What the Fluff
I have struggled since the 500 to find my MOJO and motivation to work out like I used to. The thought of biking after years of nonstop riding JUST to get to 7/2022 had taken its toll. The exhaustion lasted longer than it has in the past and the idea that maybe I was back in an Autoimmune hole was a reality. In January I rediscovered my love of 3am and lifting. I was on a roll and going 6 days a week. I was so excited to go into my 50th year jacked and could see me at my 50th party with guns and boulder shoulders. I was ready. Sure, there were some small setbacks, but they were only a few days long at most.
The first set back was with a call at 10pm in mid-January from my breast doctor telling me they found a mass after a very long-awaited MRI of my armpit that I have had chronic issues with going back a few years. I am always asleep at this time but for some reason I looked at my phone to check the time and a call was coming in. Honestly, I assumed it was work so I answered. An ultrasound was set up for a few days later. The Dr came in and said it doesn't look right so we came back 5 hours later to do a biopsy.
48 hours later back to lifting.
10 days later Benign.
I should have been excited, but I wasn't. I just had a weird feeling. I couldn't (or didn't) want to explain it for fear it would seem negative Nelly. My Dr wanted another biopsy because she and the other surgeon just didn't feel good about it. So in for a 2nd biopsy... MRI Biopsy. 0 stars. Do not recommend.
2 weeks without lifting (exhaustion).
A week later Benign.
I had already planned on having it taken out when I 1st heard there was a mass. Thankfully my surgeons left it up to me and when I said "get that shit out" they both said they agreed. Nobody wanted to keep an eye on this for the next lord knows how many years.
I already planned to have a prophylactic mastectomy post surgery because I was high risk of getting breast cancer after a genetic test. This was not an easy decision but one I made based on my risk and my fear of going through this all again in my 70s or 8os.
So I had surgery (lumpectomy) in March. Honestly, I didn't think much of it after the surgery. I figured I'd recover and head back to work, schedule mastectomy and get on with life by late fall.
11 days post surgery my surgeon calls at 11pm and leaves a message. I don't get a hold of her until the next day but I just knew. If she was ok with leaving messages this whole time but this time the only message was
Call me.
Something was not ok. Turns out that after 2 benign biopsies this fucker was cancer and living on the back of the mass they found.
Ugh
So here we go. I've made a decision. Mastectomy is no longer the course of action. However, because this has been so unusual there are a lot of possible outcomes from the next surgery.
But as usual.... we will cross that bridge when we get to it.
Now let's go back to the 1st biopsy. Even when you prep for the worst you can't really prep for a Doctor to come into the room, ask you to sit and hold your hand while she tells you a mass doesn't look good. So as emo Heidi is about to get her 4th mammo of the day to make sure the titanium seed they planted is dead balls center I head into a new mommo room. I look to the left as soon as I get in and start to cry. There is a lamp with hummingbirds facing in the right direction and similiar colors to my tattoo. Everyone gets emotional with me. They all know and they have all heard the story. They call her by name and say
Mary says it's going to be ok. At that very moment I knew...Mary says it is the best worst case scenario BUT it's going to be ok. I knew this was how it was going to end the morning after that 1st phone call. BUT... I also knew it was always going to be ok. As it is and will be.
I didn't tell many people what was happening when I found out about the mass. Its a long story but I grew up believing that every word I spoke was a lie so I had a very difficult time believing I wasn’t making this up. It is hard to explain to an adult who wasn’t gaslit as a child but even up until 2 weeks ago I couldn’t say I have cancer because I truly and honestly believed I was lying. I told myself early on I would tell more people if the diagnosis shifted. So here we are. I’ve told all my close peeps and I have had time to process it all on my own over the last 5 long weeks. Sorry but ya all are 2nd and 3rd string. I still can’t say I have it because that deep seeded childhood trauma doesn’t go away in a few months, but I can say I have been diagnosed with Breast Cancer. and will spend the start of my 50th year less buff and less active than I hoped for but I am alive and kicking.
Many things in my life trying to kill me…...this time it's my own boobies and I'm prepared.
