Walk the path in widdershins...
I have not posted here for a long time. This is because I was trying to not simply put up bad news all the time. I had precious little good to say though. It wasn't -horrible-, but I have been growing... discouraged. But there are some folks who will not find out other than through this medium, and so, I say it here as I have said it the one other place I visit in fits and starts.
August 10th was my 35th birthday. I spent it in San Francisco, in a hospital, finding out I have breast cancer.
I have walked this road before. A few years back I had a bit of a breast cancer scare, and have had issues with the right one since. Back then, they called it an atypical papilloma - and papillomas are usually benign. So mine was. But that 'atypical', ah, that was the kicker. It wasn't just a solid growth they could remove - when I went in for the lumpectomy, I woke up with a hell of a big scar, and was told that they took out as much as they could, but that it had tendrils everywhere. They couldn't remove it all. They sent me to UCSF for them to have a look. They recommended I get tested for the breast cancer gene as I have a strong family history of it, and get an MRI. Which, I found on going back home to the piece of shit county hospital that I was getting financial assistance through, the very program that had sent me there would not pay for the test because it couldn't be done there, and wouldn't pay for the MRI because it wasn't necessary as I didn't have cancer. It was benign. Years go by. I live with a worsening bloody discharge that means I wear a big, waterproof band-aid over my nipple 24/7. About two to three weeks ago, I start feeling tender. As days pass, it blooms into rather excruciating pain that doesn't allow me to sleep or wear a bra without stealing from my mother's supply of pain pills for her knee. When I had to ask her for some so that I could both sleep and continue working, she took one look at it and promptly began panicking. She dragged me to the doctor, who prescribed me my own painkillers and antibiotics, and told me to get a specialist to look at it. So we made an appointment for UCSF again. In the meantime, it developed into an abscess. Rather ugly, painful, but at least (so I thought) a simple explanation. It finally opened up, I drained the nasty thing, and I went to the doctor again, figuring he'd tell me now that it had drained the healing would start, I'd be fine. That's how it works on all the cat abscesses I see at work, anyhow.
Not so on human breasts, apparently, especially with 'irregularities' already present. He still told me to go to UCSF, saying I might need the thing surgically opened up and cleaned out, and that would take a specialist since breast tissue was so vascular. I take the trip to San Francisco, bite the bullet and pay for the appointment since yeah, still no insurance, and once there, when the nurse practitioner takes the history and takes a look, and says 'you should get a mammogram, an ultrasound, and a biopsy', I naturally say I can't afford any of those. We're talking thousands of dollars.
She looked me in the eye, said "Take out a loan, declare bankruptcy, let them garnish your wages, whatever you have to, but get these done, preferably now."
...yeah. A bit on the scary side, that. But no less than - after much tears and arguing with my mother, who was more alarmed than me - when I get the mammogram and ultrasound done that day right there, the doctor tells me it's one of three things. Infection, cancer, or both.
That's two of my three options that had cancer in them. I didn't like those odds. I went in for a biopsy a few days later, with all the attendant needles and freaking out on my part that that meant. (I hate needles. Pretty damn near phobic. I've accidently slammed nurses against the wall, and my attention wasn't even on -them- at the time, but the doctor trying to poke me.) All this is out of pocket. My grandmother, my mom, my stepfather, they're the ones ponying up the ungodly amount of money. Something like six grand altogether, and that's with a bloody discount for paying up front. That doesn't make me feel any better about this either. Ironically enough, if it -is- cancer, I'll be able to not only get further treatment covered, but all this reimbursed. If it isn't though, I'm just shit out of luck. Lovely system we have. I didn't get the results until the following Friday. A message on my voicemail was left saying that they didn't find any cancer, however both nurse practitioner, doctor, and ultrasonagrapher were just concerned that they were missing it, and didn't get a good enough sample. They were working to either get a surgeon in my area to do an incisional biopsy, or wanted me to come back in for a fine needle aspirate biopsy in a couple days. They even got the doctor who would do so to reduce the cost by a grand, so instead of upwards of 1200 dollars, it wound up close to six hundred. These people are far and away the best, kindest, and most genuinely concerned I've ever met in the medical profession, and so different from the ones at Natividad it's night and day. I went in for the FNA today (happy birthday, have more needles in your boob) and got the results within a half hour.
They didn't miss it this time. It's official. I have breast cancer. The day was spent in the hospital, filling out forms, getting poked and prodded by more people than my boobs have ever been exposed to in my life, and trying to figure out what to do now.
The upshot is, I'm now on that program to help cover costs, and perhaps even get some back retroactively. I'm going to be on antibiotics longer, to try and get rid of the lingering infection since nothing can be done until that clears up. If the antibiotics don't do it, they'll take a punch biopsy to make sure the cancer isn't in/affecting the skin, which is still pretty red even though the abscess itself seems to have resolved pretty well. Next Thursday is when I go back for them to look at it and possibly do that, and surgery options will be gone over then.
