An explanation...

Why Foob? I had a double mastectomy, and at the time, the plastic surgeon put "expanders" under the muscles in my chest. Every 2-3 weeks, they were filled with more saline, in preparation for my reconstructive surgery. They were very full and hard. Uncomfortable. One time, one of my sons gave me a hug and then said "Your foobs are hard!" Hee, hee, hee! My kids have this endearing habit of combining words. So, "Foobs" are fake boobs. Which I will still have, even after the reconstruction.

Foob Babe - that would be me!
"The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next." ~Mignon McLaughlin


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Wednesday, July 29, 2009

My First Biopsy - August 15, 2008

My first biopsy was a needle-guided biopsy. I went to the same place in the hospital where I went to get my mammograms. I changed into a hospital gown and the nurses led me into the mammogram room. The radiologist came in to insert the needle. I have to admit, I was scared. I really am quite a baby when it comes to being stuck with a needle. I would seriously rather have the flu, than get a flu shot!

The doctor numbed the area where he would be putting the needle. That really hurt. It stung. Then, because he needed to see where the white spots were – so he could put the needle in the correct place – they put me back in to the mammogram clamps. It was painful and I was scared. I remember the nurses being so nice, calling me honey, and trying to help me calm down. When I was clamped in pretty tight, they told me not to move (yeah, right) and the doctor put the needle into my left breast. It looked to me like the needle was about 8 inches long, but they really tried to get me to not look. In reality, there was a normal sized needle and then a long piece of metal attached to the end. The needle was pushed all the way into my breast – right to the part that had the DCIS-looking spots. The metal part was left hanging out of my chest. I made it through that part without getting up and running, screaming, out of the hospital. But, probably only because I had a hospital gown on and I would have looked ridiculous. The nurses were all worried about the metal sticking out of my breast, so they were trying to cover it up with gauze. You can imagine, I’m sure, how hard that would be. I kept telling them to just leave it alone – I really didn’t care if anyone saw the stupid piece of metal sticking out. I was really worried that if they kept touching it, it would move and I’d have to go through the placement all over again. I got kind of angry with them, asking them if it was me they were worried about, or everyone else in the hospital having to see it!

Rick and I were led into a holding room and we were told it wouldn’t be much longer before the surgery. Several hours later, I was still waiting there, with the needle sticking out of my boob, and all the numbing had worn off. I was in pain and tired and stressed. Rick was mad. Finally, the surgeon came in and let me know what they would be doing. The anesthesiologist came in to talk to me and put my IV in (another of my “favorite” things!). When I was ready, they wheeled me away and I don’t remember anything after that.

Rick brought me home and I remember looking at the scar with all the stitches. It looked like the shape of a half-moon. Then, the waiting began. Did I have cancer? Rick and I didn’t think so. It was just too preposterous to believe.

1 comment:

  1. Kara, yes it would be preposterous ... we're thinking positively.