Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I had an MRI today with and without contrast, I have genetic counseling tomorrow to test my DNA for lots of genes, and I have an official diagnosis: invasive lobular carcinoma stage 2 or stage 3a if they are using the new standards for diagnosing stages. I DO NOT have triple negative anymore! (Don’t Google my old diagnosis. You may cry.) I also should be meeting my oncology team on Friday to learn more about my treatment.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Madison: 1 Needles: 1

I would like to start a petition for a Lady Gaga channel for MRI’s. This morning during my shower, I was like okay IV’s suck but you know what? I get 22 minutes of uninterrupted Lady Gaga time during my MRI! Fuck yeah! But no. You get to select a channel of music type or genre. I was debating between top hits and the EDM channel and ultimately chose the EDM channel because what if too many sad top hits came on?

I regret not choosing the top hits. I hate EDM music that is too mainstream at this point or just… not enough bass. If I am not headbanging, my heart not racing, or my car not vibrating, I will just put on Adele.

Oooh an Adele channel would be great, too.

The MRI machine was SO loud. It reminded me of waking up behind a couch when I was like 19 after a party in someone’s apartment and I am hungover and someone’s alarm is going off and they are so passed out they don’t hear it. Someone turn off the damn alarm!

I regret that I misled my readers into thinking I would be the Madonna of MRI’s when in fact no cones were placed on my breasts today. We can blame my doctor for giving me a weird description that was not accurate haha. My MRI involved me laying on my stomach, similar in style to a massage table except your breasts are in gaps that make them free fall. But before I got on the table, I had to face my first needle. It sucked. As predicted, this would be the worst part of my day. My left arm could not produce what we needed, so I just started bleeding all over. They called for another nurse to come in and we had success with my right arm, but damn I fucking hated it. My nurses humored me as I chatted about dumb things to distract myself. My anxiety meds kicked in but I was not nearly out of it as I thought I would be. I felt like a normal human without anxiety at that point, yet my needle phobia still remained. Eff.

Crossing that hurdle was none the less satisfying. I did something hard today and I was okay! Yay! And then my doctor called to inform me of my updated diagnosis: invasive lobular carcinoma in stage 2 or stage 3a. At this point, I don’t know a ton other than my tumor does have estrogen receptors, and this diagnosis is more treatable. I will be meeting with my oncology team on Friday and I should have a clearer picture of treatment. I do know that this journey I am entering will be roughly a year long and will include chemotherapy, double mastectomy, radiation, and reconstruction surgery. I am trying not to be sad that this journey will be long, but I can’t help it. Which brings me to something really personal I wanted to share and I want to offer a trigger warning for folks who are sensitive to cancer and topics surrounding mental health and death.

Ready? Okay. Deep breaths.

When you say the word “scary” or “fear” or even “terrifying” what comes to your mind? There are no wrong answers and those answers vary from person to person, the season in your life, even context varies the response. Language at times can feel so casual. A single word can be the color for so many things. I’ve been struggling that these words in particular (scary, fear, terrifying) don’t fully encompass the depth of what I feel. They are just words. What I am feeling is incredibly dark. “Scary” went from thinking about scary movies to thinking about my own body creating cells that can kill me. My fears evolved into something unimaginable. I don’t feel like there is a word to fit what I am experiencing to fully explain to someone else.

Yesterday after my initial diagnosis, it was really hard not to feel like I would die. That this cancer, these tumors, could kill me. If you researched my initial diagnosis, it was a dark one. I want to be positive, I want to manifest that I will kick cancer to the curb no matter my diagnosis, but I want to be honest and say that thought was in my brain. I told my friend at work and cried. I don’t want to carry that feeling with me. And I am BLESSED BEYOND BELIEF that my diagnosis has changed and that feeling is just a beetle rummaging about that I encounter sometimes in thoughts now. My fear has lessened, but cancer is scary. I fully get it now. I wish I didn’t.

I have been in therapy on and off for about nine years now. I have general anxiety and a depressive disorder. I’ve been able to manage these with therapy and some awesome coping skills, and right now I am pretty healthy mentally. But I worry. I will continue therapy and I will ask for what I need when I feel the dark cloud setting in. I am no stranger to these clouds. But I don’t want these clouds to turn into disasters on top of my need to win this larger war.

Cancer is a dark experience. It can feel isolating. It wants to take from me all the things I love. And I am just simply not interested in that transaction. No deal. Not today, not tomorrow, not a year from now.

Okay that was a lot. I don’t want to end this post with something really emo that might keep you up at night so let’s end it with my song lyric of the day!

Today’s song lyric of course is brought to you by Lady Gaga because obio.

“I’m a bad kid and I will survive
One of the bad kids
Don’t know wrong from right”

– Bad Kids, Lady Gaga