It’s been an interesting summer so far. The animals are doing great, which is a blessing. I had a mammogram back in April and while I was away in Texas, letting Crazy Cousin Louise have all the fun, I got a call to have another mammogram to confirm or deny the presence of “something.”
So, testing commenced and a biopsy was done and I was diagnosed with a DCIS… which translates to Ductal Carcinoma In-Situ. Or Stage 0 breast cancer. 100% curable. Great news!
Of course in order to remove this little beastie, I had to go through an MRI. When they want to view the breast via MRI, the body is raised and the breasts dangle down below. It’s interesting. I have claustrophobia. Not terrible until it kicks in and it did. Could Not do it the first time. I was determined the second and used Xanax to get through it. Since I never take that stuff, I was kinda giggly the rest of the day.
July 12th Flopsy had a “partial mastectomy” a.k.a. a lumpectomy although I never felt a lump. All went very well, minimal pain (and I’m a wuss when it comes to that!) and I’m constantly wearing a bra or the binder they put me in after surgery. All of that is good, I’ll have radiation therapy for a while and take tamoxifen for 5 years. I meet with my oncologist this coming week. Not a big deal.
I have been dealing with another issue though. I can’t breathe. Do anything and I get short of breath and end up sitting down. Before surgery, I had to be okay’d by my cardiologist, and I had a stress test the end of June. No surprise, I passed with flying colors. Strong heart, lousy arteries.
My p.c.p. decided a regular old stress test wasn’t sufficient. She sent me for a Calcium Score CAT Scan. Everything was ok except for one artery which came back with a 99.99% blockage. So that’s still on the table.
With everything confirmed, my surgeon saw something on my sternum. So she ordered a chest CAT scan. That confirmed something with my sternum. Don’t know what yet. I’ll be getting a call from a thorasic surgeon sometime this week. Dr. Rubino (breast surgeon) doesn’t do chest surgery.
Betty (step-mom) had become very concerned about my breathing and at her behest I made another appointment with my pcp. Dr. Angelee is wonderful.
She made me walk around the clinic and called Manchester’s ER. No ambulance, I could drive myself but she was concerned about a PE – pulmonary embolism. Those can kill. I spent 5 hours in the ER, doing my best comedy routines to keep the nurses, aides, etc. in good humor. That really did work. They enjoyed me.
Around 8:00 I called my daughter, Trudy and asked if Francis could go over and feed my animals. Of course he could. Some time after 9 p.m. I looked up and there was Francis walking into my little cube. My 16-almost-17 year old grandson stayed there with me until they sent me home. My animals were fed, Trippy didn’t bite him and Blackie loves him. He’s the best. I have a pneumonia that actually looks like covid-19 in the scans and x-rays but is not (I’ve been tested 2x in the last couple of days.). And my asthma is out of control. So I have antibiotics, cough medicine and an inhaler. I’m tired a lot.
Betty called herself “a pain in the ass” about wanting me to see the doctor. She is not. She is the best present my father left me with: a wonderful, caring step-mother. Her birthday was last Thursday and as soon as I feel better we’ll be going out to brunch to celebrate it.
Sometimes in this life we just have to admit that God knows what she’s doing. When Trudy moved in next door so many years ago I had no idea that I would gain a daughter, a son-in-law, and three beautiful grandchildren. How fortunate I am to have them. They’ve moved but they’re still my family. My granddaughter Vita has been coming over and helping me with chores around the house, and she’s a delight. The youngest is Portia, so much fun and so smart. Well, they all are.
