So what has been stuffed into the last month feels like, I imagine, beings stuffed inside the Staypuff Marshmallow suit. SO much so that I was toying with the idea of calling this the Fatty Blog by a Fatty Blob. I know it sounds silly but let me tell you about my fat-filled adventures of the past 4 1/2 weeks.
A bit more than a month ago I woke up unable to move my leg. This normally would have been a “good day” in my cycle between chemos. So immediately a bit of fear struck me – it was like a brick falling on my head. Tears began to fall, negativity filled my inner thoughts, and fear for my kids bubbled up into my throat. I sat up in bed – and saw that my left knee (on the inside) was twice the size it was the night before. Sheer terror filled my being. This is what my mom’s legs looked like towards the end. I couldn’t control my body – I sobbed and shook and became overwhelmed with dread.
I watched the clock until it hit 9 am – so I could call the Dr immediately. The NP heard the fear in my voice and said “get here now.” Scott was still not allowed in the building with me so I was alone, in pain, and truly afraid. Two Scans were already scheduled. Both with IV contrast. Something, that for me is so anxiety-producing. Let me explain why. When I had done chemo for my Breast Cancer years ago, I had the choice of getting a port or using my veins directly. I was trying to be a bigshot. A warrior, unflappable and, frankly obnoxiously filled with false bravado. In the end, I blew every vein – they all collapse, roll or, worse, pop, and/or inflame. I, unfortunately, have had this trouble ever since. My own fault – so I accept it, but I have never had a smooth time of having IV’s put in since. Anyway back to the scan. The first was of the leg, and second was of the chest – because needless to say I was having chest pains from the anxiety.
Forty-eight hours of waiting was a bit torturous for me. My chest was beginning to calm, and my leg – well, the swelling hadn’t changed, but it wasn’t throbbing anymore. So I took that as a good sign. That was until the call came in. Dr. Sadan called to let me know that the mass in my leg is called a Lipoma – a 15 cm Lipoma – ” A what? I ask nervously.” A 15 centimeter mass of Fatty Tissue. “NOOOOOOOOO!” I screamed internally. It can’t be. Fatty tissue — Haven’t I had enough — 3 cancer’s, 4 types of Chemo & Radiation (which cause most to lose weight but – ooh, but not me – I only lose my hair which weighs nothing). Fatty tissue is just another a side affect – damn, I got enough of that already. “Is there anything I can do ?” I asked the Dr. “Short of surgically removing – Nope!” Well good news, yes, but still being fatty didn’t cause a happy dance.
My next week goes by unceremoniously. Thankfully, because then I am hit with 2 new masses. Neither feeling like the one on my leg. One is on my right breast – which I find odd since I had a double mastectomy 10 years ago. This one coincided with some disturbing blood test results. There is a Tumor marker titled Breast Assay 27.29 that I am tested for every 3 to 6 weeks. It lets you know the presence of potential disease but – not a definitive positive or negative. My last three tests showed my numbers elevating – and then Wednesday evening I felt a small pea-like lump on my right upper breast. It was hard and it was sensitive to the touch – nothing good about those two characteristics. After the scare from the week before – I remained calm. So much so I didn’t tell Scott until Saturday. But then something warned me it was time to fill him in. And I did. Tuesday Morning I was once again in at the Ultrasound Lab. This time though, a red flag was waving – and a biopsy was scheduled. So calm went out of the window yet again. By the end of the week, another Lump was found – this time under my left arm towards my back. They were popping up everywhere.
This positive, strong, and forward-looking cancer survivor and patient began to rewrite her will. She had written letters to her friends, and given instructions to her brother. Positivity had left the building along with Elvis — and for those that know me – I would never believe that could happen. I am a diehard optimist, a true believer that I can overcome whatever is thrown at me – and I have proven it. Up until this point I have been resolute and steadfast in the knowledge that I will fight whatever is thrown at me — and yet these 3 weeks broke me — they were the straw that broke my resilience. I was a blubbering mess. I was not walking away from this – I was Debbie Downer – the single entity I NEVER WANTED TO BE! I kept my distance from everyone that week. My Rocks noticed I wasn’t returning calls – so they reached out to Scott. I can not remember who told them what was going on cause it was just a blur. But they let me knew they were there for me in any way I needed them and I knew they meant it — I just couldn’t face them or what was happening.
Friday they scheduled an UltraSound on my Back. I arrived, a bit shaky but ready. At first, they had trouble getting an image. The technician, who was lovely told me she was going to get the Radiologist because she was having a bit of difficulty — she tried to sound light-hearted — I just couldn’t tell if she found something or if she was just relatively new at this. I tried to remain calm but a few teardrops began to fall. It took about 5 minutes for the Dr. to come in. We exchanged a few pleasantries to assuage my fear and then he got back to work. It wasn’t a minute before he began to speak. He was very thorough about the type of masses that can be found in a body, but frankly, I wanted to know only about this one….then finally he came to it. “Yours,” he said, “is what is called a Lipoma, or a grouping of fatty cells. They are not dangerous and unless they become painful I suggest you leave them alone.” I began to weep uncontrollably. The Dr thought it was joyful tears –partly, maybe, but also somewhat distraught – I was once again wracked with the thought that my body is slowly becoming a Botero painting – gloriously clad with clumps of fat. I still had the biopsy ahead. This lump had none of the same characteristics as the others so I was still feeling slightly negative. But this was a Monday thing so the wait continued.
Monday morning I was a true mess. I didn’t sleep a wink and my nerves were racing. I could feel my heart beating and thumping….I was straight-up scared. The worst I had been in 2 weeks. The blood test numbers pointed to a cancerous tumor, the original ultrasound was very sketchy and even though I just had 2 bits of good news — I couldn’t fathom having 3. The staff was incredible – but it didn’t help to calm me — I was sobbing uncontrollably with fear. They explained they couldn’t start until I calmed down – which I tried to do several times. The Dr. explained every step and she did so accurately, but my eyes still dripped with tears. Lidocaine first to numb the area, then a Novocaine shot (which stings a bit more than expected by the way) to numb the mass, and then the needle biopsy. Five clicks and it’s done. I began to cry again – just because I was thankful it was over. Before I left, they gave me a bit of wound care instructions and let me know I would have the results by Thursday. Yeah – More Waiting!
Tuesday afternoon my Dr. called – it kind of scared me becasue I wasn’t expecting her call, so I picked up quickly. ” Carol? It’s Sandy. I have the biopsy results.” I was dead silent and couldn’t move. “Do you want me to send them to you or tell you over the phone or both?” “Tell me”, I jumped. It’s what’s called a Fatty Necrosis – it is a condition that occurs when a person experiences an injury to an area of fatty tissue.” “Are you kidding me? Now my fat is getting Fat globs – will it ever end.” We both laughed and she said she was happy to have given me the good news – if that is what you would call it! Which it is and I know it – but really enough with the Fat already.
Well the good news is I am back on the positivity train. I am feeling as though I still have the opportunity of a bright and long future — albeit I will make sure to keep paying my WW dues for the rest of my life (I truly am a lifetime member) – cause I see a lot more Fat in my Future. I hope to trim away any residual negativity this may have left and find a way for this Fat Blogger with cancer to deal with Her Fat Blobbers that have no cancer!
Have a great day -and remember FAT is not always bad news or ugly news – Fat can be beautiful – just ask Botero!
Carol
The Cancer Made Me Do It, AGAIN! 