Ultrasound Core Biopsy

Home again, home again, jiggity jig. R&R was the theme for the day. It was nice to get back to the house where Steve and Nancy had been moving stuff from there to Nancy's place. Steve, my brother-in-law, was visiting from Scituate for 2.5 days and the goal was to move some furniture to Nancy's house and continue going through the 50+ years' worth of accumulated stuff in our house. I appreciated Steve, Greg, and Nancy's efforts at this overwhelming task. They just kept chipping away at this project, little by little. And I enjoyed their company while I was sitting around trying to think happy thoughts. Their energy was contagious and their spirits were high which kept me from going towards the dark side. The doctor's office thought I should be off the entire day after the procedure and they were right.

Steve treated us to ribs and pulled pork sandwiches for dinner from City Barbeque. Oh, so delectable. Then, more Graeter's. It's a Hartlaub tradition to have at least three flavors of Graeter's ice cream stocked in the freezer at all times whenever the Kaplan-Hartlaub Crew is in town. This week was no different although three-fourths of the Crew remained in Scituate. We could not break with tradition.

The white death was predicted for the next day when Steve was scheduled to return to Scituate. I went to work very early along with my suitcase planning to spend the night in West Chester at Staybridge Suites. It might turn into my annual retreat. The motel gives us a great corporate rate for one snowy night's rest and relief from icy roads, a long commute and impatient drivers.

I expected Dr. Runk to call me Friday, not Thursday. So, when my cell phone rang Thursday evening while I was relaxing in retreat-mode and Dr. Runk told me that I had invasive lobular carcinoma, I was stunned. She wanted to make an appointment with me for the next day and I agreed.

From that point, I went into shock. I called Greg, Diane and Joules for support. But I went to bed that night with a great weight on my mind.

Blessed&Holy

Ok. So, I admit it. Now I was actually worrying. Every few seconds my mind would jump to a harrowing conclusion based on nothing. I mean, how could it keep coming up with such wild and crazy thoughts? I can't even remember now what any of the scenarios were. But they were emotionally draining. Mostly I imaged myself dead and my children motherless. And my husband spouseless. And my friends, well, friendless.

The ultrasound core biopsy procedure was scheduled for Wednesday, January 19, 2011 at 10:30 a.m. at ProScan's Red Bank Imaging Center. Coincidentally across the hall from Cincinnati Breast Surgeons. Greg, Wren, and Joules came with me as my cheering section. Even though I thought I was doing okay, just between you and me, I was a basket case underneath it all.

At the Imaging Center, I was escorted back to change into a gown and then taken to another room where I met Blessed&Holy (not her real name) (and you have to admit the meaning of her name is awesome) and the Trainee whose name I've completely forgotten and that bothers me because I'm good with names.

Blessed&Holy explained the procedure to me and the importance of lying PERFECTLY STILL during the entire thing so they wouldn't have to do it all over again. I was fascinated by Blessed&Holy's accent. Blessed&Holy said she came here from Russia about eighteen years ago. How cool is it to meet someone from Russia? I told her that my grandparents came here from Lithuania in the early 1900's. I thought we could bond because Lithuania and Russia are neighbors. Wrong. Turns out that Russians and Lithuanians (according to Blessed&Holy) are not fond of each other. They are, actually, hostile and hateful.

I apologized for my ancestors antics and backpedaled. Blessed&Holy was not offended that I brought up the subject but she did share an incident when an 80-year-old patient yelled at her for being Russian. For crying out loud. People who are prejudiced about stuff like this are just so rude. But my new Russian friend was very gracious and she forgave that cranky old woman.

In the meantime, Blessed&Holy proceeded to numb my right breast with a long needle. Then, and I'm not sure exactly how this all played out, I think she used the ultrasound wand to locate the 1 cm tumor that had taken up residence in me and explained how Dr. Runk would take a few samples of the tumor's tissue for the biopsy. The tool that the doctor would use made a strange click-click sound with every sample extracted. It was noisy but not painful.

I was done. We departed the Imaging Center and went somewhere to debrief. Where did we go? Hyde Park Graeter's for ice cream which somehow was not as comforting as I had hoped. We could have gone to Teller's of Hyde Park for a glass of wine because they were doing a fundraiser for the Karen Wellington Foundation but, at the time, I was emotionally exhausted and just wanted to go home. But we did stop by the Hyde Park Branch of the library to visit Isaac. Then we headed home to wait for the biopsy results which would take another 2-3 days.

Meeting Dr. Runk

The next step was to find an excellent breast surgeon. A friend who had a mastectomy two years prior to this, loved her surgeon, Dr. Stahl, but she was NOT in our network, damn it. My gynocologist recommended Dr. Dianne Runk, who, it turns out is in our network and is a damn good surgeon.

The appointment with Dr. Runk happened two days after the fateful mammogram/ultrasound shellacking. Greg went along to provide moral support; the gravity of it all hadn't sunk in yet, at least not with me. Dr. Runk did a typical breast exam and could actually feel the small tumor on the right side. I tried at home to feel it but couldn't, or maybe I didn't try very hard.

Dr. Runk is a straight shooter. She stated the blunt facts, looked directly into my eyes and pronounced that I needed an ultrasound core needle biopsy to determine whether the tumor was malignant or benign. Her scheduler, Kim, met with us to set up the biopsy procedure which would be done at the ProScan location in the same building as Dr. Runk's office. I still wasn't worried.

I come from a long line of famous worriers. My mom was great at imagining the worst case scenario for any situation. Or so I thought. It turns out that my Dad could out-worry my mom.

Now, what does worrying accomplish anyway? Even though I'm such an awesome worrier, it's one of my best traits BTW, God tells us not to worry. I'm supposed to be casting my burdens on Him. And not worried about tomorrow for tomorrow will care for itself because each day has enough trouble of its own. AND even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil for YOU are with me. So there you have it.

I wouldn't have believed it was possible but I do now. What? Oh, that all of the prayers being said on my behalf have taken away my fears and worries. What's left? Simply to enjoy being with my fellow travelers on this road. Those who have gone down this road before me and those who haven't traveled it yet. Praying always in every situation for everyone else is all I can do.

"An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up." Proverbs 12:25