Exit Stage Left

This week has been a hard one. On top of my own personal stuff, my boss is going through some very serious and emotionally challenging medical issues with his parents and one of my co-workers, and closest friends, had her last day in the office a week ago yesterday. I have been covering all of her work (which is a lot since we have a show in-town next week) and trying to help my boss as much as possible with his work, plus trying to get all my own stuff done. I'm glad I quit smoking, I haven't even had time to walk to the bathroom, let alone go outside to suck one down.

I was so tired last night that by 9:30 I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, so I went to bed. I woke up this morning about 8:30 to a gloomy rainy day (my favorite!), had some breakfast, watched some TV decided not to go to work as I'd originally planned and then decided to go back to sleep. I was dozing while watching movies and had a couple strange dreams about two different people who I haven't talked to in awhile. I woke up and finally decided to get in the shower and when I got out I had a voicemail from one of them, and an e-mail from the other. Is this evidence that I have some sort of weird "gift" for predicting the future? No, you're right, I don't... I can just compel people to do things through my dreams.

I've never really been one to take pictures. I don't particularly enjoy having my picture taken and I've never been good at carrying a camera or simply remembering to use it when I do. Because of this deficiency I've never owned a camera of my own, choosing mostly to use disposable cameras and only when absolutely necessary. Anyhow, a couple years ago my mom got a new digital camera and bequeathed unto me her old dinosaur of a camera that, at this point, is probably close to ten years old. I rarely use it, but I do like that I'm able to document certain things.

If I haven't mentioned it (is that possible?!), the bruising and swelling of my breast due to the surgery is truly unbelievable, beyond anything I could've imagined. I have been using the dinosaur camera to take pictures (a feat unto itself) every day or two of the changes in my breast, just for the sake of documentation. I thought it was bad on Friday, I thought it was bad on Saturday, but nothing could've prepared me for what I would find tonight when I changed into my PJ's. It looks like a mini van drove over me. Seriously. I guess that explains why the pain was the worst yet today, too. I wish these weren't pictures of a rather sensitive part of the human anatomy, otherwise I would post them here, because they are worth showing people. Fear not, young ones, even though I've lost all sense of modesty through this process I know that it might make other people uncomfortable, so I won't do it--at least not tonight.

I went back to see my surgeon today who told me that the lump I'm feeling is probably just normal breast tissue that had been disturbed because she had to dig (for lack of a better word) pretty far and pretty deeply into my breast and the tissue that's pushed aside is just clumping together right there. She told me that she looked all on the inside of my breast and didn't see any unhealthy breast tissue and everything looked good, but that we'll keep our eyes on it in my next two appointments (I have to go back to see her at least two more times).

I don't necessarily "believe" her, I have felt that lump hundreds of time in the last three months and I know where it is and what it feels like, but I do trust her and that's why we go to doctors, right? Because we don't know what's best and we need their help?

On a side note, she also said that my bruising is worse than she expected it to be, but still normal. I now have bruises of every shape and color you can imagine so much so that one of my friends has begun to call me "Rainbow Brite." And, rather than the pain and swelling getting better, it seems to be worsening day by day... *sigh* When will this be over?

The pathology results came in today and the lump that my surgeon removed was a "benign lipoma" which is just extra fatty breast tissue that sometimes grows in irregular paterns.

When I called the office this morning to talk to someone about the lump that wasn't removed they asked me to come in, so I'm going in to see her again tomorrow morning at 10:30. The drama never ends...

A little over a year ago a good friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer--two weeks before she turned 28. She was young, it was nothing anyone expected,-- least of all her-- but a year later she has beat the cancer and is doing extremely well.

I was never really one to do breast self-exams, but since her diagnosis I try to be diligent about it. In mid-December as I was sort of passively doing my exam (as usual) I found a lump. I didn't think much of it at first, but as the days wore on I began to check it excessively, constantly wondering if it was still there. All the websites I read said to wait until after my next period to see if it was just caused by hormones. And, so I did. I waited until January and that lump was still there.

While this experience has most certainly weighed on me heavily throughout the past couple of months, I didn't tell anyone about it until very recently for fear that I was overreacting. I did, however, blog about it, carefully saving all my thoughts on the subject. I had surgery on Friday to remove the lump and have pasted a selection of posts on the subject below.

January 17, 2007
About a month ago I found a lump in my left breast. It was a routine breast self-exam. At first I didn't think much of it, thinking it was just normal breast tissue. But, as the days wore on the lump seemed to be jumping out from my skin and to my fingers; it became easier and easier for me to find it and it seemed to be more and more prominent; not bigger, just less discrete. I did some reading online about breast lumps and learned a lot. Most of what I read said to wait until after your next period when hormones are at their lowest level and see if there are changes in the lumps size, texture, etc. So, this past week after my period ended and the lump was still there I decided it was time to go to the doctor. I called and within five minutes had an appointment for the next afternoon.

