“You have cancer.”
Staring into my bedroom closet with my doctor on the phone, I froze after hearing those words. The biopsy I had two days prior revealed cancer. There was no other information at the time – other than yes, I had breast cancer. I was scheduled for an appointment the following day with a surgeon. And that was it. I didn’t know what to do next, I couldn’t move and felt lightheaded. All I could do was pray. Lord. I can’t move. I don’t know what to do. After a few seconds a warmth of peace came over me and I was able to move and take a deep breath. I gathered myself together, brought my younger three kids to a friend’s, dropped off my oldest at dance class, and drove downtown where my husband was waiting for me. I was so scared. We both were. We took a minute and drove to a nearby waterfront and sat on a bench in the cold October weather. We prayed, talked, and sat in silence as we tried to ponder how our life had just changed in a second. After a bit we gathered ourselves, went home, and had a “normal” evening with our kiddos.
Around March of 2008 I noticed a small lump on the top of my left breast when doing my monthly self breast exam. The general rule of thumb with a self-breast exam is whatever you feel on one side you should feel on the other with very little deviation. This lump was only on my left side. My yearly exam was coming up so I decided to mention it then. It was probably nothing. Statistics were on my side.
My doctor ordered a baseline mammogram and ultrasound. During my ultrasound the radiologist came in to personally examine the area and determined since it wasn’t shaped like cancer (he said it was more bean shaped than pea shaped) it must be a cyst. The plan was to wait six months and have a repeat mammogram and ultrasound.
In early June of 2008 I had a relentless bout of pneumonia which took three rounds of antibiotics to cure. After about six weeks the pneumonia went away but the fatigue did not. I managed to go on our family vacation and finished out the summer feeling exhausted. But I made it through to September and got my three older kids off to school while my youngest was at home with me for another year.
September was also the month to repeat my mammogram and ultrasound. The lump had grown probably twice the size. I knew it had grown recently but wanted to get my kids in school and then deal with it. I had a terrible feeling about it and knew something wasn’t right in my body. I started preparing my mind and heart for the possibility it could be cancer. A slight bit of hope remained. It could be nothing, but this nagging feeling that something wasn’t right would not go away.
At the end of my appointment I was asked to stick around. I was told it was best to schedule a biopsy, and to head out to the waiting room and they will call me back to a room to go over details. Almost every seat was taken in the waiting room. I’m pretty sure I floated over to the closest chair and sat down.
After I sat down, for the first time since I found the lump seven months ago, tears started. I was so mad to be crying in the waiting room, and the more mad I became, the more the tears came. I tried to keep the tears at bay by telling myself to keep it together and toughen up. It didn’t work. They were tears of terror. I knew I had cancer. I put my head in my hands and cried. I was so tired. I felt a tap on my shoulder and a receptionist asked if I’d like to sit somewhere in private. I followed her to an empty room with a curtain and a table, and sat down and put my head in my arms. My biopsy was scheduled two days out.
Statistically my chances of the lump being cancer was low. That’s what others told me and that’s what I told others. But nah. I knew. My biopsy was at a Breast Center where amazing staff made me feel as comfortable as possible. In my dressing room there was a white plush robe to wear and a goodie bag full of pink crap. Cancer is not pink. It is actually puke green, dead black, darkest gray, and bile-color all mushed together.
The procedure room had an exam table with a hole in it (for my left breast) waiting for me. Laying on my belly I placed my left breast through the hole, put my left arm above my head, cranked my head to the right, and was advised to stay still for forty five minutes. The biopsy wasn’t painful but it was terribly uncomfortable! After it was over I got dressed, was given some post-biopsy instructions, and was told someone would “call me later with the results”. Words I would hear over and over again the next few weeks.
God Bless you!
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