How it all began

My last mammogram was in 1999. I really didn't worry about it because I didn't have any cancer in my family. My family is filled with emotional dysfunctionality, lots of heart problems and dementia. As a matter of fact, I just came through the mitral valve prolapse scare from my use of diet pills. So, I arrogantly figured "that was it," for me!

So, you can imagine my surpise when, on August 10, I was told that they "found something that needed a closer look." My mammogam showed 'numerous scattered calcification and a benign nodule.' I jokingly told my husband that I needed to take a picture of him with me because they wanted a closer look at my boob!

My next steps were sonogram, core biopsy and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

I received the pathology report and diagnosis at 1:05 p.m., August 20. I knew something was up when my doctor called me (and not the nurse) ... "positive for a certain form of breast cancer." I was sitting down at the time, lost for words, not expecting to hear what I just heard. All the online research indicated that 80% of all calcifications were benign. While stuttering to find the right questions to ask, I was told that my next step would be a visit to a general surgeon ... and, we would take it one step at a time.

It appears that I have DCIS -- carcinoma in situ, located in duct-branch. "This is good," he told me ... "some don't even consider this cancer." He recommended a lumpectomy and removal of the sentinel lobe (lymph node), with foll0w-up radiation. Surgery was scheduled for the following Friday, August 24.

Great, I found it early; they diagnosed it; and, of all possible cancers, this was the one with the best survival rate. Plus, I was scheduled to have surgery on Friday ... get everything done, out of the way, and get on with my life.

The Thursday afternoon before surgery, as I was cutting grass and trying to "get things in order" before my surgery, I recevied a call from my doctor. He said the radiologist requires an MRI prior to the surgery to ensure that they know as much as they can before they go in.

That was like a gut punch.

Sure, I'd had some time to think about it, bore my friends with details of everything I was going through, cry about it an even speculate on what might happen. However, it was all very superficial...all too "easy." This jolted me back into the reality of what I have. This gave me more time to think about it...and, more time to wait.

I've been assigned a "nurse navigator," Donna, who has been tremendously helpful throughout this process. She tells me what's going to happen and why the MRI is required.

So, all this "clinical" discussion about my diagnosis is just that ... very clinical, very sterile, very removed. The truth is, I'm scared. I have no idea what the MRI will show ... but I'm trying to be positive.

I work for a non-profit organization called Unity. It's been my saving grace throughout this process. Not only do I receive emotional support for my friends/co-workers, but the main mission of Unity is prayer...and, I'm blessed to receive lots of prayer support. But, there's the reality of life and death. There's the reality that people die.

I struggle through dealing with the reality of science and medicine and the spirituality of hope and positive thinking. I also deal with the "what ifs" running through my head. I've been told that when what we call "bad news" is received, the question should not be "God, why me?" but rather, "God, what am I to learn from this?"

Easier said than done. But I'm working on it ... because, when you're left with the waiting, it's probably the best mind exercise around.

I'm scheduled for my MRI on Monday, and hope that it confirms that we're dealing with a simple, localized non-cancer cancer!

Namaste,
Chele