As you might imagine I've been feeling quite anxious about this whole scenario, especially considering that a close friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer just a little over a year ago, two weeks before her 28th birthday. When I got to the doctor's office I was so nervous I was shaking, I could barely sign my name on the check-in sheet and I was a sweating more-so than usual. When I finally got into the exam room my blood pressure was sky-high and I could feel my heart beating through my chest. More than being nervous about what they might find, I was nervous that she would tell me I was overreacting, or worse-yet that I had actually imagined the lump, that it wasn't there at all.

By the time my doctor came into the room I'd managed to settle myself down slightly. She started by checking my right breast first so that she could get a gauge for what's normal in regards to my breasts. When she got to my left breast she began wrinkling her nose and squinting her eyes. I asked her if she felt it and she said yes, she felt something slightly. She thought that by how it felt it might be a cyst, so decided to try to aspirate some fluid. Let me tell you now, needles never feel good, but a needle digging around in your breast is particularly uncomfortable, scratch that, it hurt like hell. She couldn't get any fluid to come out, so that means it's probably not a cyst. As my doctor explained to me, if I feel something and she felt something that means we do more to see if we can figure out what it is. So that means I go in for a mammogram and an ultrasound to try to diagnose the lump. She told me to wait a couple weeks to make an appointment because since she stuck a needle into the skin there is probably bleeding which will show up during these tests and may cause undue alarm.

So now, here I am: 28 years old facing tests normally reserved for 50 year old women. I'm not nervous about the tests themselves, but I'm terrified beyond belief at what they might find.

January 20, 2007
We had two shows open this week, which normally puts me into a foul mood, because I hate having to be at work late (early?) more than once a couple times a month, let alone within three days. But, after spending a day in my chair watching bad cable TV I understand why this week didn't get to me nearly as much as two opening weeks normally do: it provided a nice diversion from the reality. I realize that this lump is probably nothing to worry about, that everything's probably going to be okay, but I've spent the better part of today mostly sitting around and worrying about it. I wish the doctor hadn't done the aspiration and I could go get the other tests done this week, quickly, so I could know. Likely the worst part of this process is not knowing, worrying and then feeling stupid when it all comes to pass. Afterall, 8 in 10 lumps are non-cancerous, so why I am I so nervous about the whole thing? What makes me think this is something more than that?

February 8, 2007
I finally got in for the mammogram and ultrasound today. I learned that the shortened version, "mammo," is favored among those in "the know" but I have little interest in using the term myself, it sort of creeps me out, to be honest. Anyhow... from the minute I walked in the door of the Breast Care Center at Lutheran I felt out of place and uncomfortable. I have sort of outgrown the phase of my life where I'm always the youngest one in the room, but I managed to revert. Still, I couldn't help but thinking that everyone in the waiting room was wondering why the hell I was there and even though I felt validated because my doctor told me to go, I still couldn't help wondering myself what the hell I was doing there.

I felt patronized by all the technicians from the moment I walked in. From the receptionists who were referring to me as "the young one" when they thought I was out of earshot, to the nurse who talked to me like I was 8, rather than 28 to the ultrasound technician who told me that they "don't do mammograms on girls as young as me." I had to bite my tongue, quite literally, to keep from saying, "you're fucking going to do the mammogram because my doctor fucking order it!" In the end, they just wanted to start with the ultrasound and go from there.

After the ultrasound the tech walked into what I imagined was a dark office with a geeky radiologist sitting behind a particle board desk reading tests day in and day out while drinking an endless cup of coffee, black of course. I imagined him peering over the rim of his too-big-for-his-face glasses and asking "is this the young one?" Quite predictably, when the tech came back into the room she said, "they don't see anything worrisome, but we will go ahead and do the mammo." Yeah, that's right, bitch, you will.

I was then led into another, smaller, room for the mammogram. The tech arranged my boobs on the machine and took pictures from a variety of different angles on my right breast. Then she placed a little metal marker on the spot where the lump is in the left breast and took more pictures. When she was done she left and came back a few minutes later and said with a chuckle, "everything looks fine, nothing to be concerned about we'll see you again in about 15 years." I guess I didn't want to hear that there was something to worry about, but I felt like they were flip about everything, like they weren't taking me seriously, like they didn't get that I was freaked out beyond belief--and still am to some extent. They deal with this shit every single fucking day and if I'm lucky that will be the only time I ever have to deal with it--is it too much to ask for a little compassion?

