Unknown Unknowns to Known Unknowns

The journey from knowing something’s amiss to finally knowing that it’s cancer is an arduous one. Today I want to take you through this ten day journey that I went through. Those ten days that flew by so quick back then were in hindsight life-altering.

There are several stages to be crossed before you can be sure of the verdict. Mine started with a visit to the gynaecologist. I wanted her to tell me that the lump that I was feeling was nothing; rather she told me to get a sonography and also some routine tests (CBC, Sugar, and Thyroid) done. She also suggested getting a pap smear done to understand the health of my cervix.  In addition to this, she noticed that the outer covering of my nipple was cracked and there was a discharge when you pressed it. Thankfully, she had the good sense to also send this fluid for further analysis.

Thus began the endless rounds of visits to the hospital and diagnostic centre for me. I went for my sonography. My sonographer asked me a number of questions on whether my breast hurts, whether I fell on it, or if anyone had hurt me in that area, or whether I had a family history of breast cancer. My replies to almost all of her questions were in the negative. She wasn’t too happy with this and recommended a biopsy of my left breast. This was the first inkling I got that something was seriously wrong.

Luckily I had an appointment for the pap smear with my gynaecologist right after the sonography. I happened to mention to her that my sonographer didn’t look pleased. It seemed like alarm bells rang in her head then. She asked me to immediately meet the oncologist and personally called him then and there to book an appointment for later that day.  All this was happening too fast for me to process any of it. I still thought (hoped, really) that all this would point to nothing.

Later that day, I met the oncologist who physically examined me and saw my sonography report. He felt the sonography images weren’t sharp enough and wanted better pictures.  It was now his turn to rush me to the next doctor (a radiologist this time) for sono-mammography. For the second time that day, I saw a doctor get in touch with his colleague right in front of me explaining my case. He was told that they were closing for the day. He insisted that they hold on for a while longer so that I could get a consult and tests done that day itself.  By this point, having met two doctors and after two long sonography sessions, I was exhausted. I still didn’t know what to make of the urgency of all of these fine medical professionals. I felt may be I have chanced upon a very efficient lot.

I went to the radiologist’s office, got done with this set of tests and proceeded to have a word with her. She’d just had a phone call with my oncologist and reported her findings to him. I asked her the only question that came to my mind then, “Does it look too bad?” and she said “Yes”. Even now, when I recollect, I feel I saw a hint of tears in her eyes. She bid me goodbye saying “We have seen many survivors in this hospital”. That sent shivers down my spine. It suddenly dawned upon me that this was ‘serious shit’.

As I look back, I feel the diagnosis of cancer is the most layered that I have encountered so far. Even after this episode with the radiologist, I was told by all of the doctors that nothing can be said with certainty until the biopsy. Along with the biopsy, the oncologist now also wanted me to get diagnostic tests done for every possible organ in my body.

Luckily, a week before all this mayhem I had picked up “A Suitable Boy” which happens to be the longest novel ever published in the English Language.  I was spending far more time in the hospital than at home then and Mr. Seth was great company (He still is. I think I’m going to rename this book as Cancer Book 1).

The biopsy reports came in a day later, and confirmed everyone’s fears (everyone here is doctors and two others who knew what I’d been up to for the previous few days).

I then also had to get a PET scan done as the last screening to verify if these unwelcome guests in my body were sitting anywhere else. Fortunately they weren’t.   

Nevertheless these various reports indicated that my cancer was fast growing and my doctor wasn’t comfortable waiting too long to act. So my surgery happened within a week of my last test. I’m still recuperating. The next stage (chemo) won’t begin until I’ve completely recovered from the surgery.

I have an appointment with the Rockstar (this is what everyone now calls my oncologist because of his towering presence and flying visits) in a bit. I received my path report (This report is prepared post-surgery and has essential information on the tumour, nature of cancer cells, and many other details) just last weekend. I would be discussing the report and the further course of action (Fingers crossed) with him.

