This Is What It Was Really Like To Go Through A Fine Needle Breast Biopsy

It turns out "biopsy" is the type of word that immediately brings tears to my eyes when it's connected to me. I began crying as she finished the scan, despite her words of reassurance, despite her attempts at asking me questions that could distract me. I cried again when she left the room, cried while texting home, and completely sobbed in the lobby of the office.

I was in a country where it was possible to turn around and get the biopsy the same day, but I was way too emotional for that so I was sent home with, "You are most likely healthy and OK" and the phone number for a surgeon I could contact directly myself. I waited an hour or two so I could calm down and then reached out, and we set up the biopsy for two days later (four days from experiencing discharge and finding the lump) over text message.

Part of my fear was due to not really knowing what a biopsy is in the first place. When it comes to my particular issue, there were a few ways they could do the biopsy, but my surgeon told me I'd undergo a fine needle biopsy. It'd require only local anesthesia, which I had mixed feelings about, and the needle itself would be bigger than I'd expect but not painful.

I told myself not to get on Reddit and read about biopsies ahead of time, but promptly began Googling and Redditing about an hour after that. I also reminded myself of the fact that typically people who are writing in forums on the internet have receied bad news, and that the statistics were in my favor, but I was still really freaked out.

Just the prospect of the biopsy was worse than the actual biopsy itself. I'm 37, I'm a mom, I'm in a relationship where I feel really loved for the first time in my life. I have two chihuahuas, I have a career I am enthralled by. This wasn't on my to-do list now or ever.

I was a crying mess the morning of the procedure, but my boyfriend and I set off anyway. I didn't tell my child about it ahead of time because I didn't want to worry him, and instead we sat in the lobby of the hospital, waiting together and trading assurances about how it would all be OK.

My boyfriend was able to go back into the procedure room with me, which I didn't expect and was tremendously thankful for. There was a spot for him to sit where he was in my line of vision but not close enough to cause any inadvertant medical harm, and having him there where I could see him was exactly what I needed. Looking up to lock eyes with the person you love when you are in a truly vulnerable position is a powerful salve I hadn't experienced up to that point.

So here's how the actual procedure went: I changed into the gown given to me by the surgeon and anesthesiologist and laid down on the bed. I absolutely promise you that this moment was one of the worst moments in the entire experience: lying down on the table and waiting for it all to begin. At one point the surgeon turned around to tell me something and I nearly jumped off the table before we all laughed.

They walked me through everything that would happen and showed me the needle. In retrospect, I think it would be better, at least for me, to not have seen it, but either way, I didn't have an understanding of how the procedure would truly work until they began. They made sure the breast was numb and made a small incision; from there, the surgeon began to use the needle to complete the rest.

Based on my experience and understanding, here's what happened next: the needle is inserted into the cyst and then used to break off a tiny piece of it. The cyst itself was small (1 cm), and the surgeon told me later that it moved a lot (which is supposed to be a good sign), which made it a little tough. In all, they took around eight samples. The anesthesiologist was on hand to help with any bleeding, and I spent nearly the entire procedure with my eyes squeezed shut, holding one of her hands and hoping that each sample was the last one.

Retrieving the samples is difficult to describe. You'll feel a little pressure, and the needle itself makes a very loud clicking noise that is scary at first but that (at least for me) begins to become reassuring. I was most definitely counting how many samples he took (he told me it wouldn't be more than eight and he stuck by that), so after we crossed the halfway point I began to feel a little better and a little stronger.

If you are the type of person who can be easily distracted by watching something on TV and your procedure room allows for it, that would be a great distraction from what's going on. Keeping my eyes shut and breathing through it worked for me, and at one point I was even OK with talking about my work and being a mom.

The experience was definitely unpleasant, and it's not something that I want to do again. I was sent home with a bandage on the incision site and told not to shower for 24 hours. I was also sent home with a prescription for painkillers but I never used it — I took two Tylenol whenever I felt pain for the next two to three days, and that was enough for me.

The physical recovery was really only tough for the first two to three days. I was sore for a day but it wasn't an insurmountable pain. I slept on my back for about five days after because I was scared to do anything else, and I had a little bleeding off and on for a day or two, but nothing that was cause for concern.

The mental recovery was a little tougher — I am the type of person for whom the before and after a medical experience can be harder than actually getting through the experience itself. I was scared to take the bandage off for two or three days, and was worried that bleeding would randomly start for days after.

I got my results a week after the biopsy, and I'm happy to report the cyst is benign. Since then, I've found out these cysts are fairly common, and a few women I know started getting them around this age. I'm having the cyst removed completely in a few weeks, and I'm looking forward to putting this entire experience behind me.