Garden of Dandelions

Sooo...an impending double mastectomy doesn't seem so scary after I spent a week not knowing whether or not the cancer had spread to my brain (it hasn't!!).

But between a suspicious spot on my temporal bone lighting up on my scan, to when I got the results of my head/brain MRI (ohmygosh YES, I had to go in that tube of terror for a THIRD time!), I was in waiting limbo Hades. A special place reserved for those of us wondering which direction we'll head in a "Choose Your Own Adventure: Medical Edition". Except we're not the ones getting to choose.

When I first heard, "biopsy recommended" in March, God flipped my switch to preparation mode. Yes, the internet can freak you the heck out, but it has its helpful moments. I narrowed down the possible diagnoses I could be given if my results weren't benign. So when I actually got the call, I was 90% ready to hear it, 10% freaked out.

For my second biopsy, I knew it would either be "benign and continue on with our plan" or "malignant and double mastectomy". When it was the latter, I calmly said, "Ok, thanks for calling."

Next up, if my CT/bone scan showed the cancer had spread to an organ or nearby bone, we'd postpone surgery and start chemo. So I was mentally getting myself ready for that just in case. What I wasn't prepared for, was my oncologist's call 20 minutes after I left my bone scan, saying a suspicious spot lit up in my head that didn't make sense and they needed more detailed images, including brain images.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. 

At my last appointment with my breast surgeon, she'd said, "You haven't really freaked out this entire time. And I've kind of been waiting for you to."

Well, that phone call from my oncologist did it. That's what tipped me over into semi-panic mode.
Because for the first time since this whole process began, I thought, "This could end badly." And I had to stop to catch my breath that evening on my walk, when the thought of not being here to see the kids as their adult selves hit me like a ton of bricks. Or not being here to make fun of David when his goatee goes completely silver. It's about 1/4 of the way there now, I like to point out to him frequently.

I toodled on over to the main KU Med campus this week for my MRI. The thought process amongst those in charge of the layout of that hospital had to have gone a little something like this:

"First, let's challenge all of our patients and see if they can find a parking space. Get them really frazzled. Next, let's take a super scary test...say, on their brain, and put that MRI machine all the way in the farthest corner of the basement. We'll make the basement extra creepy looking too. So it doesn't even really look like they're in a hospital anymore. More like they just stepped onto the set of Paranormal Investigations. Make sure there are absolutely no windows down there, lest they get a glimpse of the outside world to try and draw hope from the sun. Oh, and don't forget to charge them when they actually find their car again and exit the garage. They'll be so relieved to be getting out of there...they'll pay anything."

For my brain MRI, I only had to go halfway in the tube. This brought me joy. But then they put a little cage over my face, so I felt like Hannibal Lector ready to silence some lambs up in there.

My results show it has not spread to my brain. However, the spot on my skull does require a biopsy. I can think of 1,000,001 things I'd rather have done than that.

My apologies to those of you I may had conversations with this past week. I have a limited recollection of them. My mind was elsewhere. I hope I said something witty. Or at least something coherent.

Looks like I'll be adding a few more links to my surgery countdown chain. It was scheduled for next Friday, but has been put on hold while they figure out what is wrong with my head. David has been trying to figure this out for years, so it will be nice to have some answers.

I thought about having him post an update when I finally do have my surgery but here's how his updates usually go:

David: "Oh, hey, the So-and-Sos had their baby."

Me: "Awww...what'd they have?"

David: "A baby."

Me: "Boy or girl?"

David: "Yep."

Me: "Name? Weight?"

David: "I've told you all I know."

So I'm pretty sure his super helpful and informative post would be something along the lines of, "Kristen had her surgery."

For now, I'll stick to the updates.

And he can stick to counting his silver goatee hairs.