In my next post, I plan to write in detail about my diagnosis and course of action. Everything about cancer is laden with jargon which I had to painstakingly deconstruct to make better sense of reports and diagnosis. I would be glad to share this with readers of my blog.

Stay happy!

A!

I Don’t Want To Be Your Hero

I am a huge fan of Bengali Cinema. One of the movies that have stayed with me is Dahan by Rituparno Ghosh.  You can read about it here.

http://www.filmimpressions.com/home/2011/08/dvd-review-dahan-1997.html.

This film is a searing indictment of a callous society that stands by and watches a woman being molested. The victim is bravely saved by another woman who is quickly hailed as a hero by the media but later becomes a victim herself. I particularly remember this scene between the ‘saviour’ and her grandmother that hit me like a ton of bricks. Buoyant with the adulation that she’s been getting everywhere, she visits her grandmother expecting her to praise her actions too. When her grandmother doesn’t say anything, she asks her whether she is proud of what she did. The grandmother observes that helping another person in need was what was expected of her, further questioning whether in our society cowardice or wrongful action has become the new normal.

The readers of my blog must be wondering what the connection between the above excerpt and my cancer is. The funny thing about a disease like cancer is that it no longer remains your business. It’s not a flu that you can quietly sleep off. Irrespective of how protective I am of my privacy, I had to share this news with almost everyone around me. The social scientist in me observes with mild amusement the varied reactions I’ve received from people. It’s been panic, disbelief, fear, pity, and even denial. Another consistent message that I’ve been getting is how I’m handling all this courageously and how brave/resilient I am.

I clearly remember the day my doctor said to me that this was cancer. I’m not sure there was any other way to have dealt with this than to accept it and do what needs to be done. I did not choose to be heroic or courageous about it. I can understand why everyone around me is seeing this from that lens or have been sending me messages to fight it out. Cancer still is a very big deal. It is one of those ailments that modern medicine has few answers to. I guess that’s the reason it scares us all. So someone dealing with it ‘normally’ automatically becomes feisty.

It is heartening to see so many people rooting for me. Every time I open my Facebook page, there is a new message of prayer, encouragement or love. My only fear is about those days when I would not want to be graceful and in control about my disease. When I would want to wallow in self-pity and scream “Why me?”. Why is it that that I’m allowed to feel and behave like a sick puppy if I have malaria, or jaundice or the flu and not cancer?

Is it that the heroic celebration of cancer patients is more a reflection of our collective fears of this disease? There are days I do feel burdened with all these expectations. I’ve not had the time or the space yet to understand what I really feel about what’s happening. I’m busy being brave for my doctors, family and friends.

I guess it’s as much a journey for me as for people around. Maybe as we trudge along this path, we can all think and reflect why we feel what we feel. And hopefully towards the end we’ll all be a little wiser. I will share that evolution with you in the hope that it can help someone else. 

A!

P.S: The song that I oh so adore and also is the title of this post.

Let's Talk about Breasts

Being detected with Breast Cancer at 30 can leave you pretty perplexed. I kept asking my doctors and technicians if they see many people of my age. They said they are noticing an ever increasing incidence of young girls with carcinogenic lumps. I asked them if they know the reason for such a surge. Some said that if they knew, they’d have done something about it; most looked helpless though. Unanswered questions are like shadows, they may not be seen sometimes but they never leave your side. Every now and then my mind does wander to a possible cause of the disease. 

I hope to get to my answers sooner or later, but for now I want write about how we can keep a keen eye on our own precious little boobs. 

1. Do not shy away from touching/feeling/fondling thyself. There is really no other way of knowing this. 

2. Like I mentioned in my earlier post, dense breasts are a common phenomenon. Every lump or hardness will not mean something earth shattering. One must be aware of these and keep monitoring them for any changes in hardness/size/location. 

3. Find a good gynaecologist and make friends with her. I feel the disappearance of the ‘family doctor’ in des is the saddest thing to have happened to us in recent times. Since all of us have become so mobile, often we don't have that one person who knows our bodies, our ailments and our quirks. Spend some time in finding a gynaecologist that you feel comfortable with. Don't just rely on people's recommendations. Meet them and if you still feel unsure keep the search on. My constant shifting cities/countries in the last 7-8 years never allowed me the luxury of a doctor that I went consistently too. I think it could’ve helped because my doctor would’ve known my history with fibroadenoma and may have insisted on regular breast examinations. 

