And So It Begins

On August 26th, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Since then, I keep trying to say it out loud - "I have breast cancer" - so that I can start to believe it, but each time it sounds like something that couldn't possibly be true.

About a month ago, I noticed some lumps in my left breast. I thought that my milk ducts were plugged, and I started trying the recommended home remedies - hot compresses, massage, extra nursing and pumping, lecithin supplements, hot showers. Nothing made a difference and I waited in dread for mastitis to set in. But no signs of infection appeared. 

After almost two weeks, at the urging of Seth and my doula Cheryl, I consulted an OB. Dr. Yashari examined my breast and said that the lumps were fibroadenomas, benign breast tumors that are common in young women. He said they were nothing to worry about and would go away after I stopped breastfeeding. He also said that normally with fibroadenomas, they would just monitor them every few months, but just to be safe, because of my mother's breast cancer, he ordered a follow-up ultrasound.

The following Tuesday, August 19, I went to UCLA for my ultrasound. Buoyed by my innocuous fibroadenoma diagnosis, I expected to waltz in and waltz out. However, the ultrasound tech's expression as she scanned my breast gave me my first pang of doubt - though she didn't say a word (and in fact said she wasn't allowed to tell me anything about the ultrasound when I asked), I read "cancer" in her face. She left to consult with the radiologist, then came back and told me the radiologist had ordered a mammogram. After a series of very painful mammograms and then some more ultrasounds, I finally met the radiologist. She said that the masses were not cystic and also not fibroadenomas (because the edges were angular rather than smooth), and that she was ordering an ultrasound-guided needle core biopsy for further analysis. She never actually said the word, but her face also said "cancer".

Two days later, another radiologist biopsied my breast and lymph nodes. Though bruised and sore and unable to nurse Ike on my left side, I felt much better after the biopsy. It wasn't logical - obviously, simply having the biopsy was not going to change my outcome - but maybe it was the reassuring statistics that they gave me, like 70% of breast biopsies coming back benign, that gave my spirits a boost.

But that brings us to August 26th, when Dr. Yashari called me and said that the tumors were malignant and invasive. 

I have breast cancer.