![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ricevermicelli...if the core biopsy samples were atypical, if the unbiopsied abnormal tissue contained malignancies, if the flash biopsies were false negatives
I said that the other day. I'm three for three.
I have special cancer, that attracts biopsy needles to its least alarming parts. The biopsy samples were not representative of the surrounding tissue. The unbiopsied abnormal tissue was rife with malignancies. The flash biopsies were false negatives. I have this whole pathology report - mostly, it reads as a compelling indictment of my erstwhile breast. That thing was out to get me.
What's all that mean for my prognosis? It means I'm going to have a lousier year than previously expected. I get aggressive chemotherapy. I get to inject my own damn self with drugs intended to keep my white cell counts from tanking (this is trivial, but kind of looms large in my head). Then, I get radiation. The overall course of treatment is expected to last at least nine months, and they can't start until I've recovered some more from the mastectomy, and they've had a chance to look at me with more imaging tech and install a port. Fun times!
This morning, Danger Lad! came upstairs while I was getting Hotspur dressed. He'd been sliding on his socks, he complained, and fell on his tailbone. I administered maternal non-sympathy. "That's a known risk of sliding on your socks," I said. (This is part of a sneaky educational plan whereby we expose our children to big words and lofty concepts until they figure out that all the sympathy in the world comes from Grandma.) He nodded, and then got a pillow from his room and headed back downstairs, to the hardwood floors.
I said that the other day. I'm three for three.
I have special cancer, that attracts biopsy needles to its least alarming parts. The biopsy samples were not representative of the surrounding tissue. The unbiopsied abnormal tissue was rife with malignancies. The flash biopsies were false negatives. I have this whole pathology report - mostly, it reads as a compelling indictment of my erstwhile breast. That thing was out to get me.
What's all that mean for my prognosis? It means I'm going to have a lousier year than previously expected. I get aggressive chemotherapy. I get to inject my own damn self with drugs intended to keep my white cell counts from tanking (this is trivial, but kind of looms large in my head). Then, I get radiation. The overall course of treatment is expected to last at least nine months, and they can't start until I've recovered some more from the mastectomy, and they've had a chance to look at me with more imaging tech and install a port. Fun times!
This morning, Danger Lad! came upstairs while I was getting Hotspur dressed. He'd been sliding on his socks, he complained, and fell on his tailbone. I administered maternal non-sympathy. "That's a known risk of sliding on your socks," I said. (This is part of a sneaky educational plan whereby we expose our children to big words and lofty concepts until they figure out that all the sympathy in the world comes from Grandma.) He nodded, and then got a pillow from his room and headed back downstairs, to the hardwood floors.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-28 03:17 pm (UTC)Totally supportive of the maternal non-sympathy. There is a time and place for actual real non-snarky sympathy and a time and place for laughing out loud at their pains and this falls very kindly into the appropriate middle.