Feeling Like a Tomato Queen: 40th Birthday Surprise!

This whole cancer razzmatazz started around the middle of March 2016 when I felt something rather grande in my left hoot nanny. It didn't feel like a marble or a Mike and Ike or a Skittle or squishy or any of the other ways I have heard cancer described. It felt like a big muscle mass. Like the size of a small fist. Some girls might say, "Holy Smokes--that is bigger than my entire boob!" But I am of sturdy German stock, and well, I am a solid, sturdy girl! So I didn't think much of it, because I had three kids in less than three years and my knockers felt like that when I was pregnant. (FYI, I hate saying the word "breast." It reminds me of what really sophisticated people that are probably smarter than me would say. And it reminds me of a sandwich. So forgive me my uncouth verbage. But I bet you are impressed that I know the word "uncouth!")

I forgot about it for a few days. And then at lunch with my DHS "current events discussing" third lunch crew, I mentioned that I felt something. And boy were they all over me like white on rice. My sister-in-law and spirit animal, Tia, insisted that I call and schedule an appointment right away. Yea, Yea. I would. And then I get the 12 steps to my classroom and I have an email from fellow teacher and linguist, Liz, to call immediately--that she or Tia would cover my class while I did. But of course I couldn't leave my student blessings! I had to teach my babies how to read! It was right before state testing time! But I called and was scheduled for a mammo on March 23rd in the afternoon. One of the last appointments of the day.

But I need to rewind with some background information. My home girls were insistent that I make an appointment because my mom had breast cancer when she was 44. She is now 65. Plus my paternal grandmother and Aunt Kathy also had it fairly young. I had had a mammo back in 2014 because of my family history--and it came back clear. My post card had recently come in the mail to schedule another--so I was about right on schedule.

However, I was much more concerned about my 30-10th birthday celebration! This was a momentous occasion. I mean, it is not every day a girl turns 30-10. The celebration started right after I scheduled my mammogram at this little hole in the wall motel called the Ritz Carlton of Naples. My swanky BFF Jamie got Tia and I in with Club Level privileges. And if you don't know what "Club Level" is, well then you probably don't have enough "couth" to be hanging with the likes of us. But I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with unlimited champagne and desserts with actual gold flakes on them. I totally belonged there. And it was obvious that the people of the Ritz loved us, as evidenced by the swag bags we came rolling home with.

That's called club level private roof top terrace. Commoners are not allowed up there. Which is why we are there.

And these are not just regular ol' seats on the beach. We had special passes given to us for chairs and umbrellas. But Jamie hadn't seen the sun in a while, and was what we southerners call Elmer's Pasty. So we donated our umbrellas to some fellas.

Pina Coladas on the beach at the Ritz. This is my true calling in life.

I remember sitting up in club level after a day of massages and lounging in the "adults only relaxation pool", and chatting about my upcoming boobie screening. Not worried at all. Then switching our conversation back to high school gossip and filling Tia in on all of the back stories of people from back home. Of course we Facebook stalked everyone to give a visual to Tia. It's what Facebook is for. Duh. So if you attended high school in Henry County and ever made out in the back seat of a Monte Carlo at some party way out on a county road--you know we were talking about you. And I know about 89% of my readers are now thinking, "Oh crap." But don't worry. We said nice things!

After my grand visit, it was back to reality making mothering and teaching and wifing look effortless. But just for a few days--because it was going to be SPRANG BREAK college style in just a few days. On Wednesday the 23rd, the day before the last day of school--2 days before my 40th birthday, I had my mammogram.

I went in all nonchalant like, "I got this." Because I really did think that I did not have a problem. I immediately was accosted by my very strong personalitied and of Latin descent technician. I mentioned I felt something and she lost her mind. "Why deeeeedn't chu tell them about dee lump when you scheduled?!" And I thought to myself, "Welp, that's why I came in! Isn't that why you come in for mammograms?!" So I got a severe tongue lashing and I only understood 1/3rd of it. Apparently you are supposed to disclose any mysterious findings to the scheduler. Duly noted. She smashed my boobs, took her pics and sternly told me that she would need more pictures and that they would be calling me back. Okuly Dokuly. I was not worried. I had my "surprise" 40th birthday happy hour the next day at the bowling alley after work. Obviously my DHS colleagues and I are very classy.

And then I missed the phone call from my doctor. Because I was at my surprise party that I told Tia to throw for me on that day. Which she did not plan. Even though I gave her five months notice. Our computer dorkasaurus department planned it. And I just let everyone know that it was my surprise party.

