meeting my oncologist

It's been a few weeks since I've written. To be honest, I've been in a  daze of information and tests and changes in diagnosis and treatment, etc.

As a side note, I decided I should call it boob cancer. It kinda makes you smile when you say it as opposed to "breast"  Kevin said he can't call it that but I can.

Earlier in the day on March 13, I had my appointment with my oncologist. Dr Esplin.
I woke up that morning feeling positive and strong, and then on my way to the appointment, something just cracked and I was so irritable and on the verge of tears. Then we walked into the office and all I wanted to do was run away. I felt like I was in the wrong place. This is not the place for me to be! I am not one of these people!  We checked in and sat down and directly in front of me was the room.

The door was open and I could see into the room where all the cancer patients were sitting getting their cocktails of chemo.  Inside I was screaming. No I don't want to do that. I don't belong here. This is not real!

We finally got called back to meet with Dr. Esplin. He was really great and explained a lot of things and how treatment would go. He spent a lot of time answering our questions. We both feel really good about both him and Dr. Tittensor.  The only thing that was bad was when he checked my "boobs" while I was still sitting up and I just lifted up my shirt.  Don't you think it's much better when you're laying down so you don't have to look them in the face while they're checking any part of your body out....especially the private ones?

So we felt pretty confident with the schedule I would be keeping which all depended on the PET scan.

Later in the day, Dr. Esplin called to tell me the results from my biopsy.  The tests came back as inconclusive!   I know right?  Inconclusive????  So they thought there were some abnormalities in the cells, but they were so small they couldn't use the dye to detect the cancer, but they decided that with the look of my breast and everything else, they are going to move forward as if it is inflammatory.

So I was pretty upset and felt defeated again. Every time I start to feel hopeful that it's not as bad as I think, I find out it was even worse than I thought!  After my cry of self pity, I picked myself back up and waited for the the next test....a week away..... My PET scan.