Throughout the nearly 3 weeks it took to get pathology results back, my HCG levels dropped to 46.6. I saw my doctor for a post-op appointment on October 7th where she informed me she had consulted with an oncologist at UVA to make sure there was nothing we should be doing while we waited for the results (there wasn’t) and that she was OK waiting for my results since my HCG was dropping (albeit very slowly).
The next day, she called me and said my HCG had gone back up to 66.6 and my results were in. They had been sent to the Mayo clinic for additional testing (scary) and as I stepped outside of my office, I took a deep breath as I listened to the doctor tell me news that was utterly terrifying and shocking, while at the same time, completely unsurprising and almost validating. She explained that the results indicated a Placental Site Trophoblastic Tumor. She went on to explain that a certain percentage of these tumors are cancerous and some are not (which I now know from my oncologist to be untrue – they are all cancerous if that’s what is diagnosed). We discussed how it was very likely we caught this early since I had been vigilantly testing for pregnancy while on Accutane and that the oncologist she had already spoken to about my case would be in touch that day to get me in as soon as possible. And then we hung up. And I sat on a picnic table outside my office and replayed the conversation in my head. I looked at the notes I had taken and tried to understand what she had just told me. And then the vortex of thoughts started, some more rational than others.
“So, do I have cancer?… What’s going to happen next?… I knew I wasn’t pregnant, I knew this had to be something else… What the fuck?… How did this happen?… Should I go back inside or should I go home?… If I go home, won’t I just stress about work and get behind since it’s one of the busiest weeks all year?… Will I have to have chemo?…Will I lose my hair?… Will we be able to have another baby?… I’m really scared… Crap, now I’m crying alone at a picnic table at work… Also, it’s kind of cold out here… I wonder how many people have noticed this weird crying, shivering girl at the picnic table… I should probably call Mason and let him know what’s going on… I wonder if he’s having a busy day at work… I hope this doesn’t stress him out too much… OK, I’ll call Mason”. Welcome to my brain 😊 It’s a scary place on a good day, and this was not a good day.
I called Mason and told him exactly what the doctor had told me. I waited for him to come unhinged, but he never did. He stayed completely calm and kept me pretty calm in the process. We decided it was probably best for me to go back into work in case the doctor’s office called so that I would already be close to the cancer center. So, I did. I went to the bathroom and tried to make myself look somewhat presentable. I updated my boss and told her if the doctor’s office called, I would just need to go. She and a few other colleagues were in the trenches with me on this journey and kept me sane at work as I ran back and forth to labs, hospitals, and doctor’s appointments for two months. I am eternally grateful to them for their discretion, words of encouragement, and shoulders to cry on through this diagnosis. And then I just finished answering the same email I was working on before my doctor called – as if the conversation hadn’t even happened. It was completely surreal.
Life One Step At A Time 