Shitty

Last night the Dr called with the pathology report. The margins were not clear, original tumor actually 5.4 cm (size of lime, which puts me squarely in stage 3) plus 3 out of 6 lymph nodes were cancerous and bottom line, more surgery next Tuesday. I’ve had it. I know everything looked great and apparently after surgery, all looked well. But the way Ibrance works is it makes tumors smaller but in an overall sense, if you will. Instead of the whole mass shrinking (like a balloon losing air), its more like swiss cheese, where pockets dissolve. So, tumor is smaller but may take up a larger space.

When pathologists get a look, they can see more microscopically and, thus, the news last night.

First I broke down. Then like an idiot, I looked all this up. There’s a chart on a breast cancer site which shows your chances of BEING ALIVE in 5 years. According to this new wonderful info, I have a 63% chance which threw me in a tailspin. WTF. Then poor old Sam comes home and Im like a blubbering idiot. Then I proceeded to drink an entire bottle of wine, a bag of potato chips and have the worst night sleep ever.

In the light of day, I know I have 2 hospitals behind me, great doctors and, of course my wonderful friends and family. Its terrifying but, as usual, Ill get through it. Im prepared to beat the 63%. Im ready for this to be over.

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