In Which I Discuss Breast MRIs and Saving Nipples

Gentle readers, for this entry, I'm going to back track a little and discuss the breast MRI. You, like I, may be wondering "but, what makes this so different from a regular MRI?" Never fear, for I will explain. First, photos. The stark, plain one is a photo of what I referred to as the rig, the second is an example of how I (and other patients) are positioned for the scan. In my case, my arms were more extended, more like Supergirl or something, and I had an IV in my right hand. (And a 'panic button' bulb in my left.) 

The patient is naked from the waist up and, see those rectangular holes? That's where the breasts go. And then something was moved inwards to rest right next to them - unsure if it was to help with placement or to help direct the 'waves,' but it was fucking weird. I walked into the room in my gown & scrub pants and started giggling. Pretty sure the technicians thought I was crazy, but they ended up agreeing that yeah it is "unusual" looking. The people at Valley Radiology's breast center did their best to make it, um, comfortable, but my hands were going pins & needles by the end. (It was roughly 25 minutes long.) This procedure sucked ass. But, it did conclusively show that there was only cancer in my left breast. Side note: had I opted for a lumpectomy, because of my genetic mutation, I would have had to do this as well as the diagnostic mammogram & ultrasound every 6 months. 

Now, on to the discussion of nipples. Namely, mine. During the to keep or not to keep my breasts, I brought up the possibility of keeping some of the outer parts. Keep in mind, Jason & I had found out the evening before and had spent a little time researching how this works. Dr. O'Neill (my surgeon) said there were different types of mastectomies - including skin sparing and nipple sparing. She thought I should speak to a plastic surgeon, so I went. You see, and this may be TMI for some people, I wanted to keep as much of the original me as possible. Particularly my nipples, for reasons of sexy times. Mentioning this to one of my good friends, Amarise, resulted in this exchange:

Amarise: "Nipple conservation sounds like something people would pass out pamphlets about."

Me: "YES! HAHA! 'Save the nipples!  

Amarise: “Every year more and more nipples are disappearing. How will you stop it?”

Me: "Won't you please help?"

sad music in the background

Amarise: Cue Sara McLaughlin

So you can see I tried to keep a sense of humor about all this. The plastic surgeon advised that due to the size & shape of my breasts, nipple sparing surgery would not be a good plan. When rebuilt, my nipples would end up pointing down, which...ew. I did not want that. I later found online something about procedure called free nipple grafting. Where, during the mastectomy surgery, the nipple and part of the areola are removed & grafted to another part of the body. I was excited about this option and my plastic surgeon was game to try it, so that's what we did during the mastectomy. 

Getting the surgery scheduled was a pain in the ass. Two surgeons were involved which meant getting both schedules to align. And it would have been easier if the plastic surgeon's assistant hadn't sat on a VM I left for an entire week. There was a lot of back & forth prior to this, but then yeah. She sat on it for a week, then informed me my surgery was on 5/15 and I said "no," asking for it to be rescheduled because Phoenix Comic Fest (or whatever they call themselves currently) was the following week.

Now look, I know many of you reading probably think I'm crazy. That's fine. But the fact is, it was a small tumor, caught very early, I was expected at con as a panelist, and dammit, I was going to have some fun before this all got super serious. After a little more back & forth, they were able to acquiesce to my request and scheduled me for surgery on 5/30. Everything leading up to a surgery date felt like a runaway train, despite medical professionals saying things like "you're in control" and "whatever you want." I saw making them schedule when I wanted as a way to take back control - besides, I hate it when doctors schedule appointments & then tell you when to show up instead of asking. So, I got to meet comic writers I love, be Black Widow, and Osgood.

Me with some Bombshell Batwoman
cosplayers

Comics writer James Tynion IV

           

  

Marguerite Bennett, comics
writer, cat lover, Hufflepuff

                                  

So, I Have Cancer

Back in March, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Multiple people suggested I keep a blog/write a book/whatever so rather than start a new one, I'm gonna utilize this one! Because, y'know, it's already here. I'll begin at the beginning...

Earlier this year, my husband found..something in my left breast. We weren't sure we were really feeling anything, but I still had an order from my old OB/GYN, I contacted the new one to give a heads up. They said "oh hey, if you have a thing, you need a different kind of test; where are you going, we'll send new orders."

March 13: Mammogram & ultrasound. They confirmed we were right, then a radiologist came in & told me it looked like cancer, I needed a biopsy, but it was too late in the day to get one that day. I spoke to their scheduler who said they could get me in at 12:45 the next day, but she'd call me in the morning once they got an order. Those words - that it looked abnormal, that 95% of things that look like it are cancer were like someone sucked the air out of the room and punched me in the stomach at the same time. I got quiet & I cried. I'd gone to the appointment alone, thinking the best, that it would turn out to be nothing.

(That night, we went to a VIP pre-screening of Tomb Raider in IMAX and IT WAS AWESOME. Not related, but hey, it was a lot of fun.)

March 14 Biopsy day! We showed up to the same place. I was taken back, shown into a room and settled on a table. They had me roll to the right and placed a foam cushiony thing under my left hip. I raised my left arm, my right arm was bent at the elbow, palm resting on my torso, head was propped just so and they said "oh that's perfect, don't move!" So...I didn't. For 25 minutes give or take. The radiologist who oversaw the procedure said that if it was cancer, I'd join a club I never wanted to be part of...and also told me it's extremely common for husbands/partners to find the lumps, it's also how she found hers. By the end of the procedure I was giggly because I kept thinking about how I was laying and also this:

Pose not exact but you get the idea.

So, I explained this & it got a laugh out of all present. I then was moved to a room to do another mammogram to ensure the small marker they placed was in the right spot. On that wall - a Pre-Raphaelite print that I love that also underscored the whole paint me thing in my head. They kept assuring me they'd call the following day with results for that reason and that I wasn't allowed to shower for 24 hours, I called off work the following day. They never called.

March 16, a Friday. I went to work. I spent all day wondering, waiting. Then, at  just after 4 something in the afternoon, my cell rang. Someone said they had a call from a doctor. I accepted & soon I heard a wavery, very old voice (much like Diane Rehm on NPR) come on the line and politely explain that my results were back but it was not good news. She told me I had cancer. Then asked if I was with family, when I replied I was at work she got a bit stammery, realizing the awkwardness of my situation. We hung up. I called Jason & told him. Then went to the bathroom to cry & texted my supervisor who was at her desk. We talked & she offered support and the chance to go home early.

 By the end of the weekend, I'd told my family & many friends who I'm close to and volunteer with. The following week, I met with a breast surgeon, had a genetic test, and a breast MRI.

2 weeks later, I had a lumpectomy scheduled for 4/5 and my surgeon called on 4/3 at 7pm from her car to tell me I had a genetic mutation (CHEK2) and we needed to discuss it in the office. Next morning, we went in & after a lot of weighing of odds and scientific evidence, I opted for a bilateral mastectomy. This was a devastating thought for me at the time. I did not want to give up my breasts. I'd spent many years not really liking or resenting their size and had only recently gotten comfortable and now they were going?!? So, I was given info to consult a plastic surgeon on options.

This is enough for now. It's how it started. It felt like a runaway train at first and that feeling continued for awhile.