Unlike many doctors, my surgeon, Dr. C, isn’t condescending at all. Au contraire, she speaks to me as if I have a medical degree or a doctorate in biology, spieling scientific lingo while I breathlessly scribble words I can’t spell, let alone define, like a hapless cub reporter.
So when she used cozy terms like “itty bitty” to describe the amount of cancerous cells left behind by the last surgery, I was instantly comforted, at least by my ability to grasp what she was saying.
“We’ll just re-excise to get out that teeny-weeny bit of breast tissue that’s near the skin,” she said. “We can do it at the same time as the sentinel lymph node biopsy.”
It was only several days later that I realized we were talking about a second lumpectomy.
The first one wasn’t bad. I never even needed pain pills; ice was good enough for the fairly minimal pain. Sure, the side of my breast now has a three-inch long shallow trough, the same size as if I’d pressed the length of my index finger against a sand castle. But I have ample breast tissue – you might call it a chubby-wubby amount. So surely I could spare an itty-bitty bit more.
But being near the skin isn’t the same as being on top of the skin. The plan is for a second incision with the attendant risk for infection, a new wound to heal, etc.
It’s not the worst thing in the world by far. I’ve already met several women who had to have a mastectomy instead of a second lumpectomy because they just didn’t have enough breast tissue to keep digging it out.
But it means that Thursday’s excursion to the Alta Bates OR will include at least two surgical procedures – three if they find cancer in the sentinel lymph nodes and have to take out the axillary lymph nodes.
Bon courage on Thursday, my dearest friend! Thank you for keeping all of us posted with this blog. I am just so struck by the the emotional immediacy and clear, brilliant prose. You may want to start thinking about jumping into a whole new genre of writing. xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteWe sent this as an email to Carolyn and wanted to put it here too...On Wed, Sep 1, 2010 at 10:13 AM, wrote:
ReplyDeleteDearest Carolyn...we are with you...in your heart and soul of your being. We love you and think and care about you and Mark daily. You are family in the best of the word. We'll call you later today. We are on our way to Larry's asthma doc right now. Got your email blog...the word scary comes to mind and stays there. The way you are writing about your journey is beautiful and deeply moving. The word artist that you are...is pulling you along. Thank you for being able to talk and write about your trip...you are helping all who read it travel with you. You are NOT alone. No one ever knows how your words touch people. We are close as skin touching.
love from both of us.
Sue and Larry too
Dearest Carolyn: Up early. Read your blogg. Glad that you are able to keep us up to date. It was so beautiful talking with you last evening, even for a little bit. Keep your courage up and your humor in your front pocket ready to use. Thinking of you!
ReplyDeletelove from Sue and Larry too.
It's 2:30 and so I am sending lots of loving thoughts to you and telling the old cancer cells to cut it out! Heal well tonight!
ReplyDeleteCarmel Corn and the Big C
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a child my mom would take me to the movies on Wednesday nights because it was “dish night” and she got a free dish or platter or gravy boat etc. I remember she ended up with a lot of gravy boats and we never used them! But anyway…I’m not writing about gravy or boats. I’m writing about the Big C.
The first time I heard the word that starts with the Big C…I was 10 years old and it was at the caramel corn and popcorn store next to the neighborhood movie show we frequented. It was 1947 and the worst winter storm on record had finally let up enough in Milwaukee for sidewalks and streets to be cleared and for us to get out of the house and walk to the movies. They had popcorn for sale inside but the caramel corn store next door had a better tasting product for the same price (5 cents a bag).
We stopped in to buy a bag and the nice guy that usually was there…wasn’t. In his place was his wife who told my mother that her husband had cancer and wouldn’t be working any longer. Those were the days when the Big C was REALLY the Big C and people all thought it was contagious or at least the thought of it would surely “give” it to you.
My mother, being a person who believed in catching Cancer germs, evil eyes, ghosts, beings from another dimension…and any other scary creature her mind could conjure up…stopped going to the caramel corn store…so did a hell of a lot of other customers who weren’t even as “metaphysically inclined” as my mom…and eventually the store closed down.
The reason I’m telling this old and sad and bedraggled tale is that the Big C still makes people freak out and back away and generally not respond to blogs, emails etc…unless they are really close to the person who is fighting it.
When we asked Carolyn what she needed in the realm of support…she answered…just write on her blog….otherwise she feels like she’s writing and dropping the words into a dark hole…so this is my attempt to nudge and poke all of you who receive her blog and words of wonderment and haven’t yet responded….please…write something back…anything…a smiley face…anything!
Thank you all you have responded so far…thank you thank you…I figure that we’ve come a long way…but like racism, sexism and other “ism’s” the Big C (ism) needs eradicating too.…we have a long way to travel on this learning road we’re all on! Let’s blog together! Let’s open a caramel corn store. I hear there’s a low carb version!
Sue Doro