The day I was diagnosed with breast cancer was no different
than any other day. I worked until 5 pm
and then popped over to the doctor’s office on my way home expecting to be told
I had a cyst or some other non-malignant, waste-of-time thing that would slightly
inconvenience my career and social life.
Imagine my surprise when the words that came out of her mouth were “Your
biopsy tested positive for cancer.” I am
33 years old.
When I first discovered the lump on Dec 29, 2013 I was a
little unnerved. However my doctor
assured me that because of my age and my limited family history the chances of
it being anything to worry about were very slim (Limited??? All 4 grandparents
are cancer survivors!?). I have since
learned that genetics is the cause in only a small number of breast
cancers. He even went so far as to hold
his index and thumb about a millimetre apart, saying there is but a teeny tiny
chance that this is cancer. I was comforted.
Fortunately he still felt that a mammogram and an ultrasound were
warranted.
My appointment at the Breast Centre was on Jan 15,
2014. I could have gotten in a few days sooner
I suppose, but I had work to do, people to see, concerts to attend – priorities
of course. And again – I believed there was a “teeny tiny” chance that this
could be serious and in my mind that meant I was fine. The mammogram was uncomfortable, but not
painful as I had heard it could be. I
guess it is different for everyone. The
mammogram showed nothing. They then gave
me the ultrasound – this was where they found it, the sneaky little thing! The tech went to get a doctor as I lay on the
clinic bed – topless and exposed... (and cold!)
The doctor came in and looked at
the screen saying “Oh yes – there IS a lump.”
As if I had made the whole thing up?
The next part was the worst part. The biopsy.
I still shudder when I think about it.
They “froze” my left breast by injecting me several times with dental
freezing. And wow did they ever
fail. I wasn’t supposed to feel a
thing. It was excruciating. Imagine a needle as thick as a small knitting
needle – but hollow. They jam this huge
thing into the lump 7 or 8 times and it actually rips pieces of my body out of me! It was painful and it made
disgusting clicky and squishy sounds. I
lay on the bed and cried. The nurses
thought I was crazy – you know, since I had been “frozen” and shouldn’t be
feeling anything. I spent 3 hours at the Breast Centre that morning, and then I
went to work.
It was a week later on Jan 22, 2014 that my doctor’s office
called. They had the results and needed
me to come in. Oh but my family doctor
was on vacation so did I want to wait for him to return? Really?
Of course not! Let’s get this
over with so I can move on with my life.
I have plans you know! Once she told me – this young and kind woman who
I had never before met – I think I was in a little bit of shock. I don’t think I reacted at all. No tears, no anger. I thanked her, and went about my day – ran my
errands, picked up my groceries and went home.
I started cleaning. I
am no neat freak. Neither am I one of
those people that finds cleaning “therapeutic” or “calming”. I hate housework. It was then I think that
the gravity of the situation started to creep into my thick skull. I thought to myself – Hmm… maybe I should
call someone.
My beautiful and wonderful friends have been there for me
through all sorts of drama and this was no exception. K and L showed up and whisked me away to one
of our favorite watering holes – because how could we possibly have this conversation
without wine? We talked. We cried. We laughed
and hugged. We cried some more. This was the start of our journey and they
have not left my side since.
My diagnosis shocked my friends. And it shocked me. I simply did not know how to react. It was as though it wasn’t real. Not dream-like – just not real. I remember having
a nightmare that night, but I have no idea what it was about. I remember waking up in the morning and in
that state of semi-consciousness when you are awake but not quite awake, my
brain (as it always does after a bad dream) attempted to sort out what was
dream and what was reality. I don’t
remember the dream but I do remember with clarity the words that surfaced as my
mind rid itself of the night’s demons – I. Have. Cancer.