March 6, 2007
I saw the surgeon today.

Maybe I'm being hyper-sensitive about this whole situation, but again, I didn't really care for most of the people in the office. However, I did like the doctor. A woman, for which I was truly grateful. I pretty much expected to be escorted into an exam room, strip down and have her feel me up. I used to be pretty modest, hell I'm a total prude, but at this point so many people have felt me up I'd pretty much let anyone do it. Anyhow, after a little Q&A she left and asked me to get into a "gown" which was really like a vest, but that's neither here nor there. And that brings up another point, why do the doctors always leave when you change? They're going to see everything anyway, right?! Weird. Anyhow...when she came back in she asked me to lie down. I told her that I had a really hard time feeling the lump when I was lying down. She said that was okay, that she'd start this way and that if I needed to sit up, I could. She started with my "healthy" and "normal" right breast and then moved to the left. I was somewhat surprised that she found the lump right away...since even I struggle to find it and my own doctor could barely find it when I was lying down. anyhow...she said she definitely wanted to biopsy it and that I had two choices: one, we could do a core needle biopsy (where they poke you with a giant fucking needle and pull out tissue) or two, we could do an excisional biopsy where they do surgery to remove the lump entirely for testing. She said that a core needle biopsy is easy and can be done in the office, but that due to the nature of my lump that if the tests came out normal she'd be worried that she didn't hit the lump with the needle and would therefore order the excisional anyway. So, in order to prevent having to go through two separate tests we agreed to just do the excisional biopsy. I didn't schedule it yet, because I wanted to check on my work schedule, so I'll call tomorrow to make the appointment... more to come.

March 7, 2007
I scheduled the surgery for my biopsy today for next Friday morning at 10:30 am. By 8:45 am I'll find myself at Lutheran Surgical Center. I'm very nervous about the whole thing. I've never had surgery before, so it's a little daunting, but I'm also relieved that in less than two weeks I should finally, finally know what the hell this is. Good or bad, I just want to know and now I finally will.

March 17, 2007
Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Yesterday I had surgery to remove the lump. The procedure is called an excisional biopsy and is fairly simple. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but it wasn't terrible either. I didn't have any pain at all until this morning and even that is bearable. It looks pretty bad though, the bruising is unlike anything I've ever really seen before, I'm pretty swollen and the incision is much bigger than I thought it would be. The good thing is that she used dermabond (like skin super glue) to close the wound, so it's completely closed and I don't have to have a dressing on it and can shower normally. I did take a picture, but since it's of my breast I'm not going to post it publicly--that might get me kicked off of "American Idol"--but if you want to see it e-mail me and I'll send it to you. I've pretty much lost all sense of modesty in this whole ordeal.

The surgery itself lasted only about half an hour. Before I'd even gotten situated on the operating table the anesthesiologist had put the drugs in my IV that would sedate me slightly, so that I was awake, but didn't really care what was going on. The first few minutes I was on what I'd imagine to be like an acid trip. I felt like I was in "Alice in Wonderland" when I "woke up" I saw the blue drape and remembered where I was. I was then talking to the doctors, the nurses, and everyone else in the room. The anesthesiologist asked me what shows were coming up and even though sedated and "under the knife" at that very moment I told him he should bring his mother-in-law to see "Edward Scissorhands"--some of us never stop working. Ironic show choice, I thought, too.

There were a couple points where I felt a slight amount of pain, but she just gave me another shot to numb me up some more and I was good. The weirdest thing is that I bled quite a bit and could feel the blood running down my side and onto my back, rather unsettling. I was only in recovery for like 20 minutes before I was completely lucid, sitting up and eating yogurt. I was pretty much walking out the door about an hour after I'd gotten out of surgery. I spent the afternoon dozing on the couch being paranoid that one of the cats was going to jump on me and cause excruciating pain, even though I haven't had any pain until today. At about 4:30 I drove myself down to Jen's going-away party before coming home and tucking myself in for the night until about 8:30.

My surgeon told me while still on the table that she thought the lump was a fibroid, but I should have the final results on Monday. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

I'd also like to publicly thank Leslie for taking me to the hospital, staying with me all day yesterday and stocking me up with a ton of peanut butter treats and Mary for bringing me a movie, a Shamrock Shake and yet more peanut butter goodies today. Both of them hardly flinched when I actually flashed them my bruised and swollen boob--that's the mark of a true friend. Or maybe it's not as bad as I think it is.