Friday morning. My birfday. I woke up with some fresh acne. Probably because I had not given in to selling Rodan and Fields. But I didn't care. I had just lost 11 lbs on Weight Watchers. I was only 10 lbs short of my goal that I was supposed to hit for my birthday. Apparently you are supposed to watch what you eat every day. Who knew?! What evs. I was going out with my girl squad to class it up on Ft. Myers Beach. I called my doc back in the AM and figured I would leave a message for his nurse. I was slightly surprised when my actual doctor got on the line and told me I would need to go back for more testing and that he was ordering a biopsy and ultrasound. I asked him if this was something I should be uber worried about. He said that there were some abnormalities and left it at that. I still wasn't scurred. Because I was about to go party and I was Shawty and it was my birfday. And I had no kids. That never ever happens.

An hour later my Taylor Swift style girl squad shows up at the Boathouse for Mimosas. I gather them around and tell them that we really need to seize the day, because I might have cancer. Not ever thinking that I might actually have cancer. I might have thrown that in just to make sure that no one was going to wimp out and go home early to take care of their kids. This was my day dammit!

Debauchery took over, we had a grand time. All weekend. But I still hadn't heard from the Radiology place. I took that as a good sign. I called my doc back to see what was going on. I could tell his nurse was ticked that Radiology Regional had not called me. She said that orders were sent on the 24th and it was now the 29th. So I called the Radiology place. And of course I couldn't get through. At this point I am starting to get a smidgen concerned. But just figured I had some benign tumor. It never felt like a cyst.

Finally got through the next day to Radiology Regional. I must have had an apprentice without her mentor on the phone. 'Cause I swear that baby girl was talking about fruit bats and midgets and I was talking about making an appointment for an ultrasound. Scheduling this sucker took almost an hour. She asked me if I had taken any ibuprofen in the past few days. Ummm of course I did. I was hungover from my 40th. I am no longer a whippersnapper that can just eat a Nacho Bell Grande and a Chalupa and be cured. So that set my biopsy back. You can't have any sort of blood thinner in your body. Then of course we were going to Orlando and the Nickelodeon Hotel for Caroline's 5th birthday over the weekend, and that set the biopsy back even further. I finally scheduled it for Monday afternoon. A teacher duty day. I figured I could get my grades in and then go. Tia Pot said that she would go with me. I told Clay that it was no biggie and to just stay at work.

By Sunday evening I had started googling stuff because I had this line and indentation on my left under boob. It was faint, but when I lifted my arm it would really suck in. According to my web research, this was a for sure sign of cancer. And in my heart I knew it was. But for some reason I was not scared. I figured it would just be a dash of cancer, they would do some radiation, I would get a little vacation from teaching and mothering, and it would be all over. That didn't seem so bad! I could totally handle that!

Monday was the day. I thankfully had done most of my grades before break, so I was done before the appointment. Tia and I had a nice little lunch at Panera (teachers get excited about things like lunching at a restaurant in the middle of the week, because we NEVER get to do that!) and we were off. We arrive at Radiology Regional. Only to find out that my not the sharpest tool in the shed scheduler had sent me to to the wrong place. Are. you. kidding. me? So we drive 20 minutes across town and are now late. Anxiety is starting to creep in. Thank you Jesus that Tia was driving.

We arrive to a much more crowded radiology site. But this was all divine intervention, because I ended up with a fantastic radiologist. That told me straight up answers and didn't make me wait to hear from my primary doctor. She is also from Ohio. Not a koinky dink.

I start with the ultra sound. I try to get info out of the tech. She of course abstains. I ask her if it is filled with fluid and she says it is solid. I knew that wasn't good. And then Dr. Peterson came in and held my hand as I was laying on the table. And I knew I was going to hear bad news. She told me that she had been doing this for 18 years, but she knew even before she did the biopsy that is was abnormal and that it was cancer. In all four quadrants. She told me that she was going to wave her magic wand and get me in to the best surgeon immediately. Like yesterday. She performed the biopsy, and went to make a personal call to Dr. Aihara, the surgeon. She came back and told me that I was scheduled for the next day at the surgeon and they had MRIs and all sorts of other appointments set up that week. That fast. I asked her to tell the news to Tia. And when she came back with Tia is when I told her I wasn't ready to die, that I had a 5,6, and 7 year old, and I cried. Because I didn't want my kids to have to go through this. I mean, they still think getting a blue cup instead of a red cup constitutes an emergency. And that my sole purpose in life is to make them peanut butter jelly sandwiches. Or at the least, microwave an Uncrustable for 15 seconds. Honestly, I much prefer the Uncrustables. It makes life so much better. The person that invented those deserves a bronze statue in my kitchen.

I won't go into the details of the tears. But I did tell Tia to pull it together after she had a moment. I was, and still am for the most part very robotic emotionally about this whole thing. Like, God made doctors and nurses to take care of pesky problems like this--and they would do just that. Take care of it!

I know I was granted a week and a half of supa-fun before treatment for a reason! So here are some presentable pics from my spring break birthday!