Wednesday, February 12, 2014 (part 1)
I knew it was going to be bad news when the doctor, who delivered my babies, left me a voice mail asking me to call him on his cell phone. I called him as soon as I could get to a quiet spot. I was home from work and my boys were a bit rambunctious that night.
“Well, it’s not good news,” my doctor said once we had completed the pleasantries. I responded that I thought it might not be good. “You have Mucinous Carcinoma.” I couldn’t quite hear him. Did he say mucinous? What is that? How do you spell it? He said words like: invasive, rare, 3%, colloid. I was trying not to cry. I was trying to take notes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be the Syringomatous Adenoma I had in my twenties. Just a quick surgery and I was on my merry way. What was I supposed to do now?
After talking with my doctor for about 10 minutes, he agreed to help me find a general surgeon that he trusted and call me by 10 the next morning. I quickly put myself back together and jumped in the car with the boys to go pick up my daughter from her dance and tumbling classes. We made it just as her tumbling class was ending. I picked up McDonald’s for the kids which kept them busy while I Googled my new words: Mucinous (Colloid) Carcinoma of the Breast.