Saturday, March 18, 2007--Part 2

Last night before I went to bed, I was feeling the area where the lump was supposed to be removed. I'm not sure what I thought I'd feel; maybe I was testing to see if it was bruised, or I wanted to see what it felt like without the lump, but when I went to feel it I realized that the lump was still there. I have no doubt that my surgeon did remove a lump, but it wasn't the one I thought it was. At first I was angry, but that quickly turned to being completely distraught. I cried myself to sleep last night, woke up and cried more, fell back to sleep and thus the cycle has continued most of the day. I feel deformed and gross, I'm scared that I'm not going to have the peace of mind I thought this would bring and I'm scared that I'll have to go through this again because the lump I felt wasn't removed. I plan on being on the phone with the surgeon first thing Monday morning. I'll let you all know what happens.

Today has maybe been my hardest day yet in my quitting smoking adventure, a true test. I spent most of the day cleaning my house, and I mean CLEANING. My normal cleaning ritual is that I clean one room, or finish one task and as a reward to myself I would smoke. I finish vacuuming, and then I smoke. I clean the bathroom and then I smoke. I mop the floors and then I smoke. You get the gist of it. Well, the patch helps a lot, but there are some cravings that you just have to work through on will power alone. Today I just kept praying that my neighbor would come home so I could bum just one.... thankfully she's still not home and I haven't gone begging, and therefore I haven't slipped up, I'm at six days and counting. Plus, I made it through an opening night party last night---that's gotta count for something.

Last week when I vowed to quit I made a list of the reasons why I should do so. I wrote them in my journal and then pulled out the pages so I could carry them around with me and remind myself whenever an urge hit me. Here's the top ten. Feel free to help me add to them, I'm going to need the encouragement.

1.) The Smell---UGH! I needn't explain it. My car smells, my hair smells, my breath smells... I smell. It's gross.

2.) Phlegm--the daily phlegm has truly gotten out of control. It's gross to hack up chunks of crap every morning--and to actually look forward to it so I feel better.

3.) Air--I've almost begun to wheeze because I can't breathe anymore. I look forward to the day I can walk up the stairs without being winded. Of course, the extra 30 pounds I'm carrying probably isn't helping, but I'll fix one vice at a time.

4.) Embarrassment--it's the year 2007, who the fuck smokes in the year 2007?!?! It's stupid and an insult to my intelligence.

5.) Andrew, Emily, Abby & Rebekah--they could be a reason each by themselves, but I'll lump them together. Set a good example, be a better aunt.

6.) Traveling--I can't wait until I can get on a flight without worrying about how my first cigarette will be lit when I land. I might actually be able to get on a flight to Australia or South Africa or China!

7.) New York!--Who are you kidding? You can't afford to live in New York as a smoker---you have to quit before you can even imagine you'd be able to live there.

8.) Money--smoking's expensive, yo! Quit now and buy a new car, or new shoes or finally get that Burberry handbag!

9.) Be stubborn--you're stubborn about everything else--why not be stubborn about this?!

10.) Be something people can be proud of. Be responsible.

I had my last cigarette on Monday at 10:19 PM. Since then I have chewed so much gum that I'm beginning to worry not about my teeth turning yellow, but about them falling out of my head all-together. On Tuesday night I bought every flavor of sugar-free gum I could find. I wound up with Orbit, because they have lots of flavors; I even bought the "citrus mint" flavor, even though I don't even like it. Despite the fact that I'm pretty certain I'm coming down with lockjaw I will keep chewing because the ramifications of smoking are so much worse! I gotta say, the gum makes it easier, but this is still f'ing HARD!

Yes, yes, I'm still here. Much upon which to blog, little time upon which to reflect and therefore little time to write. Fear not, young ones, I will hopefully return to my regularly scheduled blog time soon.

In the meantime here are the bullet points in the life of Molly:

• One of my co-workers--and a super-good friend--gave her notice. She's been there for almost 12 years and as we've been saying, "we have some high heels to fill."
• I have been trying to date. I say "trying" because I'm really bad at it and I don't do it very often. What do you do when you "go on a date?!?!" Anyone have any ideas?
• I am trying to quit smoking. Yes, yes, I've tried before and failed, but for some reason I think it's going to work this time. I made a list of my top ten reasons to quit and they worked all day. Tonight I went to Target and bought six different flavors of gum ( in addition to the two I carry at all times) and broke down and bought patches too. The nicotine withdrawl is causing me to feel tingly and lack concentration, which I simply don't have time for; I'm hoping maybe these patches will help ease that.
  

Full updates on the above points and more to come soon. Keep checking back.

p.s. The shar pei picture is causing more hits than ever--I'm averaging like 27 hits a day from that thing. Crazy.