Life is crazy sometimes. One day you can be shopping for baby clothes, buying the last minute things you need before your little boys arrive, including some pretty sweet fox pants that they probably don't need, and the next day you can can the second worst phone call of your life. I thought hearing the words, "Emily, you have cancer" was bad enough the first round, but hearing the words, "Emily, the cells found are the same from the original breast cancer" by far surpasses the initial diagnosis. Recurrence. Shit. Apparently God must think I'm pretty tough because now I have to fight this again.
Rewind a few days ago I've been only able to sleep on my right side, it's the most comfortable being 35 weeks with twins and I woke up with a stiff neck, thinking I slept on it wrong, the area was a little swollen. I had Chad feel around and nothing felt crazy, but me being the Li Fraumeni hypochondriac opted to contact my breast surgeon and get in. She felt around and decided the "better safe then sorry" option and ordered an ultrasound, which led to a biopsy.
Like everything the anticipation was the worst part, the Radiologist was AMAZING with numbing up the area, and soon he was getting the samples he needed, followed by inserting a clip to mark the node. The appointment wasn't very long, and I left with an ice pack and some steri-strips to keep things from bleeding too much.
That was Friday.
He said he'd call me today (Saturday) sometime with the results. The first time around I got a call at 10:30AM with the shitty news, this time while I was nervous more time was passing, so I figured it was a good thing.
I cried. Chad cried. We called our moms and rounded up the family to come over.
I don't handle uncontrolled situations very well, and knowing that they can't really do anything until the boys make their arrival was scary, because we all know that the sooner it's taken care of the sooner I can move forward with my life. I contacted my OB who moved up my c-section to this coming Wednesday. So one good thing out of this is we get to meet our little monsters a few weeks earlier then we thought.
From there I hope to have the lymph nodes removed, more than likely have a port put BACK in (damn), probably do a few rounds of chemo, rock a bald head for a while and do what I have to do, because besides having my family as my reason to fight, my sweet baby boys need their mom.
You know the crazy thing in all of this, they say dogs can sense cancer, labor and all sorts of things. The hubs and I were under the impression that maybe they were predicting I was going to to into labor....I guess they maybe knew something else because this is how they have been the last week. Every where I go, they go, they smother me, love me and won't leave me alone....I guess I know why now:
Please send lots of cancer kicking positive juju to myself because I do not intend on going anywhere anytime soon. Besides, the boys need someone to embarrass the hell out of them when they are teenagers.
I'm going to have my moments, but like I always do I will pick myself up, dust myself off and do EVERYTHING I have to do.