Welcome to My Life as of Late

  Good Afternoon, All!  My apologies for not posting in a REALLY long time.  For those of you who are curious as to what has happened to me, keep reading.  For those of you who could care less, abandon ship because I am about to give a fairly lengthy explanation.
  For starters,  I have been stressed out in nearly every aspect of my life.  Consequently, I received stress-induced writer's block, if there is such a thing.  I really could not focus or find the motivation or inspiration to share wonderful things with you.  I mean, let's face it, my life hasn't exactly been terrible lately.  A lot of really great things have happened that I wish I could have shared with you in the moment, but frankly, I was just mentally checked-out.
  Maybe a huge part of my stress derived from the fact that I knew I would be getting surgery soon.  Are you shocked yet?  I have been keeping my problem a semi-secret for a long time.  It just wasn't something I felt like I wanted or needed to broadcast, but if it ever came up, I was open to discussing it with others.  Basically, I had a tumor.  Wait, let me emphasize "had" because I received surgery this last Tuesday, April 3rd.  Maybe the reason why I didn't want to dispel all the details about my lump is because most people do not take too kindly when they hear the word "tumor".  EVER SINGLE TIME I got asked if it was cancerous, which I suppose is nice that those who asked showed concern, but I felt like it always garnered a lot of negative attention or made people feel uneasy even though it was always benign.
  Ok ok ok, hold on, let me give you the whole background story first.  Let's retract to December 2009.  I had just come home from college at Cal Poly SLO for Christmas break.  I was taking a shower one evening when I felt a lump in my left breast.  Naturally, I had a plethora of thoughts cross my mind, and I didn't know which one to start with first.  I had to check to make sure I felt it correctly and that my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.  I checked for the lump in the shower, out of the shower, in the mirror, and everyday that entire break.  It finally hit me that I indeed did have some sort of growth, and that it probably wasn't a good thing.  Too scared to say anything or to start really freaking out, I decided to do my own research first.  I looked online for any reputable sites that could give me some sort of clue as to what was going on with my body.
  Alas, I had found a site that gave descriptions of all kinds of breast lumps.  It said things like if it felt rubbery it could be a cyst, or if it felt solid and moved around it could be an adenoma, or if it had puckering and dimples like a golf ball...it could be cancer.  Mine definitely felt solid and about the size of a large marble, maybe a little smaller.  It felt like it was movable, so I decided that it was most likely a fibroadenoma.  I googled fibroadenomas for hours that night, and all the descriptions seemed to fit, but I couldn't be certain until I talked to someone.
  The first person I told was my boyfriend at the time, who then told his mother because she has once dealt with similar issues.  Both were really supportive and comforting.  They gave me the courage to tell my parents and seek medical help.  I remember the night I told my dad.  I was probably the most scared I had felt in a really long time.  This sounds really dramatic, but everything was so raw and overwhelming that I couldn't help but be really emotional.  I don't know why, but I remembered I wanted to cry, but I didn't because I don't like to cry in front of my family.  Crying was always so embarrassing and I felt like it showed weakness, so the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of my father.
  It was really late the night that I decided to tell my dad.  My mom was already asleep and my boyfriend was upstairs in my room going over what I should say.  I went downstairs and sat on the couch with my dad not next to him, but on the other side, looking straight ahead.  It was really awkward for me to spill the beans because my dad is such a jokester and it doesn't feel natural for me to have such serious talks with him.  More than a mumble, I let him know and his reaction was not what I was expecting.  He didn't show very much emotion, but instead asked if I had told Mom and said that I should get it checked out.  Good talk.  It was time for me to run back upstairs.
  The next morning my mom approached me about the subject.  I was relieved that I didn't have to tell her and that she seemed ready to help me take action because I didn't know how much longer I could go dealing with this on my own.  She scheduled my doctor appointment and within that month I had seen my physician as well as gotten an ultrasound and biopsy.  I remember asking the radiologist if it was a fibroadenoma, and thank goodness she said something along the lines of, "Why yes it is!"
  That was all four years ago.  I had constantly monitored my tumor since then and gone to the doctor a few times to see if there were any changes.  It wasn't until this past year that I noticed a small change: a dent in my tumor.  I knew that when lumps like this change shape, it usually isn't a good sign.  I had been living in Washington at the time, but my mom convinced me to come home.  I was finally ready to do something about all of this.
  This whole year of 2012 has been a whirlwind of seeing doctors.  Getting exams by all kinds of doctors whom I had never met before.  Getting ultrasounds and speaking to radiologists and breast specialists.  I knew that I wanted to get my tumor removed even though it wasn't exactly necessary.  It had been four years of constantly keeping it in the back of my mind.  Four years of seeing that bump protrude from my chest.  Four years of having to watch what I eat and do since certain things like hormones and caffeine can really affect the fibroadenoma.  There were days were it would be sore and tender, sometimes a slight shooting pain, other times it was fine.  There were countless nights spent doing research and looking up possible remedies, but it always came down to me dealing with the tumor for the rest of my life, or having it removed.
