Finding Out/The Biopsy

This is right before I left for my biopsy. Mom wanted a picture of the lump in my neck.


I was 26 the first time I found out I had cancer. I was living in an apartment by myself; well, me and my cat, Babykitty. I was a temp at a job that was about to turn permanent. When they offered me the job, it meant I would get health coverage. It was also my first office job. My mom was so excited, she took me to buy new clothes for work. I love shopping; (especially if someone else is paying). By the time we finally found three outfits, I was so tired, I could barely move. I had lost weight, and my clothes fit better. I was even able to go down a size from usual.

At work, I moved into a new cubicle, with more light, and more people around. I found myself wanting to sleep all the time, often falling asleep on my desk. I would go to the car on my lunch and pass out, sometimes even missing the alarm on my phone. Immediately upon returning home, I would fall into such a deep sleep that I didn't even notice my neighbor coming over to take my cat from around my neck while I slept. I would sleep until it was time to get up for work. I rarely ate, I would wake up drenched in sweat, as if someone poured buckets of water on me.

The apartment I lived in was covered top to bottom in fleas, thanks to my cat. My cat was a gift, and I loved her, but I couldn't afford to buy anything for her. I tried flea medications, powders, even flea bombs, but nothing kept the fleas at bay for long; she was an indoor cat. I had terrible itching on my chest and arms. I blamed the fleas. My cat loved to lay on my chest when I was sleeping and often pawed at the left side repeatedly. I thought it was sweet, if a bit irritating.

About a month after I was hired on permanently, my cousin was getting married. My mom took me to buy a dress and some cute clothes to wear while I was up visiting. It was around then I noticed the lump in my neck. It wasn't really apparent at first, just enough for me to notice that my necklaces were laying strangely. I mentioned this to my mom on her birthday when her sister and brother-in-law were there visiting. My dad agreed that if it hadn't gone away by the time I got back from the wedding, they would pay for me to see a doctor; my insurance hadn't kicked in yet.

My upstairs neighbor worked for a doctor's office and said that she could get me in to see her doctor, Dr. Don. After the wedding, I went in. Dr. Don knew I didn't have insurance, so they charged me the base fee of $50. She gave me some antibiotics just in case it may have been a sinus infection that had moved down to my neck and throat. If, after 10 days, it didn't go away, they would get me in for x-rays. By then, my insurance would have started.

So, I took my meds, and I partied with my new friends from work. When I came back, the lump had not gone away. My insurance had started. Dr. Don took x-rays and decided I needed to see a surgeon for a needle biopsy. I wasn't sure what that was, but she explained taking a needle and drawing the fluid out of the lump and analyzing it. I made my appointment with the surgeon.

Going in, the medical assistants behind the desk were not the nicest people in the world, which made me sweat a little. I always have and always will make jokes when I am nervous or uncomfortable; this was no different. I got called in to see Dr. Birman. He asked me questions about how tired I was, how much weight did I lose, where is this lump, etc. He felt my neck, pushing hard on my lump and said, "Yep, lymphoma. Follow me."

At that point in time, I had no idea what that meant. I didn't know that a disease with an "oma" at the end generally meant cancer. He didn't explain it, which scared me half to death right there. He had me follow him to the front desk, where he told the lady, "Schedule her for a biopsy on Friday." And walked away. I didn't see him again until I went to his office to discuss results with him. The lady behind the counter scheduled me for surgery, and pre-op testing. For several reasons, this response from the medical assistant and the doctor left me feeling cold and scared, even though I started sweating while standing there. I left and went back to work.

All the way back to work, I was freaking out inside my little car. I white-knuckled it the entire 25 minute drive. Repeating to myself, "I'm not ready to die, I'm not ready to die," I tried to keep myself from bursting into tears. Walking into the building, my face was white. I went to my desk and called my mother. While I was calling her, I looked up lymphoma on the Internet. The first one to appear was Non-Hodgkins. At that point in time, the survival rate was approximately 15%. Seeing this, I screamed, dropped the phone and started to sob.

Half the office heard this and came running. I was dragged outside while my co-worker, Kim called my mom to tell her that would be okay. I was finally calmed down enough to come back to work. They wanted to send me home, but I wouldn't listen. I hadn't worked this hard to get this job by calling in sick. The office got very quiet. Very quiet. I explained to my supervisor that I needed to have Friday off and she scheduled it for me. She also gave time off early to go to my pre-op appointment on Thursday.

I had planned to have a party on Friday night. I had sent out the email invites and everything. I had even pissed off a good friend of mine in the process, which was unfortunate; I had an immense crush on him, despite the fact he was now dating my upstairs neighbor. My parents had decided I would stay with them that night instead of having the party. Sadly, I sent out the cancellation email.

Going into surgery was an experience Other than having my wisdom teeth removed, I'd never had surgery. I was frightened, I had no idea what was going to happen, the room was cold, I was hot. I was shaky and I felt faint. I tried to smile the best I could at everyone, but it was difficult. My palms were sweaty and I was terribly uncomfortable in my hospital gown, hat and slippers. Since midnight the night before, I could not eat. Luckily, my surgery was scheduled for early the next morning. After we checked in and discussed all the financials with the accounting office, I was led to the pre-op room. I stayed in the pre-op room with my mom until they were ready for me, yet I could not relax. I just waited until a bed was available.

Once there was, a small Asian man came in and asked me questions. I know now that he was the anesthesiologist. One of the nurses came to stick a needle in my arm to administer the anesthesia and saline solution to avoid dehydration. My mom read to me from a Beatles trivia book so I wouldn't freak out too badly. I think they gave me something to help me relax, because I really did. Almost sleepy they moved me to a different part of the room, meaning I was next. One of the staff came by and pushed something into the bag hooked up to my arm, and I started to see the tiles on the wall move around, get bigger and smaller, move in lines. I remember telling my mom that I loved her and not to worry as they pushed me out of the room. I went down a hall and by the time I got to the OR I was asleep.

When I woke up, my throat was very sore and I was thirsty. I was also very drowsy and nearly above all, I wanted to fall back to sleep. Yet more than anything, I wanted my mother back with me. A blonde- haired lady came up and asked me how I was and I told her I was ok, tired, but I wanted my mom. She smiled and said, "Not yet, but soon." I was in recovery, where no one but the patients and nurses are allowed to be. I fell back to sleep. I found out later that there were no blonde nurses working that day at the hospital. We don't know who she was or what she was doing there, or if she was a hallucination. She was fondly referred to as "Jenny's Angel" by everyone in my family.

I was able to go home soon. I still hadn't eaten, but they did give me some juice. On the way home, I was in and out of grogginess. I really just wanted to go home. My parents had picked up my favorite ice cream for me, and mom would stop to get food from El Pollo Loco for me. I asked my mom, once we got in the car, how the surgery went. She told me that I had cancer. I said okay, and fell asleep. I guess a lot of family and friends called that night, but i was pretty out of it from all the meds they had given me. Several people in my family had sent me flowers as a good luck. The people at my work felt terrible, but I wouldn't able to see any of them until Monday.

I had made arrangements with my upstairs neighbor to take care of my cat, so I just sat back, and relaxed for about an hour before I slept the whole night. The real fun would come later.