It was July of 2010 when I received the test results. For whatever reason, probably just putting things off, life in general~~it was September before I went back to the oncologist.
She scheduled me for a breast MRI and a transvaginal ultrasound. You have to go through so much before you can actually commit to surgery. What I didn't know was that I was scheduled for these things, especially the transvaginal ultrasound.
I had both of those done September 2010.
The imaging office called to confirm my appointment~~huh? My appointment? No one told me about an appointment. Complete surprise to me. So after some talking with the nurse who called me, it got straightened out. All she wanted to do was some preliminary paper work, let me know how long I might be there, anything that could be done in advance.
I called my oncologist just to confirm what was going on. Her usual nurse had quit and the transition had not exactly gone great and my name and what was going on had just gotten shuffled around.
One thing the nurse had a hard time understanding was that I had no symptoms, no inflammatory disease, no cancer; all I was doing was being a pre-vivor~~is that a word? Is now...
Off to the imaging office my husband and I go. I had a vague idea of what an MRI involved, but not the transvaginal ultrasound. When I get there, the receptionist says "you were supposed to be here a half hour ago" HUH? No one told me that. All I knew at that point was that I was to have a breast MRI, then I got the great *eyeball roll here* news that I was to have a transvaginal ultrasound.
In an MRI they put you on a bed, slide you into a tube that has lots of noises, give you a panic button, ear plugs, and try to put you at ease. In a breast MRI you get to lay on your stomach, they try to make you as comfortable as possible, then they pull your breasts through a couple holes~~no easy way to do that~~then you lay there for 45 minutes listening to all these clicks and clacks and pings and lots of other noises.
After a while they shoot some dye into the IV, you feel it going in and get a funky feeling everywhere and I mean everywhere!! You keep hearing the techs asking you if you are o.k., not much you can do lying there, your boobs hanging out for what you think is all the world to see, although I am sure all the tech sees are objects, nothing more.
After 45 minutes, you get up as gracefully as possible, especially with a gown that opens in the front and you go to another room. At this point, I think I was told to empty my bladder. No biggy, I can pee as great as the next person.
Off to have the ultrasound. Now, not knowing I was going to have this, I hadn't done any research about it, not talked with my mom about it. But, you lay on the bed and are handed a wand and asked to insert it into your vagina. Looks like a dildo if you ask me, but you know this one does not give any pleasure. Once again, I have to explain to the tech that I don't have any symptoms. All she is doing is preliminary work to make sure there are no signs of cancer. You have on your gown, that's it. It didn't take very long, as I remember. Just uncomfortable.
Test results will be either phoned to you, you Dr. will call you, you will get something in the mail. Probably all three, but that was last September, i don't remember for sure what it was.
When you have all this done, been in varying states of undress, been poked, prodded, scanned and a what feels like a multitude of things, you really begin to think this is for real.
Until now, it's just been checking, making sure the plumbing is working o.k., but once you get all examined, thoroughly examined, you have to come to terms with being diagnosed BRCA, HBOC predisposed to getting this cancer.
I don't know that you ever come to terms with it, ever accept it, but you realize that surgery & menopause are much better alternatives to cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, putting your family, possibly, through months of treatments, and all the side effects that go along with it.
I called my oncologist just to confirm what was going on. Her usual nurse had quit and the transition had not exactly gone great and my name and what was going on had just gotten shuffled around.
One thing the nurse had a hard time understanding was that I had no symptoms, no inflammatory disease, no cancer; all I was doing was being a pre-vivor~~is that a word? Is now...
Off to the imaging office my husband and I go. I had a vague idea of what an MRI involved, but not the transvaginal ultrasound. When I get there, the receptionist says "you were supposed to be here a half hour ago" HUH? No one told me that. All I knew at that point was that I was to have a breast MRI, then I got the great *eyeball roll here* news that I was to have a transvaginal ultrasound.
In an MRI they put you on a bed, slide you into a tube that has lots of noises, give you a panic button, ear plugs, and try to put you at ease. In a breast MRI you get to lay on your stomach, they try to make you as comfortable as possible, then they pull your breasts through a couple holes~~no easy way to do that~~then you lay there for 45 minutes listening to all these clicks and clacks and pings and lots of other noises.
After a while they shoot some dye into the IV, you feel it going in and get a funky feeling everywhere and I mean everywhere!! You keep hearing the techs asking you if you are o.k., not much you can do lying there, your boobs hanging out for what you think is all the world to see, although I am sure all the tech sees are objects, nothing more.
After 45 minutes, you get up as gracefully as possible, especially with a gown that opens in the front and you go to another room. At this point, I think I was told to empty my bladder. No biggy, I can pee as great as the next person.
Off to have the ultrasound. Now, not knowing I was going to have this, I hadn't done any research about it, not talked with my mom about it. But, you lay on the bed and are handed a wand and asked to insert it into your vagina. Looks like a dildo if you ask me, but you know this one does not give any pleasure. Once again, I have to explain to the tech that I don't have any symptoms. All she is doing is preliminary work to make sure there are no signs of cancer. You have on your gown, that's it. It didn't take very long, as I remember. Just uncomfortable.
Test results will be either phoned to you, you Dr. will call you, you will get something in the mail. Probably all three, but that was last September, i don't remember for sure what it was.
When you have all this done, been in varying states of undress, been poked, prodded, scanned and a what feels like a multitude of things, you really begin to think this is for real.
Until now, it's just been checking, making sure the plumbing is working o.k., but once you get all examined, thoroughly examined, you have to come to terms with being diagnosed BRCA, HBOC predisposed to getting this cancer.
I don't know that you ever come to terms with it, ever accept it, but you realize that surgery & menopause are much better alternatives to cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, putting your family, possibly, through months of treatments, and all the side effects that go along with it.
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