"The
doctor wants to see you in his office" the nurse said as I sat looking at
a ludicrous display of fashion in an Elle magazine in the little side-bar
waiting room with the little tight dressing rooms for the oversized cropped
pink bib "gowns", for lack of a better word. A gown should at least
go to your knees in a medical setting. I do not care how easy it makes a technicians
job these things are a disaster and I would not doubt they are part of the
whole sorted picture that turns women off from coming in let alone getting
their boobs pressed down like a pancake in a freezing cold room because
"the machine needs it to be cold." Yeah? Well I say the machine needs
to grow a pair. But anyway, there I am, and I was hoping that this would be my
last appointment again for a whole year and I would be "in the
clear". In January 2010 I was diagnosed, thanks to the icy cold
machines, with breast cancer. There was the needle biopsy, the surgery and six
weeks of radiation. So, the icy machine and the amazing staff of doctors and
technicians who treated me 100% of the time with appreciated dignity and
respect, saved my life. 5% chance it was to come back. I heard stories...women
like me. They had it at the earliest stage, and it never came back. They were
fine.
But
there I stood in the doctor’s office staring at three very large computer
monitors of every mammogram picture that had been taken of my innards since
2009. The doctor started to talk but all I could hear was "See this one?
It looks good." "Ok, now see this one?..." I started to shake. I
can tell you that I shook like that for a whole week before it went away. I
heard him say "recommend another needle biopsy", "we cannot tell
the difference between normal calcification or if it the cancer has
returned"...I remember being escorted into the once again kindly woman's
office who set up the needle biopsy last time and the amazing nurse technician
that told me to take deep breaths and drive carefully home. I also remember the
doctor saying a few stupid things...bless his heart...one of them being "Now
do not let this ruin your weekend or anything."
Idiot.
Thus
followed the appointments and the blood tests and the needle biopsy... and the
weekend where I basically turned into a mad woman just wanting to get "the
phone call" over with one way or the other. I tried with all my might to
think positive. "It is just normal calcification."
The
next morning my surgeon phoned and reluctantly said, "It is cancer." News I am sure
that is never easy to deliver, and never easy to receive. Diagnosed again the
morning of October 3, 2011. At the beginning of National Breast Cancer
Awareness Month.
Most
of you familiar with my blog know that that since September it has focused
primarily on my autoimmune condition as a way to reach out and help others as
well as help myself. And I had actually planned on blogging a few times for
breast cancer this month to tell my story from 2010 as well as my Nana's. But
alas my adventure continues. And so the fact is when something
"extra" in the health department like this comes along it can feel
like trying to move mountains. Surgeries that take what us spoonies call a
"normal" to recover from could take four to five times longer for
someone like myself. And I have had quite a few surgeries and hospitalizations
the past four and a half years. Set back after set back after set back. I was
just getting to a nice point where things were a bit more managed. Enjoying my
part-time job, spending more time in my studio creating for my business and so
on. So this time, I am pretty grumpy. Oh I know that there are blue skies ahead
and "this too will pass" and "stay strong" all of that good
stuff. That I am lucky they caught it early and there is so much they can do
now, etc. etc. But I was thankful to find that this was exactly another woman's
reaction in one of the brochures the doctor gave me which included some
personal stories of women and how they felt. "This cancer is just a
nuisance." she states. Because just how many time-consuming, energy
draining nuisances can you put up with before you cannot help but say really?
Seriously? Now??
BUT....cancer
made a mistake knocking on my knockers again I tell you. Thus the photo.
Because I have been knocked down plenty of times. If this sucker thinks it is
going to win, it has another thing coming. I may lose a lot of time to surgery,
recovery and possibly even treatment but letting it win is not an option. I
know this deep inside, although I tell my husband I am tempted to cancel my
surgery, max out my credit card and go to Hawaii with him. But you cannot run
away from something dangerous inside you. The ticking time bomb needs to have
the right wires cut. Oh but goodness lets not use the word "cut". The
surgeries will be tough. The recovery will not be fun. But I plan on winning.
And if even one person is helped by this blog, or one person can help me who
has been there, I am grateful. This disease touches so many people that is why
we are bombarded with pink stuff now. I have always been a great supporter for
the cure. In the past I did a breast cancer walk to honor my Nana. Now I look
forward to another t-shirt in my future.. "Survivor". After all, I am small but mighty.
More
to come....♥
Hi Miki,
ReplyDeleteYou don't know me, but my friend Gretchen added me to the Lotus site. I, too, waited for and got that phone call that was supposed to be "...don't worry, it's nothing" but instead got the "...so sorry to tell you that it IS cancer again". I was originally diagnosed in February 2002. I had a lumpectomy, chemo and radiation. I had been fine ever since. Nine years later, in April 2011, I was told I had cancer again, a new occurrence in the other breast. Ugh! So not fair. I had another lumpectomy and a port placed. My poor arms just couldn't handle chemo again. I just finished six rounds of chemo and I'm waiting to start my radiation. I just wanted to write and let you know you're not alone. This whole cancer thing sucks the big one. But you're right...we will prevail! We're stronger than cancer and we will continue to fight and live our lives as long as the good Lord lets us. Hang in there and know tomorrow is usually a better and brighter day. Feel free to contact me anytime. I'm on that Lotus site...Ginny Newman Veloz
Being grumpy about it's good. It means you have a lot of stank in you! Let that. Cancer have it!
ReplyDeleteGlad you are who you are. Love, Bets
ReplyDeleteGinny-I remember you from the Lotus lounge. I am so, so very sorry yours has returned and your arms are hurting and you had to have more chemo and now radiation. I never had chemo, but I had radiation last year and even that was no picnic. I wish now I had not done it, because it gave me worse problems with my autoimmune condition. I will be praying for you and keeping the best of good karma and healing thoughts coming your way. Feel free to share any time. I hope as I write this your not feeling too bad today. Bless you for sharing. @ Jenn and Elizabeth love you both.
ReplyDeleteHi, my name is Shawn and I'm sending a whole butt load of positive vibes your way. Metaphorically speaking of course. We should all be as brave as you. I'm adding you to my heroes list.
ReplyDeleteSmall but mighty indeed. So cool your perspective on this. Go ahead, be grumpy. Its your right. Embrace the bitter, the joy, and any other emotion your heart may feel. Whatever it takes to get you through this. Suppress nothing I say.
ReplyDeleteYou've got a great support network but I'm still sending lots of love your way. Of course you'll beat this. Thanks so much for sharing Miki. You rock!