Le doctor.
Today I went back to my breast specialist, who I first saw last year when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I have seen her a couple times since then, and I have a lot of faith in her - she really knows her stuff. Unfortunately, I had to see her new nurse practitioner first, who used to work at the Cancer Center I go to. I really don't like her. I didn't like her there and I don't like her here. She's a very warm-fuzzy touchy feely kind of person, and while I tolerate that in most people, I can't stand it in my doctoring staff, especially since the cancer. I don't want warm fuzzy touchy feely. I want serious attention and intelligence. I want them to seriously consider what I'm saying and tell me what, based on their vast experience, I am experiencing. I want them to ask probing questions, not how my Christmas was. Nor do I want them to spend five sentences telling me that their hands are cold and why their hands are cold and that the antibacterial gel they use makes it worse. I care not, I tell you. Ahem. *steps off soap box*
I was kind of worried at this appointment because I've been having a lot of breast pain on the side that had the cancer and I could feel some lumps, although I wasn't sure if they were cysts or the cancer starting back up. (Most of me thought it couldn't develop that fast, but after you have cancer, everything makes you worry.) Anyway, (once the nurse practitioner stopped prattling away) the doctor felt things all over and did an ultrasound of the lumps and determined that yes, they were cysts and also a large seroma, which is a large fluid-filled space that can occur after you have surgery. It's not a hematoma, which is filled with blood, or an abscess, which is an infection, but it's kind of similar and can be painful. I seemed to get the pain around the time I got my period back last month, so the cysts could also be related to that. Changes in breast tissue are sensitive to hormones. I also had a little spot that looked like a scar to me, but the doctor wasn't sure it had been there before, so she did a little biopsy. She didn't think it was anything and didn't see anything on the mammogram or ultrasound, and my gut feeling is that it's nothing, but I guess it's better to be safe. So now I have one giant ice-packed boob and one regular boob and people keep looking at my chest. Eh. Whatever.
Mom is getting sicker. She has a really hard time getting out of her chair now, so I'm back to going over there right after work to help out with things. She has a lady come and help her shower and the hospice people, and a friend who cleans (and thank goodness for that, because I barely clean my own house, let alone mom's too, oy). My brother has been staying two nights a week so I can go home and sleep in my own bed and see Pat and the cats. Next week my aunt is coming to stay with my mom 24 hours a day, so that will be good. I worry about her on the days when no one is there with her.
I don't stop and think about it very often, but then it will hit me that my mom is dying. Pretty soon, she's not going to be here and I will officially be parent-less. Part of it will be a relief because she won't be suffering anymore and will be with dad, but I am going to have a huge hole in my life and that scares the crap out of me. I love her so much. I am afraid of being alone without her. (Granted, I will have Pat and my family and his family and all our friends, so I am never truly alone. It's just kind of a scary thought.)
Anyway, so as to not leave this post on a down note, here's a funny text conversation I had with Pat last night:
Me: I made and ordered my own Black Swan calendar from Vistaprint - does that make me a dork?
Pat: Yes, but you're my fork.
Me: Lol, I'm your fork.
Pat: Stupid autocorrect!
Lol. I ♥ him.
I was kind of worried at this appointment because I've been having a lot of breast pain on the side that had the cancer and I could feel some lumps, although I wasn't sure if they were cysts or the cancer starting back up. (Most of me thought it couldn't develop that fast, but after you have cancer, everything makes you worry.) Anyway, (once the nurse practitioner stopped prattling away) the doctor felt things all over and did an ultrasound of the lumps and determined that yes, they were cysts and also a large seroma, which is a large fluid-filled space that can occur after you have surgery. It's not a hematoma, which is filled with blood, or an abscess, which is an infection, but it's kind of similar and can be painful. I seemed to get the pain around the time I got my period back last month, so the cysts could also be related to that. Changes in breast tissue are sensitive to hormones. I also had a little spot that looked like a scar to me, but the doctor wasn't sure it had been there before, so she did a little biopsy. She didn't think it was anything and didn't see anything on the mammogram or ultrasound, and my gut feeling is that it's nothing, but I guess it's better to be safe. So now I have one giant ice-packed boob and one regular boob and people keep looking at my chest. Eh. Whatever.
Mom is getting sicker. She has a really hard time getting out of her chair now, so I'm back to going over there right after work to help out with things. She has a lady come and help her shower and the hospice people, and a friend who cleans (and thank goodness for that, because I barely clean my own house, let alone mom's too, oy). My brother has been staying two nights a week so I can go home and sleep in my own bed and see Pat and the cats. Next week my aunt is coming to stay with my mom 24 hours a day, so that will be good. I worry about her on the days when no one is there with her.
I don't stop and think about it very often, but then it will hit me that my mom is dying. Pretty soon, she's not going to be here and I will officially be parent-less. Part of it will be a relief because she won't be suffering anymore and will be with dad, but I am going to have a huge hole in my life and that scares the crap out of me. I love her so much. I am afraid of being alone without her. (Granted, I will have Pat and my family and his family and all our friends, so I am never truly alone. It's just kind of a scary thought.)
Anyway, so as to not leave this post on a down note, here's a funny text conversation I had with Pat last night:
Me: I made and ordered my own Black Swan calendar from Vistaprint - does that make me a dork?
Pat: Yes, but you're my fork.
Me: Lol, I'm your fork.
Pat: Stupid autocorrect!
Lol. I ♥ him.