August 10th was my 35th birthday. I spent it in San Francisco, in a hospital, finding out I have breast cancer.
I have walked this road before. A few years back I had a bit of a breast cancer scare, and have had issues with the right one since. Back then, they called it an atypical papilloma - and papillomas are usually benign. So mine was. But that 'atypical', ah, that was the kicker. It wasn't just a solid growth they could remove - when I went in for the lumpectomy, I woke up with a hell of a big scar, and was told that they took out as much as they could, but that it had tendrils everywhere. They couldn't remove it all. They sent me to UCSF for them to have a look. They recommended I get tested for the breast cancer gene as I have a strong family history of it, and get an MRI. Which, I found on going back home to the piece of shit county hospital that I was getting financial assistance through, the very program that had sent me there would not pay for the test because it couldn't be done there, and wouldn't pay for the MRI because it wasn't necessary as I didn't have cancer. It was benign. Years go by. I live with a worsening bloody discharge that means I wear a big, waterproof band-aid over my nipple 24/7. About two to three weeks ago, I start feeling tender. As days pass, it blooms into rather excruciating pain that doesn't allow me to sleep or wear a bra without stealing from my mother's supply of pain pills for her knee. When I had to ask her for some so that I could both sleep and continue working, she took one look at it and promptly began panicking. She dragged me to the doctor, who prescribed me my own painkillers and antibiotics, and told me to get a specialist to look at it. So we made an appointment for UCSF again. In the meantime, it developed into an abscess. Rather ugly, painful, but at least (so I thought) a simple explanation. It finally opened up, I drained the nasty thing, and I went to the doctor again, figuring he'd tell me now that it had drained the healing would start, I'd be fine. That's how it works on all the cat abscesses I see at work, anyhow.
Not so on human breasts, apparently, especially with 'irregularities' already present. He still told me to go to UCSF, saying I might need the thing surgically opened up and cleaned out, and that would take a specialist since breast tissue was so vascular. I take the trip to San Francisco, bite the bullet and pay for the appointment since yeah, still no insurance, and once there, when the nurse practitioner takes the history and takes a look, and says 'you should get a mammogram, an ultrasound, and a biopsy', I naturally say I can't afford any of those. We're talking thousands of dollars.
She looked me in the eye, said "Take out a loan, declare bankruptcy, let them garnish your wages, whatever you have to, but get these done, preferably now."
...yeah. A bit on the scary side, that. But no less than - after much tears and arguing with my mother, who was more alarmed than me - when I get the mammogram and ultrasound done that day right there, the doctor tells me it's one of three things. Infection, cancer, or both.
That's two of my three options that had cancer in them. I didn't like those odds. I went in for a biopsy a few days later, with all the attendant needles and freaking out on my part that that meant. (I hate needles. Pretty damn near phobic. I've accidently slammed nurses against the wall, and my attention wasn't even on -them- at the time, but the doctor trying to poke me.) All this is out of pocket. My grandmother, my mom, my stepfather, they're the ones ponying up the ungodly amount of money. Something like six grand altogether, and that's with a bloody discount for paying up front. That doesn't make me feel any better about this either. Ironically enough, if it -is- cancer, I'll be able to not only get further treatment covered, but all this reimbursed. If it isn't though, I'm just shit out of luck. Lovely system we have. I didn't get the results until the following Friday. A message on my voicemail was left saying that they didn't find any cancer, however both nurse practitioner, doctor, and ultrasonagrapher were just concerned that they were missing it, and didn't get a good enough sample. They were working to either get a surgeon in my area to do an incisional biopsy, or wanted me to come back in for a fine needle aspirate biopsy in a couple days. They even got the doctor who would do so to reduce the cost by a grand, so instead of upwards of 1200 dollars, it wound up close to six hundred. These people are far and away the best, kindest, and most genuinely concerned I've ever met in the medical profession, and so different from the ones at Natividad it's night and day. I went in for the FNA today (happy birthday, have more needles in your boob) and got the results within a half hour.
They didn't miss it this time. It's official. I have breast cancer. The day was spent in the hospital, filling out forms, getting poked and prodded by more people than my boobs have ever been exposed to in my life, and trying to figure out what to do now.
The upshot is, I'm now on that program to help cover costs, and perhaps even get some back retroactively. I'm going to be on antibiotics longer, to try and get rid of the lingering infection since nothing can be done until that clears up. If the antibiotics don't do it, they'll take a punch biopsy to make sure the cancer isn't in/affecting the skin, which is still pretty red even though the abscess itself seems to have resolved pretty well. Next Thursday is when I go back for them to look at it and possibly do that, and surgery options will be gone over then.