I'm 36 years old and live in the American midwest. I'm a nurse, currently working in community health as a medicare/medicaid case manager helping members navigate the labyrinth of their insurance and find doctors when they need them.
That said, I should have known better. I had painless rectal bleeding for a few months before I finally got it checked out. My doctor referred me to a colo-rectal doctor immediately and I was booked for a colonoscopy. Unfortunately, due to my history of gastric bypass last year, I couldn't drink the prep as fast as I needed to and my bowel prep was sub-optimal. She didn't see the mass, but thought she saw bleeding hemorrhoids. She referred me to another doctor in her practice who does the newest surgery for hemorrhoids. The prep for that was back to back fleets enemas, and she found the mass in my rectum while exploring prior to the surgery. Sooo...instead of a surgery, I got a biopsy, lab orders, and various scan orders. I got to wake up from sedation to 'We found a mass in your rectal area, call in one week for biopsy results.'.
Both of the colo-rectal doctors have been nothing short of amazing, they've both called several times to make sure I'm alright through this process. When the biopsy came back, the pathology was a bit vague. Low grade serous carcinoma of gynecologic origin. I was immediately referred to a gynecologic oncologist and the slides have been transferred into his care to be reviewed again.
My CAT scans don't seem to have much useful information, but the oncologist scared the holy bejeebus out of me by saying 'You have dots on your lungs.' He followed up quickly by saying they're too small to biopsy and could very well be scar tissue from childhood breathing issues...but his delivery left a bit to be desired!
I had my pelvic MRI done yesterday morning, and I'm still waiting back for results from all the various labs the oncologist ordered. He's almost certain this is ovarian in origin, but we don't have a complete game plan yet. I go back to his office Tuesday for a sort of 'introduction to chemotherapy' class where all the newly diagnosed can ask questions and see the infusion center and staff.
With all this waiting my brain's been like a hamster spinning its wheel. I know just enough to scare myself in the worst ways, and the concept of the surgery I know is down the line only made it worse. I don't have children, never really wanted any, but now that my conscious decision has been turned into a physical impossibility...I broke down into an ugly cry for an hour. It's not that I want children suddenly, I just mourn the ability to continue to make those decisions about my life and body myself.