I Continue Through the Steps
An 8 a.m. appointment for a needle biopsy of the right breast. Not the best way to start a day! I’m not a morning person either, so definitely not the best way to start a day. (If you want to know what steps brought me to the biopsy, you can read about those here and here.)
At least with an early appointment, not wearing deodorant, lotion, or perfume isn’t as big a deal! I drank my coffee and brushed my teeth before heading out. Definitely a bundle of nerves, I decided to listen to an audiobook on the way to totally take my mind off it. I knew music wouldn’t cut it today.
However, I was fully planning to use music to get through the procedure, especially since it’s so damn quiet in that place. Somber enough! They should really encourage people to bring music.
So, I listened to a novel on the way. When I parked I decided to give myself a few minutes with some pump you up music.
“Next Level” by A$ton Wyld is my current go-to for that vibe, and she totally did the trick! I walked in with pep and vitality, ready for whatever the day may hold. I had decided to go it alone since that’s just the best way for me to be strong. Sometimes when someone else is around, I feel like I’m putting on a mask, or it makes me feel more….weak? Like maybe I can’t be okay alone or I need someone to help me through, when what I need is to fully rely on myself in that moment.
That’s not what every person needs.
I get that.
But I have finally reached a point where I’m a grown ass woman, and I fully believe that I generally know what’s best for me. I may not be right every time mind you, but I tend to move through things on my own so I have a fair amount of experience with….learning me.
And I feel good about that.
I still appreciate those I have shared with asking how I’m doing or whatever, but I sometimes just need space. Space to process, space to offload, space to decompress. And sometimes space to care for myself, or even someone else, however I see fit.
OK. About the stupid biopsy.
I have to say while it wasn’t super pleasant, it definitely could have been worse. I absolutely HATE lidocaine injections, and on occasion I might even pass and just get the procedure over with.
This was not one of those occasions.
I knew better than that! I had read the info sheets, not googling “needle biopsy” and overwhelming myself for once, but I could tell the procedure would definitely need to proceeded by local anesthetic. Yes, please!
The best part was the doctor. He had great bedside manner, keeping things light but realistic. He told me he was glad I had come in, that’s it’s best to just get to the bottom of it, and that the technology now is so amazing. He reminded me that the vast majority of breast cancers (if that’s what it is) are cured, or very treatable. The nurse assisting never really spoke to me (all the techs/nurses/assistants on Wednesdays are weird and not very personable), but he was very open, and answered questions, and of course let me know what he was doing along the way.
I did bring my music! I just put on my “liked songs” list on Spotify and forwarded to the next song if one didn’t hit me just right. Once the doctor was done with the intros and such, he began by cleaning the area and setting up a sterile field. He had the ultrasound tech get good placement so he could have good visual direction. Next was the local. I was expecting so much worse! I’m sure my anticipation of pain resulted in my feeling like it wasn’t so bad.
I thought the worst part was over.
There is a small “nick” in the skin to introduce the tool they use to collect tissue sample for biopsy. I didn’t feel that at all. I could only feel pressure sensation if anything. One thing that did bother me was that the tech just laid the wand with loose sterile wrapping right on my face! Like I was asleep or just an object. Seriously that girl needs to get another job. Anyway, sampling for biopsy with the tool.
They call it a “needle” biopsy.
I am certain that’s to not frighten people so they don’t get it done. But…it’s not a needle. Not what I would call a needle. It’s kinda like a …grabber? gun? I wasn’t looking too much really, but it’s a large bore “needle” that has some kind of telescoping something that, when he pulls the trigger that sounds like a Nerf gun, something “clips” the sample. I don’t know.
But this part was NOT numbed. Not in my case. I’m sure they can’t get the lidocaine as far in as they need to, but I definitely felt sharp and pinching sensations as they prodded and clipped at the location. Thank God they only took 2 samples instead of the 3-5 like the paper had stated!
Oh, the doctor also placed “metal clips for markers” in case of follow up care …or surgery. He all but implied he felt there would be surgery. Annyywayyy, the markers a tiny titanium pieces with “no side effects” and no way to set off metal detectors. (That’s what I really wanted to know!)
I got through that part toe-tapping to “Enter Sandman” by Metallica. Praise God for music. Seriously. It is the background for my life story.
Then, the doctor cleaned the site once more and applied pressure. He asked once again if I had more questions and reassured me that he would call me directly as soon as he was notified of results by pathology. Actually I requested that since my NP office keeps texting me to come in to discuss results….like why? They are going to tell me the next step, which I already know, and have already scheduled. What’s my NP going to do anyway? (Also, he knows I’m the patient who wants to be in control of all aspects of my care = a P.I.A patient to most healthcare workers.) The doctor left me with Miss Sunshine to apply the steri strips, briefly go over discharge care, and take me to the next room to wait for more stuff.
Wait. What? I missed something…
I thought that was it! No one had informed me we would be doing anything else. The papers didn’t mention it, the doctor didn’t mention it, and I actually did miss what she said! I thought she was taking my back to the room to get dressed. So I didn’t hear why she was dumping me in another waiting area.
Miss Sunshine had left me to Miss Snippy. Yippee. The lovely lady who did my diagnostic mammogram last visit came to get me from the waiting room. She said we would take more pics. Hmm??
“So now I’m going to be smashed after what they just did?”
She looked at me flat-faced and said, “Are you hurting? Having any pain?”
“Uhh, no not yet…”
She turns to continue on, “OK then we will go ahead and get these real quick while you’re still numb.” *eye roll*
I asked if it was to have new pics with the marker clips in place. I’m pretty sure I just got a “yes.”
I wasn’t awful, but I wasn’t pleased. And her attitude was basically placating. Whatever. When I’m done with this part of the process, I’m definitely leaving legitimate reviews so they know how at least one patient feels. They can’t improve if no one speaks up. I feel like maybe they are just scared to say anything that may be “the wrong thing” to say, but geez. Speaking, eye contact, and even therapeutic touch are supposed to be the cornerstone of compassionate healthcare.
So….here I am. On Friday. Awaiting The Call. The doctor said it’s usually Friday or Monday for biopsy pathology results, but Miss Snippy said it’s almost always Monday. I will do my best to get through the weekend trying to be present instead of just going through the motions.
Waiting. Waiting. Like my life is in limbo. Hanging in the balance. And it is out of my control, waiting for the one with the answers to call me.
