The pathologist’s report came in and Rex and I headed down to Boise. What we expected to learn and what we did learn were two entirely different things.
We expected that these final results would tell us what size the tumor was and if it were estrogen-positive. We expected to stay overnight with at our Steve’s house. We expected to get up early on Tuesday and go have our cholesterol checked at the county’s health clinic. We never expected the unexpected.
Sitting in the surgeon’s examining room while waiting for Dr. L.., Rex and I asked and received a copy of the lab report. Truthfully, many of the terms didn’t have any meaning for us but one line caused our hearts to skip a beat. Upon further examination, the sentinel lymph node showed a micro metastasis of .15 cm. Did that mean what we thought it might mean?
It did. Dr. L… had told Rex at the time of surgery that only 1 in 50 or 100 sentinel lymph nodes that test negative at first examination turn out with a different result upon further testing. I was that 1 in 100.
Shattered. Devastated. Broad-sided. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Dr. L… rushed to assure us that the cancer was very small and could easily be taken care of with chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy. Tears began to down my face which only moments before was beaming with health and the happy feeling that ‘all was well.’ I only half heard what she said as she explained to Rex the several options I had, conventional medically speaking.
Hearing that cancer had been found in the sentinel lymph node changed everything. Gone from my mind was the plan I’d confidently assembled relative to my course of treatment: “No thank you, doctor. No chemotherapy. No radiation. No hormone therapy. Just the determination to prevent cancer from recurring by balancing the hormones and causing lingering individual cancer cells to self-destruct (apoptosis) in a natural way through natural means.”
We did not stay over at Steve’s. I only wanted to go home. Rex was almost as numb as I was… We talked; I cried. We prayed; I cried. Rex hugged me; I cried. The shock was accompanied by a good deal of anger: with God; with me; with the cruel fate ‘life’ seems to have dealt me/us. Sleep was as far away from my mind as a happy thought. I finally fell asleep exhausted about 4 AM.
UPDATE: Several months later, after we’d adjusted our course of treatment, we learned from two separate sources that in many conventional medical circles, a micro metastasis of .15 does not especially warrant further treatment. The systemic oncologist counseling me informed us that many oncologists don’t consider that amount “cancerous.” In addition, after my first follow-up checkup, which included a mammogram, the radiologist who read my films said, “I remember your case. There was a lot of discussion as to whether or not to call it cancerous.” So, lesson learned: never trust one medical ‘authority.’ Get a second opinion!
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