Sorry for the staging change. That was my stage as well.
Good luck with the upcoming procedure. It sounds like you found a good support group. I’m glad you had company at the appointment.
Let us know if we can send care packages. I bake a mean chocolate cookie. In the meantime, {{{hugs}}}.
My biggest fear right now is that the second operation won’t show clear margins either 
, even though I know they do about 90% of the time.
It’s hard to keep one’s equilibrium though this process. Keep doing what you’ve been doing to get through!
If they don’t get it all this time, the good news is that they are checking for it, and will know they have to try again. You did catch it early and it sounds like you’ve got a good team. It sucks that you’re having to go a couple of rounds at getting it out, but it’s good that they can find out.
nearwildheaven, stage 2 is still considered early stage. If you want to focus on a number, focus on the fact that the odds are still overwhelmingly in your favor if you follow the recommended treatment plan.
Besides, a large, slow-growing tumor is much better than a small, aggressive tumor. So try to relax and have faith in your team. And die, cancer, die!
In my case, it’s not that I had a golfball-sized tumor in my breast, but instead, a pencil-eraser-sized tumor that had a long, nasty tentacle. Someone on another site, one for BC patients no less, asked me if it resembled Cthulu (or however that’s spelled). I’m not much of a fantasy reader, but I do know what Cthulu is, and I said, “I hope there’s only one.”
I saw a You Tube video where a breast surgeon talked about DCIS and re-excisions, and I felt that he was talking to me, about me. 
It was very comforting.
And a small, slow-growing tumor is even better, especially if it’s not in my body anymore. :o
Yes. My surgeon called my IDC “indolent,” which I thought was fine news.
It was quite the relief when my scans came back “unremarkable.” Ivylad and I had quite the giggle over that.
I had the lumpectomy and had to go back in for a re-excision because, as my surgeon said, he doesn’t have microscopes for eyeballs. Keep fighting the good fight.
Thanks. 
I’m looking forward to Tuesday being over, and dreading the results. :o
Hugs, my dear. We’re here.
This. First of all, all of my thoughts of healing and hopes for a positive outcome !!
I’m a 55 year old man- but the quote up there shook me hard for a moment. 30 years ago, deep in Infertility Nightmare, my Ex and I signed up for a weekend of workshops being given by what was at the time a large and well-known Infertility Support organization.
We sat through the first 1 hour “workshop” and walked out half way through the second. What we sought was information, not endless hours of witnessing the jagged sobbing-filled sharing of story after story after story. We were living it. We didn’t need to be drowned in other people’s similar ( and in some cases more brutal ) versions. It wasn’t that we were insensitive to the people. It just gave us zero solace- and in fact was very upsetting- to bear witness to ad nauseum. YMMV.
You’re a smart person. You’ll know when to seek out support from groups of strangers opposed to family/ friends/ Dopers.
I got home from excision #2 a little over an hour ago. 
No nausea, not much pain, but this time I’m loopier than I was before. The surgeon also feels confident that it’s probably all gone, but of course the pathologist will have the final say.
I saw the radiation oncologist yesterday, and she said that I appear to be a candidate for a 4-week radiation protocol - 16 treatments to the whole breast and surrounding tissue, which includes the underlying muscles, and 4 boost treatments at the end to the area with the cancer. I also have an appointment next week with the oncologist, and while of course we’ll all have to have all the information first, it’s looking unlikely that I’ll need chemo. 
It does appear that I will probably take hormone blockers (which one remains to be seen) for at least 5 years.
So, that’s my current status.
I’m glad you’re through the excision. Hoping chemo isn’t necessary.
Here’s hoping the results come back “unremarkable”.
All that sounds pretty standard. Which is good; it’s double unfun to be the “special patient” with the “interesting case”.
The fact you’re eligible for the hormone blocker treatment is extra good news. Even if it’s not exactly new news.
I don’t recall how old you are or where you are vs. menopause, but if you’re not naturally past that event already, you’re about to get a crash engagement with “the change of life”. Which isn’t great fun, but is a lot more tolerable if you and any people close to you are expecting it. It may have you wanting to tear your hair out some days, but at least it won’t be falling out.
Hugs.
The most supportive and encouraging people I’ve encountered so far were not the ones who said “You’ll be fine” although that’s always nice to hear; they’re the ones who have said, “It’s OK to be angry and frustrated sometimes.” As of now, I’m not interested in a separate support group but that might change later on.
I read somewhere a while back about a woman who, after giving birth to a child with Down Syndrome, went to a meeting of the local DS support group. Pretty much the first question she was asked when she walked in the door was, “Are you married?” She replied, “Yes” and the other people there said, “You won’t be for long.” :rolleyes: Her thought was, “And this is a SUPPORT group?” Many years later, as she wrote that story, she and her husband were indeed still married. So much for that.
The one couple I can think of who had a DS child who split up almost immediately would have done so anyway; the husband was a rebound relationship and it was one of those cases where she finally realized, after firing multiple lawyers, that she eliminated any chance of getting a fair divorce settlement when she married the loser in the first place. :eek: One lawyer actually told her, “I’m not sure who’s more retarded - your daughter, or you for marrying her father in the first place.” :smack:
I’m using Tylenol and an ice pack for the pain, and look forward to this evening when I can shower and remove the bandages.
I decided to wait until this morning to remove my bandages. Things look MUCH better than they did last time, and honestly, I really don’t care what my breast looks like as long as it has no cancer in it.
I meet with the oncologist next Wednesday.
How are you feeling?