You can't schedule cancer.

The results of the lumpectomy I had on October 30^th came back with news I was not expecting.  

• Positive margins still on the breast tissue they removed from around the tumor 
• The tumor they removed was 5x larger than what showed up on imaging
• Tumors were found in both the sentinel nodes they took out for testing
• I went from a Grade II to a Grade III in the aggressiveness of the cancer.  Grade III is the most aggressive.

I received this news just two days after receiving my acceptance letter from the Bay College Nursing Department.  I was set to begin my clinicals in January and continue moving forward towards my degree.

My reaction, when Dr. Edwards gave me the news, was “Oh wow.  That’s unexpected.” Followed by an uncontrollable welling of tears and a wave of heat and electricity that ran through my body from the top of my head to my toes.

Inside my head I was screaming “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” at the Universe.  “Can't I get a break??  Just once???”

When I was first diagnosed and met with Dr. Edwards, the general surgeon, it was assumed everything had been caught early enough that a lumpectomy would easily get the cancer out, and I’d just have some radiation to follow up and all would be done by the end of the year.   That's how I wanted it to happen, because at that point I was expecting that I would be accepted to the nursing program and I didn't want anything to interfere. 

At least, that’s how it was supposed to happen.

However, life rarely goes as planned, and when you throw something like cancer in the mix, it makes it even more unpredictable. 

All the plans had changed from what they were the week prior.  

Instead of the radiation I was expecting after the lumpectomy, chemotherapy was definitely on the table now.  I had to decide if I wanted to let Dr. Edwards go back in for a re-excision of my breast to see if he could get the rest of cancer, or to opt for a mastectomy.  If I went with a mastectomy I needed to decide if I wanted to just take the left breast, or if I wanted to a double mastectomy, and if I would want breast reconstruction.

I left the appointment, made it to my car, and broke down in tears in the parking lot.  All the stress and tension that had built up from the day I had been first diagnosed, a month and a half prior, finally surfaced and I sat there and I sobbed uncontrollably.  I had been holding so much of my fears and worries inside me, in order to not be a burden to others, but the news I had just received was too much to hold in.  I cried for a good 15 minutes, not caring if anyone saw me.  I just needed to get it all out.

After my tears ran dry, I gathered myself together and called Gerry.  He asked if I was okay.  I said I wasn't.  He told me to go home and take it easy.  I told him that's what I was planning on doing.  I called my chemistry instructor to let him know I wasn't coming to class that day.  I went home and sat on my sofa with my laptop and began to feverishly research the pros and cons of re-excision vs. mastectomy.  I researched breast construction.  I researched chemo for breast cancer.  

Gerry called and told me he was coming home early and did I want to go for lunch.  I said yes.  I needed to get my mind off of the news and focus on more pleasant things.  We went to Elizabeth's Chop House, had a couple of martini's with our lunch and then came home.  

Ironically, later that evening I cracked open a beer, and sat down to finish watching the NBC nightly new with Lester Holt, and he begins reporting on the connection between breast cancer and women who are moderate drinkers.  

I dumped my beer out.