First, the good news. My cancer is Stage 1, grade II. This is news I was mostly expecting but it is still nice to have the pathology report to confirm it. And in other good news, the cancer is not the dreaded triple negative. I don't know why that is a worse kind of cancer but it is. I suspect it has something to do with having less treatment options. My tumor is positive for both estrogen and progesterone which means it is fuelled by both of those hormones. For those of you who like internet researching I have IDC, stage 1, grade II ER+/PR+ cancer with the Her2 status yet to be defined. For the Her2 status, I am right on the border between + and - so they are going to do one more test to determine if I would benefit from herceprin. I'm not sure, but it seems that positive Her2 status isn't such a great thing as it means the cancer is more agressive and more likely to reoccur. However, there is also a drug tailored to treat cancer of this kind and it seems to be quite successful at reducing reoccurrence. I have to do a lot more research (read: Paul has to do a lot more research and then tell me about it) but this herceptin sounds like unpleasant stuff. But then, so does mostly everything to do with cancer treatment.
The good/bad news is I will have to do a whole whack of treatments and therapies. The next 5 years of my life will be spent getting treatment for cancer. Chemo, then radiation, then hormone therapy. I'm glad to get it all - anything I can do to reduce my chance of a reoccurrence is something I am going to do. I'm scared about how much chemo will suck and about being bald or gaining weight - you know, all the great stuff that comes with chemo. On the upside, there is a chance chemo will make me lose weight. Yes, another silver lining! However, all this treatment means definitely no kids for the next five years. In more depressing news, it also means there is a chance that there will never be kids. Right now I can't worry about that too much. I have to make sure I'm around in five years first, but let's face it, if I can't pass on my genetic awesomeness the world loses.
The straight up bad news is my surgery site is infected. If I were not leaving for Canada today this would be less of an issue but since my surgeon can't see me for the next ten days he took an aggressive stance on treatment. Guess who had minor surgery this morning? Guess who wishes she could un-see the inside of her breast? (As an aside, it really does look like those boob models they show you in health class - fatty tissue in yellow bumpy waves. It was crazy!) Did you guess me? Smart readers! The doctor numbed me up and excised the infected tissue. That is a nice way of saying he cut it out. While I was awake. And could see. I tried not to look but curiosity got the better of me a handful of times. Oh Laura, when will you learn? You never want to know what you look like on the inside! He also drained the fluid that was building up in the hole left by Ethel with the hugest syringe I have ever seen. It looked like a lot of serum (yes, that is what they call it) came out but I asked and it was only 30 cc's. I guess that is still a fair amount but it is only two tablespoons.
Anyway, I have to wrap this up as my plane is boarding. Canada ho!