there, and my daughter Ashli would join him after she dropped her two little boys off with their other grandma. When I got to the hospital, however, I had a whole tribe waiting for me. All dressed in matching t-shirts, holding flowers that they each handed to me. My mom had seven children when she died at age 39 of breast cancer. My dad never remarried. All of my siblings but one were there at the hospital, and my sweet dad was at the head of the line. All of my children, their spouses, all of my grandchildren. Those who couldn't attend in person posted pictures on facebook of them wearing pink for me the day of my surgery. I am so blessed to have this amazing family. 

The Week Before Surgery

It's been a LONG week. We saw the breast surgeon on Tuesday(who introduced herself as "Jennifer" btw, immediately putting me at ease) and scheduled a double mastectomy for April 25. I had an MRI on Friday. Ok THAT is pretty much one of the most unpleasant experiences ever. I'm super proud of myself for holding still and simply making it through. Apparently it could have been worse, though. For a breast MRI, you lie on your stomach and literally scoop your breasts down into these two holes. Your head is lying on a pillow like the ones on a massage table. And the similarities to a massage table end there. But, going into the tube facedown apparently causes less claustrophobic panic than going in face up. So there's that.  

All the bells and whistles are still there, though. And by that I mean super loud bursts of all sorts of different sounds, from knocking to banging to clanging. 

 Ken has been AMAZING this week. He's been there for everything. Tuesday, he took me to Build-a-Bear and we built a pink bear named BooBoo with Ken's voice recorded saying "I love you baby". We bought button-top pajamas, soft socks and slippers for the hospital. He took me to lunch at Tucanos. He tries to assure me that I will still be me without the 42 DD's that I've had for the last 20 years. 

But I still worry that my grandbabies will never sleep as comfortably on Nana's chest as Staten did today. 

Diagnosis Day

They said the results of the biopsy would take 3-4 business days, putting at us at like April 10. So, when the phone call came on April 6, the day after the biospy, I knew. I was even prepared for it. Dr Bastian had told Ashli and Ken the truth at the biopsy. He told them he couldn't say for sure without the official biopsy result, but he thought it looked like a stage 1 cancerous lesion. 

So I was ready for the news. Yet, I wasn't ready for the news. I was tending Staten that day. Ken was at work. It was just me and the little man when the call came. And he had that little smile that Staten always has. He's always going to be a look-on-the-bright-side kind of guy :) 

Geri actually gave me the news herself. Dr Frischknecht wasn't in that day and she knew I'd want to know that day, a Friday, rather than wait all weekend. She was right. I was glad she called. She cried and told me she loves me, that's it's Stage 1 and the prognosis is really good. I cried for a while. And I've cried some since then, but mostly, it's OK. Mostly, it's easy to stay positive. I have a great team surrounding me, lots of support. 

Biopsy

Girls like us are supposed to get a mammogram every year. Mom died of breast cancer at age 39. So why they make you wait until age 40 to get yearly mammos makes no sense to me. But, anyway... age 40, 41, 42... mammograms. At 48, I got a great new job, I was crazy busy and didn't get my mammogram done. So I made sure not to miss it this year. March 26, 2018. Age 49. This was followed by a form letter stating that my mammogram was abnormal. I've had abnormal mammograms before, but this just felt different from the minute I opened the envelope. I needed an ultrasound guided biopsy which I had on April 5. Because there is absolutely no sense in needless worrying, I only told Ken and Ashli that I was having the biopsy. And they were there for it. 

Yeah, it was pretty much the scariest thing I've ever done. 

But this guy was there for me. I couldn't look at the computer screen, or the biopsy gun, or anything but Ken. He said "You have pretty blue eyes" just before Ashli took this picture. 

And he just made it better. 

The biopsy was nothing like I expected it would be. You hear "needle biopsy" and you think it's no big deal,  right? But the needle is actually one needle inside of another needle, all inside of a loud gun. Sort of like an ear piercing gun, I guess is the best way to describe it. Dr Bastian numbed it up before the procedure, but yeah, it was still pretty unpleasant. The inside needle draws tissue out and pulls it up into the sheath created by the outside needle. He drops the sample in a cup and does it again. Like 6 times, I think.  

The biopsy site looked pretty awful for a few days there. But I'm pretty sure this will seem like nothing in the weeks ahead! 

I'm Joining the Pink Hat Society

It happened. I have breast cancer. And, yeah, I chose this picture because of the cleavage. I'm planning on a double mastectomy. I see the surgeon on Tuesday. Her name is Dr TITTENSOR!! I am not joking. A breast surgeon whose name sounds like sore tits. I've been prepared for this possibility for 31 years, since breast cancer stole my mom. Yet, I am completely unprepared at the same time.