Monday. I scheduled a tumor biopsy at the Methodist West Breast Center. I felt calm and relaxed. I usually am for this kind of thing. It is just data. And being emotional doesn’t help. My seventeen-year-old daughter, Emily, went with me. She stayed in the waiting room with a book.
The biopsy is guided by an ultrasound. The tech set up the ultrasound machine zeroing in on the area of the mass. The ultrasound has the ability to see blood vessels (fascinating! I think technology is really cool sometimes) so that the doctor can avoid them if possible.
I don’t like anesthetic of any type. Every time I have some sort of pain killer, I have a reaction that I don’t like. So, I requested to forgo the topical analgesic that they normally give to numb the area. The doctor wasn’t too excited about it. However, I explained that I have a high tolerance for pain, I have played sports all of my life, and I know the pain only lasts for a few seconds. AND, we could always add the pain killer if necessary. So, she agreed to try.
The needle is a hollow tube that has a spring like action, propelling a tube into the mass and extracting a sample. It happens very quickly. A few pops with a needle into the mass and two lymph nodes. I didn’t feel more than a sharp prick as I watched it on the ultrasound screen. Interesting. The procedure didn’t take long.
The biopsy resulted in a few red marks on my skin that looked like I had popped a large whitehead. The nurse bandaged them with some sort of tape, so they were relatively sealed from the environment.
The nurse went through the post-procedure protocol with me: don’t get the bandage wet for 3 days, the strips should fall off, etc. As I was getting ready to leave, the nurse told me to rest for the next few days as part of the protocol. I told her that my kids and I were going camping. Needless to say, she was not happy. She didn’t want me to go camping. I felt irritated and a bit incensed. I had planned this with my kids. I wanted the down time with them. Why should a biopsy stop me from doing what I wanted? I really hate it when someone tries to tell me what I can and cannot do!
Feeling a bit frustrated, I emphatically told her that a possible cancer diagnosis was not going to stop me from living! Or camping for that matter! [Post note: Little did I realize that this attitude is one of the most important things I could have had in my arsenal. Deciding that I wasn’t going to stop living was the best tool that I could have carried on this journey.]
She instructed me not to lift anything heavy and that she would call me with the results.
Life is meant to be lived fully; learning from (not fearing) the challenges that befall us and loving the joyful moments of connection.
