Case closed?

The saga is over. For now and hopefully forever. I sent an e-mail out earlier today detailing my morning. If you didn’t receive the e-mail I either A.) Don’t have a valid e-mail address for you that pops up when I type your name. Remember, I’m very, very lazy. OR B.) I didn’t bring you into my circle of drama in an effort to avoid being a Lady of Ailments.

I don’t even like my birthday acknowledged outside of the four walls of our house, so I really don’t want to call attention to myself as the next youngish mother to find a lump in her breast. I was also busy reminding myself “it” was nothing.

To recap: During my annual exam in May, my OB/GYN found a suspicious lump in my right breast. She was pretty sure it wasn’t anything to be worried about, but sent me for a diagnostic mammogram just to be sure.

I decided I would take Meredith along so that she grew up believing mammograms were a normal part of preventative health care for women. I did not however stop to think exposure to radiation would off-set any positive life lessons learned. Meredith sat alone in an inner waiting room with a box of crayons watching “Handy Manny.” I wondered if they should be checking me for a brain tumor instead.

The radiologist had trouble finding the mass even though it was the size and shape of an almond. I even took his fingers in my hands and ran them along my goop-covered breast. He felt it, but couldn’t find it, which is apparently a good thing. He was 98% confident the lump was just a cluster of breast tissue. It was the 2% that bothered me.

Fast forward to the uterine cyst explosion of two weeks ago when I asked Dr. Pease to re-examine the lump which was now very, very tender. I knew something was up when her face contorted and she said, “Leslie, the tip is hardening. As your physician I’m not worried, but as your friend, I’m freaking out. I’m sorry for using those words.”

Because Dr. Pease is my favorite medical professional of all time, I trusted her when she suggested I push for a biopsy. She sent me to a wonderful breast surgeon named, Dr. Kennedy. I tried not to let the name bother me. Dr. Kennedy examined me and decided that it was probably a good idea to do a surgical biopsy because the mass didn’t show up on ultrasound or mammogram. She also made a point of saying she wasn’t worried and wouldn’t necessarily have had the lump biopsied if I just walked in off the street. It was the recent hardening and growth spurt that bothered Dr. Kennedy.

Last Friday while I was in the shower, I noticed the lump was significantly smaller. I started to call Dr. Kennedy’s office, but thought she would think I was a whack job trying thwart surgery. I called Dr. Pease, who quickly worked me into her schedule. She agreed the lump was smaller but thought I should go ahead with the plan to remove it.

Which brings us to this morning. My mom missed an important meeting in Atlanta and made the five hour trip to take over the feeding and care of our children. Brandon rearranged his day and booked an evening flight to Phoenix. I followed my pre-surgery instructions to the letter and was afraid to even use Chapstick on the way to the hospital.

I got underdressed, into a bed, wore compression booties, and shook from the chill of the solution in my IV. I met with an admittance nurse, an aftercare nurse, the guy who would put me under, and the surgical nurse.

When Dr. Kennedy arrived I told her I was convinced the lump was shrinking. She looked skeptical and did an exam. She smiled and said, “I think you’re right. I’m not sure this biopsy is needed. Cancer doesn’t get smaller or less hard on its own. I think the chances of this being cancer are very, very slim.”

Dr. Kennedy left the ball in my court. She told me we could wait and watch or we could go forward as planned. Dr. Kennedy assured me she wouldn't offer me the option of leaving the mass as it was if she was remotely concerned about cancer. The more we talked, the more I became convinced that surgery wasn’t necessary. My fear is, I’ll look back at this six months from now after receiving bad news and I will want to wring my past-self’s neck.

For now, the plan is to watch and see what the mass does. Dr. Kennedy believes it may be entirely glandular breast tissue that happens to swell every time I fight off something or have a hormone surge, i.e. the rupturing of an ovarian cyst.

This is the kind of thing I normally like to go straight to God with. However, I had a two minute window in which to pray about it and hope to receive an answer. I had to go with my gut, which may very well be God telling me I’m okay.

So for now, all is well. I believe all will continue to be well. I felt like the girl who cried wolf this morning, but the more I think about it, I’m glad I was vigilant about following up with the lump once it started to change. I'm so glad I have a doctor who cares enough to pay attention and hook me up with doctors she believes in. I’ve learned through the experience of many friends and family who have experienced cancer that one can never be too vigilant about paying attention to your body. I just hope I’m making the right move.