Hello, Breast Cancer

So it seems I have cancer. Cancer. Just like that, I’m a cancer patient. One day I’m minding my own business when suddenly—WHAM! Cancer is in the forefront of my mind and doctors’ appointments are taking over my calendar pages.

How the hell did this happen? I have never smoked. I don’t drink heavily (although now I might). I am very active, relatively fit, never get sick, and have always been healthy (or so I thought). I have even carried a vegan shield for the past 8 ½ years and vegetarian armor for 22 years. Why didn't they protect me? And surely my compassionate, happy, ‘live and let live’ nature accounts for something. Nope, apparently not when it comes to the “c” word. None of my positive defenses were any kind of match for breast cancer. It snuck in past my animal-defending, human rights-supporting, and earth-loving guards and nestled into my breast tissue where it has dodged my immune system army and created a nice home for itself—without my permission. For the record, I wouldn't mind it living there (I’m fine with symbiotic living), if it weren't trying to kill me. That’s not cool.

The first time I noticed an uninvited intruder may be occupying my body was in the shower when I felt a lump about 2 or 3 months ago. It was easily detected; firm and out of place. Still, there’s no way it could be cancer, I told myself. Eventually I found a family doctor (as I mentioned, I never get sick, no need for a FP doc) who felt what I felt and sent me for a mammogram and ultrasound. Little did I know then, she was pushing me onto a terrifying and life-altering ride with no defined end. Wait, I didn't want this—can I change my mind? Can I get off now?  

When I made my way to getting this lump checked out by mammogram and ultrasound, my friend, "Emma’s mom" came with me for support. Confident that this was still nothing, I saw the whole ordeal as a fun afternoon with an uncomfortable set of tests in between a girls’ lunch and bonding catch-up time. Emma’s mom was great; she held a strong sense of concern for the lump while maintaining the spirit of ‘ladies time away’. That’s when a bit more concern appeared on this ride. The radiologist who read my scans requested I come back the next day for a biopsy. She reported that the masses (hold on—did you say masses??) are not normal and a lymph node is also swollen. This shit just got real. I scheduled the biopsy for the next morning.

My husband brought me to the biopsy appointment. You know it’s serious when you bring your spouse to a doctor’s appointment. This was a first for me. The biopsy was painful and seemed to take forever, but it was certainly made better by the fabulous staff at the women’s imaging center. I must note here that I was tended to by the best women’s care staff in the world. My high regard for them comes from the gentle yet honest care they provided both days I visited their facility. And the radiologist couldn't have been better. She sat me and my husband down, gave us the basics of the biopsy and scans, then offered, “I’m not sure how honest you want me to be here”. Since I've never been one to overreact, I asked her to tell me everything she saw and give us her honest opinion. That’s just what she did, which included a diagnosis of breast cancer.

At that moment, without yet realizing it, I was placed into a new category. I was given a new label. I was treated differently, given a new list of priorities, and sent on a muddy path detour through my life.