The “Other” Trouble Child

Well folks, this is a big one, and one you’re probably not expecting.

I know I wasn’t when I went in on August 28th to look at my fertility preservation options.

So, let’s rewind here.

When your treatment plan involves any type of chemo and you are of child bearing age and don’t have children or a complete family, the doctors will point you towards fertility preservation. The chemotherapy does some pretty crazy things to the body and there is no guarantee of fertility after everything is said and done. So they recommend freezing eggs, embryos, or a combination of both prior to starting treatment.

I went in for this consultation in late August and the first step was an ultrasound to look at your ovarian follicles so they could get an estimate as to how many eggs could be retrieved in one round of IVF. I went in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the weekend after my 30th birthday where I had an amazing time tubing down the river in Lanesboro and spending it some of my closest friends.

After my ultrasound I knew the nurse was going to be giving me the rundown on the meds, how they work, and how/when to administer them. I had already ordered $2,000 worth of meds and they were en route to my house and was eager to move forward with this so I could start treatment with some reassurance in the back of my mind.

Well, when I sit down a doctor comes in and asks me if I have had any genetic testing done. I said yes, I had a 47 panel genetic test done and did not test positive for anything. He asked, “You don’t have the BRCA gene mutation?” I said, no. He then blurted out the news that …

“You have a solid mass on your right ovary.”

… and I absolutely lost it.

Then he started talking about getting a half hysterectomy and I just completely blacked out and disassociated from the conversation.

I went to this appointment by myself because I thought it was going to be strictly informational and I could relay the information back to Tim because he had already missed a lot of work with the other oncology visits. I wasn’t not expecting MORE bad news.

I was beyond myself. How? What? Why is this thing here? How did it get inside me? I already have another battle I’m fighting and didn’t need another one.

I was so upset and filled to the brim with information at this point that I just went home, Tim left a work dinner, and we immediately went for a bike ride to lift my spirits. You know it’s bad when I can’t even get out of the car at Trader Joe’s, one of my favorite spots to stop in Rochester when I’m in the area.

This news absolutely crushed me and traumatized me.

The next day I had a scheduled PET-scan, which my oncologist said we could do for peace of mind. Lucky for me, I really needed A LOT of peace of mind the next day.

Luckily, when I got the PET scan results back the thing in my ovary did not glow or light up, as cancerous things would. The radiologist team marked it as a “corpus luteal cyst”, but still this thing needed more follow up and we needed more information. I was told to wait for 6-8 weeks and do an MRI to see if it has gone away, shrunk in size, or gotten bigger.

So I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. It’s not very fun waiting when you have something scary inside of you that you don’t know what it is.

The day came to get the MRI and I went up to Owatonna, my lovely mama met me and we went out to breakfast at Perkins and on a walk afterwards to get my mind off of things. I got the results back that the “thing” the “other trouble child” indeed still existed and was still there in my ovary. Ugh.

After speaking with the team on what to do now they said I need to come in for a surgery consult, many people assured me this surgery likely wouldn’t take place until after my treatment is complete and I am done healing. So maybe sometime in March or April next year. Wow, I thought 6 weeks was bad enough to wait for the MRI, that’s definitely a long time to wait t find out what this thing is.

Prior to going in I did lots of bloodwork for tumor markers and all of it looked promising, which is good, another glimmer of hope I held on to besides the fact that it didn’t glow on the PET scan.

Tim and I went in for my surgery consult on Tuesday, November 7th and met with Dr. Glaser and her team. I had heard so many good things about her and she was truly lovely and so sweet. After discussion, we decided I was going into surgery the next day. She wanted to make absolute sure that this wasn’t the worst-case scenario 1) bad cells from the breast that had spread or a medium worst-case scenario that 2) this was ovarian bad cells because if so, my treatment plans would need to change significantly and my right ovary would need to be removed as well. I truly never felt my life was more at risk.

Everything happened so quickly as I prepped for surgery and called my mom to come down to help because Tim was headed to Chicago for work right after our consultation. Flying by the seat of our pants here!

Even though I was so nervous, I was so happy that the thing would be out of me in the next 24 hours and that I would have peace of mind of knowing what it was - for better or for worse. As Tim and I kept saying, “show us all your cards!”

My mom and I dropped off Mochi for a playdate and drove to Rochester for a 9am arrival time. We decided to valet our car, because I mean why not live life all out!? When life gives you lemons and you need a tumor-removal surgery on your ovary in the middle of breast cancer treatment, you valet your car at the hospital - I’m just sayin’.

There was a lot of prep, questions, and people asking me for my name and birthdate as we waited from about 9am-12:30pm. My mom and I prayed, cried, and sang to about two hours of of our favorite Christian praise music to lift our hearts and calm our minds. We even watched the cute Disney movie, Elemental.

Finally, they called me and brought me down to my prep room, I said my goodbyes to my mom and headed off on my journey. Here I thought I would start getting anesthesia but I only got Tylenol and waited some more and answered some more questions. This is where I finished the Elemental movie on my own.

I met with my doctor again, she held my hand and just sat with me and I wished her luck with everything. We always pray for steady hands and wisdom for our doctors!

Then I headed into the operating room where I said to the nurse “Why am I awake for this?” Haha. It was very sterile, bright, and creepy if you ask me. I was stone-cold sober with nothing but Tylenol in my system jumping from bed to operating table with people in head-to-toe gowns. I am definitely going to be knocked out for my next surgery, mark my words. Now I see why they make haunted houses with this theme. But all of the nurses were so sweet. One squeezed my arm, one helped me take deep breaths into the oxygen mask, and one let me know that she got up to speed on my story and that it was really touching to her how much I’ve been through this year already. I said, “Yup, my life has changed a lot since June.” It really has.

Then I took a little nap.

My mom got a text message one hour and 15 minutes after surgery had begun that surgery was wrapping up and I was headed to my first recovery room. She definitely thought that was promising considering if they had found something with bad cells they would have to remove my whole right ovary then and there. I had asked Dr. Glaser beforehand not to share the pathology results with my mom, but to share them with us together once she sees both of us afterwards.

In my first recovery room, I found incisions on both sides of my abdomen so I was convinced that I had a full hysterectomy. I was in and out of sleep and was trying to listen to the nurse’s conversations to get a clue as to what might of happened. I was in some pain that kind of felt like bad menstrual cramps but it was tolerable. Women are built for this stuff!

Then I went up to my second recovery room where I was reunited with my mom. And seconds later the doctor came rushing in and shared the best news I have received in a long time:

“So it was benign!!!!”

…. and we all cried and rejoiced and cheered like no other. I told her I was happier than on my wedding day to hear this news. It ended up being a sex cord strombol tumor. They are rare, but should never occur again. So I require no follow-up and am free to go! You have no idea how big of a relief this good news is, so thank you to everyone who prayed or thought of me on this day.

celebrating good news

My surgeon, Dr. Glaser and I with tears of pure happiness and relief!

My operation was laparoscopic so I had some healing to do but I am much better now and on the other side of things. I had four small incisions (one in my belly button) that I will start to treat with scar medication because they healed up very nicely.

Healing is always easier when you have good news to go with it 🙂

Xo, Breanna