The Treatment...The Team

It took 7 hours but we are back from UCLA and my brain has been jam-packed with information (some of it I'm just rejecting out of...well, mind). Surgery (the "lumpectomy" just really isn't dramatic enough is it?) is scheduled for January 28th at 11 a.m. Of course, I need to get there at o'dark thirty and I can't have coffee, wine, gum, candy, heroin or scrambled eggs after midnight so by 11a.m. I'll pretty much be begging for anesthesia (and/or death; but I realize some of you might not find that amusing right now). The good doctor promises an IV of Starbucks when it's all over. He's quite funny but that better not be a joke. And speaking of the good hands man, that's him. Dr. Amer Karam. What he's holding is a spectacular drawing of what's going on inside my "right breast 10 o' clock"; yeah, it made me nervous about his manual dexterity too, but he just overslept when they taught "cancer cartoons" in med school. Still, if you ever hear the words "highly suspicious of malignancy" give the man a call. And yeah, I know, he looks young. He assures me he's done seven breast surgeries before (okay, he said "hundreds" but I heard "seven"; I'm like that). I'm trying to remember that I was 23 when I graduated from law school and I expected everyone to take me seriously. I'm taking him seriously. It's the cancer I refuse to take seriously.

Oh, and IT WAS MY GOOD FRIEND STACEY ALDSTADT WHO REFERRED ME TO UCLA and personally made sure I got to a doctor long before the medical community of Riverside could even find my chart or return a phone call. Thank you Stacey. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. No, really. Thank you.

And that brings me to other supporting players. Here's my January team:

Dad on the left, Dr. Karam, and Chris. That was our little team today figuring out my whole "treatment plan." I focused on margaritas, martinis and wine (when each was applicable); Dad asked medical questions (how is this relevant??? Geez. Dads.); and Chris took scrupulous notes while trying not to giggle every time Dr. Karam said "breast" (which the dude says a lot. A lot.)

In the end, the plan was the lumpectomy and search for the "sentinel node" on the 28th (more on that sentinel later; it's kinda fascinating). If all goes well (meaning there's no cancer in the lymph nodes) I'm home that evening (well, after a 5 to 6 hour drive home in rush hours traffic). I insist on being back at work the following Monday. I have appointments scheduled!! Then after a week or so, I go back to Dr. Karam. If he got "everything" in the first surgery, well, Dr. Karam ends our relationship and it's goodbye to him (unless one of you starts dating him; and there seems to be volunteers among you). But alas, that is not the end of my cancer journey. Then I have to go see an oncologist and convince him or her I don't really need chemo, or I just need chemo light. Dr. Good Karma, who thus far has not been wrong about a single thing (apparently he didn't miss all of his med school classes; just the drawing one) seems to be preparing me for the inevitability of chemo. So that will likely start sometime in March and go on for 4 months. Reminder: Birthday Bash in February still an option! I'm thinking Friday the 13th! Totally appropriate. After that will be radiation. Which should be delightful in Riverside in you know, July or August! Stay out of the sun? Are you kidding me??

So basically, not much changed today. Except we have actual dates and a sort of schedule. Oh, and they had me do 1) a chest x-ray; 2) blood tests (4 vials); 3) a urinanalyis and 4) an EKG in preparation for surgery. They managed to accomplish all of that in about an hour. Astounding. And I didn't have to drive all over the place and carry my records myself. I could do the whole testing journey in super-cute 4" strappy silver sandals walking only as far as the elevator. Oh, and there was one "it could be worse" moment when Dr. Good Karma told me one of the tests was a pregnancy test. I may have threatened his life if he came back to me with "you're pregnant." (Security was called prematurely in my opinion!!) This whole cancer thing may be over in 8 months. Pregnancy? The child never goes away, right? I'm 45. My dad came to my appointment today. (Thanks, Dad. ;-)

Things I've learned

You know how when you buy a white car you suddenly notice how many people have white cars? Breast cancer is the same way. Geez, does everybody have breast cancer or know someone who does? Yes. The answer is yes.

And apparently there's a lot a person needs to know to deal with this all (sadly, get the #@%& out of town for treatment was one of the things I learned--note the lag time between "feel a lump" and "Yep, that's cancer"; 25 days.)

So here's my thoughts with this blog... 1) it's my therapy. Yes, it's incredibly self-absorbed but hey it's better than bombarding people with emails about my "right breast 10 o'clock." And it's a better way to update those who might actually care (occasionally, no one is going to care daily!) and aren't squeamish; 2) if anyone else has been through the experience and is willing to share advice, stories, encouragement this is as good a place as any, I imagine (the waiting room at UCLA Medical Center seems a little tense!) so please pass this along to anyone who might be willing to share/ add comments and keep me informed; 3) good lord there is a lot of misinformation out there on mammograms, self-exams and breast cancer in general. If folks only knew the difference between catching it early and not (it's the difference between lumpectomy and masectomy and "chemo-lite" and well, not so light; and that's just for starters!), I assume that those of you who have said to me "I guess I should schedule that mammogram I've been putting off" (you know who you are) might actually do it. So I'll share what I learn and what women should know about this. I caught mine by self-exam (although, truly, Chris deserves and wants some of the credit for the ahem, "exam"). Show the girls some love, ladies.

I'm super early in this whole process. And so far I've only bought two books (and read half of each; Love "Cancer Vixen" by Marisa Acocella Marchetto...who I think is Italian...) and talked to 2 surgeons, 4 radiologoists, a hospital administrator, several cancer survivors, and a whole host of "I had friend who..." folks. I'll sift through and share the good stuff. You do the same.

The MRI results

And this brings the blog up to date with the group emails...

Finally, I have some better news. The MRI was yesterday (January 13) and the cancer is only in the one spot. Woo hoo! This means "only" a lumpectomy which will likely be at the end of the month. Then apparently I get a few weeks to recover before chemo starts. So expect a "post-op pre-chemo" birthday bash in mid-February! (apparently the only party I'll be attending in 2009! So I figure I get to drink a year's worth of wine, right?). I go in on Thursday with Chris and my dad to get the whlole treatment plan and options laid out. When I told him my dad and Chris were both coming with me, The doctor said "I'll be sure to have my Wheaties in the morning." He hasn't even met my dad! Did I mention my doctor met me at check-in, walked me over to the MRI (which was at 11:30) and then called me personally by 4pm to tell me the results? This is health care in the big city! Wow.

And in other good news, Chris is going to help me set up a blog mostly to amuse myself and be all self-absorbed about what's going on, but also so I don't have to bombard you with whiney emails you may not want. You can just check the blog for updates when you want to (or not, and I'll never know!), plus you can likely vote on which wig looks best (I'm thinking this is my chance to experience life as a non-blonde; will I be smarter??), what wine pairs with chemo (Facebook friends seem to be voting white), and who we should be setting up with my totally adorable and apparently single doctor (the man knows his way around breasts! and er, in them too).

Okay, so likely the only other "update" email you will get will be with the blog address. And maybe a party invite! Thanks for all your humorous responses. And yes, Chris and I are totally going to Maui next December (for that holiday formerly known as Christmas and henceforth to be called Jimmy Buffett's birthday).