October 9, 2018 - This blog post continues to follow my story and comes in sequence after The Good in People from 2018.
Before I knew it, August was here. I had anticipated great upheaval in our house with the impending moves of four of our daughters to their respective colleges. Our 16-year-old started her junior year of high school the same day we moved one of our 18-year-old twins, Andrea, to college here in town. Although Andrea's college was just 25 minutes away, we felt strongly about the independence gained through dorm living. After we got her moved in, we not only had to say goodbye to Andrea but her boyfriend as well, who was leaving for basic training in the Air Force. It was quite the emotional rollercoaster for a parent.
One week later, my husband Terry and I found ourselves on a plane to Tampa to move our other twin daughter Monica into college. We would have just 24 hours there to get her moved in and settled. I felt like the chaos and face pace of the summer continued to follow us. Move-in day proved to be quite busy, as we made trips out to Target, lunch, and then finally Walmart to pick up all the items we forgot to purchase at Target.
While stuck in the throngs of heavy traffic on the way back to her dorm one last time to drop her off, I was teetering on the brink of tears as the reality set in that we would soon be leaving her 1000 miles from home. Suddenly my cell phone rang. I quickly answered it, hoping whoever was on the line would be a good distraction from the impending goodbyes, weighing heavily on me. Distraction was an understatement.
I was completely engulfed in my thoughts, when, out of the blue, a nurse from Ohio called. She wanted to let me know that my annual routine mammogram had come back abnormal.
What?????
I needed to go in for a second mammogram. Could I make it tomorrow morning? Yes, but….wait, what???
My brain kept replaying what the nurse just said to be sure I heard her correctly. In that brief instant, the breakneck speed of my summer came to a grinding halt. Suddenly, all the issues that had been the focus of my attention dissipated into paltry afterthoughts in the back of my mind. Though the rest of the phone call was a blur, I managed to schedule a repeat mammogram for the very next day, and then the call ended as abruptly as it began. I sat there in stunned silence for a bit, processing the conversation, and grappled with how to best relay the details to Terry. Eventually, I was able to articulate the reason for the call, which left both of us in shocked disbelief.
After getting Monica situated, Terry and I headed home. On the flight, we briefly discussed the pending mammogram, certain this new one would be normal. There was no history of breast cancer in my family. Furthermore, I had just seen my doctor and she hadn't noticed any lumps. This new health concern blindsided me.
When I returned the next day for the second mammogram, the radiologist asked to speak to me in his office. Uh oh...that is never good...and it, indeed, was not. He showed me my images and pointed to the cluster of irregular microcalcifications on the left side that looked rather suspicious of cancer. For a definitive diagnosis, I needed to schedule a biopsy of this questionable tissue. I explained to the scheduling nurse that Terry and I were to leave the very next day for a week at Yellowstone National Park. This trip had been planned for 9 months and we were both looking forward to it. Consequently, the biopsy was arranged for 13 days later. Thirteen days felt like an eternity to wait and worry.
Despite everything, we made it to Montana and had a fantastic trip to Yellowstone. We cooked dinner together every night and binge-watched Netflix. The view of the stars from our cabin was nothing short of spectacular. We covered 17 miles of hiking trails to higher elevations where my Parkinson's temporarily resolved, enabling me to move easily, without stiff muscles. After being around so many people all summer, we welcomed the solitude. It was quality time with just the two of us (well, and the wildlife). This vacation wound up to be our favorite of all time, even though the impending biopsy loomed over us all week. I must admit that spending a week in a beautiful location like Yellowstone was a vast improvement over laying on my couch feeling sorry for myself while I waited to have the biopsy done.
While on this vacation, I had just enough information from the mammograms to get on Google and research the odds of the biopsy coming back as cancer. Generally, 70% of microcalcifications are benign. Since my calcifications were clustered and varied in size, that brought my odds down to 50-50 of benign vs. malignant. Despite the fact I could not detect a lump of any size or shape, I somehow still knew deep down that the biopsy would come back on the wrong side of that 50%.
Finally, the morning of the biopsy arrived as Terry nervously drove me to the appointment. There was nothing easy or pleasant about the entire biopsy process. After the doctor got all the biopsies she needed, I continued to bleed through pressure bandages. Bleeding like that was not typical, which left me with an overwhelming feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Time seemed to crawl as I waited for the biopsy results. It was a nerve-racking several days as my mind went through a continual loop of what-ifs.
At long last, the doctor called five days later. I was sitting in a parking lot on the way into my dentist's office. In a very upbeat manner, the doctor told me I had the earliest stage of breast cancer and in all probability, it hadn't spread yet. At most, I would need to have it surgically removed and then go for radiation. Before I had a chance to ask what the exact type of breast cancer was, she was already off the line.
I sat there for a minute to sort out this news. Historically, when it came to my health, I inevitably received the worst news possible. But, this time, I had the earliest stage of breast cancer.
I could beat this - of that, I felt certain.
At that moment, I felt truly relieved to not have advanced cancer and spent the entire dental exam pondering my options.
I decided to call a major cancer treatment center here in town to get some information and guidance. Within minutes, my biopsy report was read to me, detailing my cancer, something called DCIS or ductal carcinoma in situ. The receptionist spent 24 hours arranging several consultation appointments for me. I was very impressed with her efforts as she called me after 5 PM the next afternoon to let me know appointment dates and times, and with which doctors.
Another 11 days would pass before I saw the breast surgeon. I liked her. She was attentive to my concerns and put together a plan of action before I left that afternoon. Though I didn't know what the outcome would be, it felt good to have a game plan in place.
The cancerous calcifications covered a 2.5-centimeter area and were categorized as Stage II, which was a moderate-grade DCIS. The surgeon recommended aggressive surgery to ensure full removal, and, with complete removal, I wouldn't need to have any radiation done. That was a huge win in my book. Plus, a mastectomy couldn't possibly be as bad as two back surgeries within one year, right? It's not I like was losing an arm, leg, or even a finger. All I wanted was to have this evil growing inside me removed.
The diagnosis of breast cancer is devastating. I was fortunate that mine was detected early, through a routine mammogram. Though this diagnosis caught me quite by surprise, my years of coping with Parkinson's had given me the strength and determination to face the cancer head-on.
Let the pre-op testing begin. Onward I go.
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