I am grateful for my lump. Words I never thought I would say and yet here I am; finding the silver lining of early detection.
I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma on March 13. I also never thought I would become so comfortable and fluent in medical terms and procedures but here we are.
The past three months have been a ride with continuous heart-stopping drops. Let me break this down:
January I discovered a lump
February I had an appointment with my OB
The following week I had a mammogram and ultrasound
The next week I had a biopsy
The next day I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I received a call from my OB asking if I wanted to come in or discuss over the phone and my nerves would not allow me to wait another second for the results. As I bathe my child I discuss the abnormality of my type of cancer, how aggressive it is and how there will be years of treatment in my future.
I thanked her, hung up the phone, and rinsed the conditioner from Leona's hair.
To say "life goes on" is an understatement. As I prepare and pack her little lunch my mind is fogged by the heavy weight of the words I just consumed. As I brush and style her hair, I imagine how losing mine will look. As we drive to school drop off, I play her favorite songs ranging from Judas Priest to Taylor Swift as I hear nothing at all. After she bounces away to her friends in the Pre K line I pull off and make the call to my husband.
We start to tell family. We inform our friends. Calls and texts we hate to share as we don't connect often enough in the first place. Relaying information and answering questions begins. Except we don't have any answers... Yet.
The grief hits us at different times and for different reasons. As you can imagine, life flashes before you and plays in your mind like a roll of film. Initially we were only given general information about my cancer: Invasive Ductal Carcinoma Grade 3. What is a grade? Is that the same as stage? Oh god thats bad. And we had to wait about a week to meet with a breast specialist for the rest of the information. The waiting is the hardest part. The unknown is the hardest part.
We leaned on each other, we leaned on people who have been through the same.
Our appointment finally came on a beautiful warm, sunny day. My girl friends wore pink in solidarity.
We sat in the tiny room, sweating, not only because of anticipation but the AC was broken. We wait watching the temperature rise on the unit...76...78...79. The doctor comes in.
STAGE ONE.
Relief. Tears. Squeeze my hand three times.
My exact treatment plan is yet to be determined (appointment this week) and I know this will be a long road ahead.
Here is what I am grateful for:
- My husband
- My daughter
- Family
- Friends the feel like family
- Negative genetic testing! (lowers the risk for Leona)
- My health (besides the cancer part)
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