Hello,
My name is Traci and I am 37 years old. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend. I am also a 3 1/2 year breast cancer survivor.
When I was 34 years old and pregnant with our second child, I found a tender lump underneath my left armpit. I had just finished breastfeeding our 14 month old son, Cameron, so I thought it was probably just a blocked milk duct. Being an RN, I paged my health care provider, Brenda, immediately. She agreed that it might be something simple and had me try a couple things. Nothing seemed to work so she ordered me into the office to see one of the doctor's. This was Saturday, September 9th, 2000, so I went in on Monday, September 11th (yes, 9/11). The Dr I saw in the office agreed with me that there was nothing in the breast that felt suspicious but he ordered me to go have a mammogram. I argued with him.
"Dr, I am 34 years old, no family history, and pregnant. Do I really need a mammogram?!"
He told me they weren't THAT BAD and that I was going. I felt like asking him when the last time was he had a tender body part crushed between two pieces of Plexiglas until it was the size of a pancake!! I didn't though.
I went right from the office to the Betty Ford Breast Clinic and proceeded to have my first ever mammogram. I was first examined by an RN and she said she didn't feel anything in the breast either. I then went in to have my bilateral mammogram but the Radiologist decided to only do one side because of my pregnancy. So, after getting draped with a heavy lead apron (to protect my unborn child) and having my breast squished, squeezed and squashed, I was sent back out to wait and wait and wait.....
When the technician came out I expected her to say something like, "You are all set Mrs Mulder, everything looks fine." Instead, what I heard was,
"Mrs Mulder, the Radiologist would like to get some pictures of your other breast."
Why, I asked? He had not wanted to expose me to anymore radiation than necessary. Why was this necessary???
"The Dr saw an area that is suspicious and he wants to make sure the other side is okay."
Fair enough! I want to make sure also....
After my other side was done I went back out to wait and wait and wait again (don't they know it is freezing in the waiting room when you are half naked with only a little cape on?) The nurse that first examined me came back to get me saying she wanted to examine me again. Being my first visit I didn't know this was really different from the norm. She did a thorough breast exam again and still did not feel any lumps. I felt confident that everything was fine. They then explained to me what "clusters of calcification" were. It appeared that I had an area that was a little suspicious but since I didn't have any previous films they couldn't tell if this was a change for my breast or not. They strongly recommended a biopsy.
BIOPSY!!? I didn't like that word....that word was only associated with cancer and malignancy, but, my mind and heart continued to tell me that it was nothing.
I called Brenda again when I was done and she said she would call me the minute she got the report. (The pros of working with your doctors, you can page them direct). The next day I did not hear from her for the first part of the day so I paged her. She was at the hospital waiting for a delivery so she would call the office and get the results. She called me right back and told me the same thing that the nurse at the clinic had. Recommendation: biopsy. There was that word again.
When Brenda finished her delivery and returned to the office she read the report herself and called me immediately. She said,
"Traci, I just wanted to make sure you understand the report. It reads much differently when I have it in my hands than when someone is reading it to me over the phone."
I told her I understood that it could be anything from "nothing" to "cancer", but my heart still cried out "nothing". "Okay, I just wanted to make sure you understood it." Yes, I understood, or so I thought.
Seven days later I went to pick up my mammogram films and report to take with me to the surgeon the next day. I promised myself that I wouldn't look at them since I don't know how to read or interpret films. I had the report out before I got to my car.
"Birads 5!"
What is that? Is that the best or worst?
"Highly suggestive of malignancy"???
What?? This was supposes to be nothing!!! I drove directly to where my husband worked in tears. I still don't know how I got there without getting in an accident. Luckily he saw me pull up and he came out because I was in no shape to go inside an office. I handed him the report and continued to sit there and sob. He immediately grabbed his phone and had me page Brenda again. When she heard my voice and found that I had read the report she told me to meet her at the office in 10 minutes. She must have spent at least an hour with me, talking with me, explaining things to me, crying with me, and praying with me. Thank you Brenda... you truly were Godsend.
After my appointment with the surgeon the next day where she took a needle biopsy of my swollen lymph node, we scheduled surgery for 2 days later. The Dr already knew the results of the needle biopsy but did not tell me until after she had all the information from the incisional biopsy. She had them do a frozen cross section so she would get the results immediately.
"Malignant cells"
What?
"Cancer"
Me? This can't be!! My very first question...what about my baby? What could we do to protect my baby? She said she recommended an immediate mastectomy because the edges of the biopsy were not "clean". We couldn't do reconstruction at the same time because of the pregnancy but that was fine with me...let's just get this traitorous breast off!
The next morning I got the call that we were scheduled for surgery the following Monday. Wait, I haven't even had 24 hours to digest the fact that I have cancer and you want me to have surgery in 3 days? Okay, I guess I don't have a choice, but I did. A quick call to Brenda got me in for an emergency ultrasound to confirm the dates of my pregnancy.
Oh my God no!!! No baby, what do you mean no baby?
"We are sorry, you have a sac but the baby is gone."
Gone? Gone where? To the corner for some milk? WHERE? I watched as my husband broke down in tears and heard the words I had just spoken earlier echo in my ears
"it would have been better if I hadn't been pregnant at this time because we wouldn't have to worry about what the treatment will do to our child."
Oh God, can I take those words back? Can I have my baby back? Please! I promise to never ever ever speak those words again! I promise to do whatever you want, but please, can I have my baby back.
What more could I handle I thought. I was about to find out....
The surgery was cancelled for the following Monday because I could now have reconstruction along with the mammogram...whoopee! A breast in exchange for a baby...I think I got gipped.
Next stop, plastic surgeon. Here I stood, naked from the waist up, on a step as the doctor sat with his face at my chest level. First lifting one, then lifting the other, then grabbing my stomach, "hmmm, let's see...." All of this with my husband standing right next to him. Uncomfortable? How could anyone say this would be considered uncomfortable??! "I don't think we have enough in your stomach to do a flap from there." He has got to be kidding! Whose stomach was he grabbing because I am here to tell you that there was plenty down there to get rid of! He decided the best bet for me would be to do a latissimus dorsi flap and promised with a smile on his face to "make them better than they had ever been before".
Our plans were to go into surgery on October 10th and have my surgeon do my mastectomy, my PS do my reconstruction, and my OB-GYN do a D&C. The D&C was because I was physically still pregnant, my body had not miscarried the pregnancy yet and even though the baby was gone I still had everything else in there. Unfortunately (at least that is what I thought at the time...not anymore) my body decided to have a miscarriage 12 hours before I was scheduled to go into surgery. What else could I live through?
Surgery was followed by a very painful recovery and the knowledge of the extent of my cancer. I was considered stage 2- I had 2 separate areas in the breast that had tumors and I had 2 out of 23 lymph nodes positive. This meant that I needed to go through 6 months of chemotherapy.....whoopee...and probably radiation too. My PS wasn't thrilled about this part but agreed to do the reconstruction anyways.
November 6th- surgery to have a port placed and then off to start chemotherapy......my life had now become a living hell where everything appeared in grayscale and the only glimpse of living color was when my little boy smiled that oh so sweet smile of his....will I be here to see that smile grow from that cute little baby smile to a handsome grown man smile? That question echoed in my head daily, hourly, sometimes every waking moment was filled with that question.....