  The last time I had seen the radiologist, she said that my tumor had grown and advised surgery.  One of the things that made me nervous was the fact that the surgeon I would have to go to worked in the cancer center.  My operation does not become a priority when there are those with breast cancer waiting in line, so I feared that it would take forever for me to get surgery.  After I got my final referral I received good news that I could get my surgery...this year...like within a few weeks...over my spring break!  Was this a dream come true?  Not only would I have to worry about missing school, I was going to be done with all of this sooner than I thought.
  My surgery date was April 3.  There were a lot of things that made me nervous, but none of which were the actual procedure itself.  I was nervous when they had to draw my blood.  I am already anemic, so losing blood makes me EXTRA lightheaded and woozy.  Also, my first surgery ever was not very successful.  It was one of the most painful experiences ever that haunts me all the time.  I'm not a particularly squeamish person...when it comes to other people.  Stick a needle or a knife in me, however, and I just get flashbacks of that surgery where I only received a local and...let's just say that not everything that should have been numb was.
  Anyway, another thing that had me nervous was that my surgery had the possibility of getting canceled.  The anesthesiologists are pretty strict about the health of their patients before they administer anything.  Even a cold, like what I had, could cause them to cancel the operation.  The day before my surgery I did all I could to get better.  I still had a cough the day I had my surgery, but it didn't stop them.  Yes!!!  It was decided that instead of a breathing tube, I would only need a general anesthetic and a local at the site.  Of course I was hesitant with that option at first since I am now fully opposed to locals, but they assured me that I would not wake up too early or feel anything.
  The last thing that really got my heart pounding was the IV.  The first time my preop nurse tried, the needle blew out!  She decided to try on my other hand, but my veins were even thinner, so it was back to my right hand.  At this point, it felt like she had been trying for an hour to get that IV in, and I was definitely shaking like a puppy at the vet.  Once again, I was near tears, but I had my mom to calm me down and tell me to breathe.  Not my strongest moment, but how would you have felt in that situation?  Cut me some slack! :)
  Finally the IV was in, I had met my team, and the anesthetics were starting to kick in.  Apparently I was very giddy and incurred a strong southern accent shouting "I FEEL IT WORKING NOW!" as they wheeled me down the hall into the operating room.  The last things I remember were moving from the bed onto the operating table and having a curtain draped in front of my face.  Everything after that was dark and nonexistent until I woke up.
  When I woke up, fear immediately struck me because I was in the operating room still.  I thought they were still working on me, and I was just waiting for the immense pain to kick in.  I heard the doctors say something about being finished, however, so I asked if I could see my tumor.  Unfortunately, they had already sent it off to the pathologist.  Coming out into the recovery room, I realized that I was sore...really sore, but it was bearable.  It turns out that the tumor had attached to my chest wall (which is more understandable since I have such a small chest), so they had to remove some of my muscle as well.  I couldn't believe that they had finished the operation so quickly.  I was in the hospital for about five hours total, but the actual procedure took maybe an hour and a half.  I had woken up before the sun to get to the hospital and had been there for so long that I was just ready to go home.
  Here I am today, four days after my operation.  We all still think the tumor was just a fibroadenoma, but we won't know definitely until my lab results come back.  I should find out next week at my check-up appointment.  I must say that I have been recovering fairly quickly.  The first day I could hardly move, especially not my left arm.  The second day was still rough, but I was able to go to the gym with my mom and just work on my legs for a little bit.  Everyday I have felt better, not by just a small amount, but exponentially!  Today, I could bathe myself on my own, lift up both arms, and get dressed and walk around with great ease.  School starts up again on Monday, and I am fairly confident that I will be in good shape, even though I'm still not supposed to life more that 15 pounds for a few weeks.
  Well, that's where I have been, guys.  For some of you, this is a lot of new information to take in.  I have some final thoughts I'd like to leave you all with - some things that I have learned from this journey.  First, though, I would like to show my appreciation and thank all of you who have been such a huge support during this time in my life.  Even if you were just there for my to rant briefly, believe me, it helped so much.  Now for my tips:  I can't emphasize how important it is for not just women, but men also to always do self-exams.  Know your body!!!  Don't underestimate the little things.  I was lucky enough to have a benign tumor, but there are others who are not.  Get rid of these things as early as you can because it could really save you in the long run.  Also, do not feel like you need to have pride with these kinds of situations.  I think that talking about this sort of thing is healthy.  Not only is it an outlet for you, but you will find that support is important.  You shouldn't have to go through these kinds of things alone.  Talking about it will also increase awareness and allows you to become more educated, which is always a good thing.  If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to let me know!