Breast Cancer Diaries Entry 4: My First Biopsy Experience

I’m not going to lie—I was afraid of this procedure, and with good reason. A biopsy is no small thing. It’s invasive, uncomfortable, and carries with it the weight of what the results might mean. Still, it was a step I had to take, and like every part of this journey, it has become another chapter in my Breast Cancer Diaries.

Walking Into the Unknown

I arrived at Derry Imaging in Bedford dressed in comfy clothing and my brand-new front-opening sports bra—purple, of course. If you’re going to buy a sports bra that you’ll probably never use again, you may as well get it in your favorite color, right? Humor has always been my way of coping, but even I couldn’t completely joke away the nerves. After all, this was a breast biopsy, and I had no idea how my body would react.

The Team That Made It Bearable

Enter Erika, the nicest nurse ever. She walked me through every detail of the procedure—possibly more detail than I wanted to know, but her thoroughness helped ease some of my fear. Soon, I was back in another lovely front-opening hospital gown, perched on the table, ready for whatever came next. In the room with me: Erika, another nurse, and of course the doctor who would be performing the biopsy.

Trying to lighten the mood, I joked about how, when I had my twins, there were so many people in the delivery room I should have charged admission. The doctor didn’t quite get the humor, but my nerves were on overdrive. When you’re scared, sometimes all you can do is laugh—whether anyone else joins in or not.

The Procedure

They cleaned and marked my breast, then came the lidocaine—one shot, then another, and another. After a few minutes, the biopsy began, and I quickly realized the numbing wasn’t enough. A sharp pain shot through me, and I had to ask for more lidocaine before they could continue. Eventually, the doctor was able to take the necessary samples—six of them in total. It felt like an eternity, though in reality it probably wasn’t that long.

As the doctor worked, the nurses chatted about everyday things—like one planning her daughter’s wedding and searching online for a broom for the couple to jump over. (Pro tip: apparently Amazon has them!) Oddly enough, those snippets of conversation helped distract me from the reality of what was happening. Life keeps moving, even in the middle of something as nerve-wracking as a biopsy.

After the Biopsy

Once the samples were collected, they bandaged me up—not with the fun smurf Band-Aid I requested, but with steri-strips arranged in a star shape, topped with a clear adhesive “window” so I could monitor for bleeding or infection. They sent me off with a tiny ice pack, some chocolate, extra-strength Tylenol, and very clear instructions for aftercare. Honestly, it felt a little like leaving with a survival kit for the day. Side note – I found out the next morning that I was allergic to the dressing they put on me.

To my surprise, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. With the ice pack and Tylenol, the soreness was manageable. I went home, curled up in bed, binged a few episodes of Criminal Minds, and let my body rest. For all my fear, the reality of this biopsy was less overwhelming than I expected.

Finding Positivity in the Process

What I’ve learned through this experience is that mindset matters. Yes, the biopsy was scary, and yes, it hurt—but it didn’t break me. Writing about it here is part of my healing process, and so is leaning into positivity. If you’re curious about how I’ve worked on building that mindset, you might want to check out this post on positive thinking from my archives.

And for anyone facing a similar procedure, I want to reassure you: you are stronger than you think. If you’d like more information on what to expect during a biopsy, the Mayo Clinic offers a detailed overview that’s both clear and supportive.

Looking Ahead

As I wait for the results, I remind myself that this biopsy is just one part of my story. It’s a step toward answers, and answers—whatever they may be—are better than endless questions. For now, I’ll keep writing, keep sharing, and keep leaning into hope. Because that’s what these Breast Cancer Diaries are really about: turning fear into courage, one entry at a time.