4. Keep your reports safely. I guess the best way is to scan it and email it to yourself. These days most diagnostics send an e-copy of the report. Make a folder of your medical records and store your reports. Monitoring lumps and nodes is all about having a reference. How many? Have they grown in size? Have they appeared someplace else? Is there a textural difference in what you felt earlier and now? All this may sound scary, but I think once you are aware of your own internal geography, it will give you more peace than any medical report will.

5, Watch out for any discharge from the nipples. That was one question I was asked by all my doctors. If there is some discharge oozing out of your breast, talk to your gynaec about it. Doctors are not generally too concerned with the kind of discharge that happens when you press the nipple.

6. Avoid getting all your answers from Google. It has become a common practice amongst us to search for our symptoms online and read about it. If it was that simple, wouldn’t we all be doctors? Based on the kind of person you are, you will either freak out or feel it's nothing. Do speak to an expert about your concerns. Don't fret thinking your queries are stupid or you would be wasting your doctor's time.

7. Lastly, there is really nothing to freak about. There are far far greater chances of it being nothing than it being anything. So rejoice in knowing and being observant.

Till we meet next.

A!

How It All Started

Food is right at the centre of my universe. Not just how it satisfies my gluttonous soul, but also how it is so integral to our wellness. I am a borderline health fanatic, try and stick to all things organic, don`t consume fizzy drinks, hate fast food and love to cook at home. I am by and large a healthy person and am quite vigilant about my health.

Two years back, I felt a certain hardness in both my breasts. It alarmed me and I immediately rushed to a gynaecologist. She suggested a sonography and some tests. A little concerned with the outcome of the tests, she further suggested a mammogram. To everyone’s relief, those ‘nodes’ (as I later learned they were called) turned out to be nothing more than fibroadenoma. Fibroadenoma of the breast are noncancerous tumors composed of fibrous and glandular tissues. You can read more about it here

(https://www.breastcancercare.org.uk/information-support/have-i-got-breast-cancer/benign-breast-conditions/fibroadenoma).

Being the sceptic that I am, I wanted a second and possibly even a third opinion. I consulted with the HOD of Gynaecology in a prestigious hospital in Mumbai. She literally chided me saying almost every woman has something or the other like this and that my first doctor was stupid to suggest a mammogram at such a young age (I was 28 then). Back then I was relieved to hear this. In hindsight though, it was probably the worst thing to have happened to me. The indifference of such a highly recommended doctor made me nonchalant about these residents of my breast.

I therefore did not follow up with the routine sonography last year. I was moving to Canada then and that occupied all my mind space. At the beginning of 2015, I felt a certain hardness on the lower side of my left breast. I was in Canada at the time and accessing doctors there is quite a headache. Anyways I was mighty sure that once again it would turn out to be nothing and I would be shooed away by my doctor.

Due to some unexpected turn of events, I landed in India this summer. I happen to reside a stone’s throw away from a renowned hospital. So I felt it wouldn’t be too inconvenient for me to undertake this drill of doctor visits again. I met this new gynaecologist, told her about why I was there and also added a few lines about how I feel it’s nothing. She suggested I go for a sonography and to, I guess, set me at ease, said it may just be some fat deposit. 

As you all may have guessed, it was not nothing this time around. It wasn't just a fat deposit but carcinoma of the left breast that had spread to the lymph nodes. What makes this whole episode even more bizarre is that I am 30 and very healthy for my age. I have no other co morbidity and there is no history of cancer (breast or cervical) in my immediate family.

Through this blog, I intend to document my experience of making sense of this disease. I’m also quite aware of the limitations of modern medicines and would be looking at ways to supplement my treatment naturally. I hope to find like-minded people through this blog and spread awareness about this crazy disease and its wonky ways. 

A!