That small little lump
That can change the course of your life in mere seconds.
Its the size of an almond, on the bottem of my left breast. The discovery was interesting. Everyone was piled on my bed as per usual, talking over each other excitedly about their day at school. I was casually doing my monthly breast exam
while discussing gym shoes, peanut free snacks and picture day when my fingers glided across a bump. HALT. Back over the bump...and again..and again. Yes, there is definately something there. I nudge him. Do you feel something? He does. He looks at me with a look I'll never forget. It was something to the effect of...no, this can't be happening. My eldest reaches out and touches. Under any other circumstance, it would have been comical. The family taking turns scientifically squeezing my breast as though it was a ripe melon at the grocery store. It wasn't amusing however. It was silent. Eerie silence for a moment and he says to me; The Doctors office opens at 8. Call at 8:01. I did and they scheduled me for an appt Sept 15th, today.
The week was filled with a combination of uncomfortable jokes (by me) nervous apprehension ( carefully concealed) and a few startling revelations ( again by me)
I'm dramatic. Everyone who knows me is aware the crown sits comfortably on my head.
This was my forum and I wasn't going to let anyone down by actually being level headed. Revelation number 1. If I have breasts cancer, I'm not fucking around. I wouldn't think twice about a double mastectomy and a hit of radiation. My breasts have long since served their purpose. They nourished 3 babies and have provided many years of pillow comfort for a sick childs little cheek. They don't define me as a woman and they aren't significant to me. My heart beating is significant to me.
Revelation number 2. Should this be the beginning of a long journey to wellness, I need to do it alone. I will not have my family stand by helplesly while I suffer through battle. This revelation was met with great resistance and a good, healthy screaming match. How could I be so self absorbed he asked? How could I just cut people off he asked. I don't see it that way. I don't want to be fodder for sympathy. I don't want them to see me bent over a toilet bowl or watch as I brush clumps of falling hair from my head. They can never forget who I was before.
Somewhere, mid week we all collectively decided it was merely a cyst. Call it denial, call it survival but by Wednesday, all 'C' related chatter ceased. I quietly went to my appt today and reminded no-one. The appt lasted a total of 15 minutes.
The Doctor poked, he prodded, he moved the bump between his fingers and frowned.
He looked at me and said; I don't like this bump and I'm scheduling a mammogram and ultrasound. The good news is that its early and very surface,
We can deal with this.
We can deal with this he says. I liked that. We..together..joint effort. Then it hit me. What an idiot I am. My brain scanned back to the screaming match earlier this week and the lightbulb went on.
This isn't just about me. This is about at the very least 8 people. Eight people who I matter to. Eight people who aren't in a rush to lay the wreath at my grave. Eight people that I need to be honest with about the current situation. Eight people whom I need to reach out to.
I learned something monumental this morning. If it's God's will, the mammogram will show nothing more than a cyst but regardless of outcome the lesson has already been learned. I need them and they need
me.
I'm okay right now. I'm just going to continue on with my crazy, tumulteous, amazing little life . Next Friday will come soon enough and whatever happens, we'll deal with it. We.
Its the size of an almond, on the bottem of my left breast. The discovery was interesting. Everyone was piled on my bed as per usual, talking over each other excitedly about their day at school. I was casually doing my monthly breast exam
while discussing gym shoes, peanut free snacks and picture day when my fingers glided across a bump. HALT. Back over the bump...and again..and again. Yes, there is definately something there. I nudge him. Do you feel something? He does. He looks at me with a look I'll never forget. It was something to the effect of...no, this can't be happening. My eldest reaches out and touches. Under any other circumstance, it would have been comical. The family taking turns scientifically squeezing my breast as though it was a ripe melon at the grocery store. It wasn't amusing however. It was silent. Eerie silence for a moment and he says to me; The Doctors office opens at 8. Call at 8:01. I did and they scheduled me for an appt Sept 15th, today.
The week was filled with a combination of uncomfortable jokes (by me) nervous apprehension ( carefully concealed) and a few startling revelations ( again by me)
I'm dramatic. Everyone who knows me is aware the crown sits comfortably on my head.
This was my forum and I wasn't going to let anyone down by actually being level headed. Revelation number 1. If I have breasts cancer, I'm not fucking around. I wouldn't think twice about a double mastectomy and a hit of radiation. My breasts have long since served their purpose. They nourished 3 babies and have provided many years of pillow comfort for a sick childs little cheek. They don't define me as a woman and they aren't significant to me. My heart beating is significant to me.
Revelation number 2. Should this be the beginning of a long journey to wellness, I need to do it alone. I will not have my family stand by helplesly while I suffer through battle. This revelation was met with great resistance and a good, healthy screaming match. How could I be so self absorbed he asked? How could I just cut people off he asked. I don't see it that way. I don't want to be fodder for sympathy. I don't want them to see me bent over a toilet bowl or watch as I brush clumps of falling hair from my head. They can never forget who I was before.
Somewhere, mid week we all collectively decided it was merely a cyst. Call it denial, call it survival but by Wednesday, all 'C' related chatter ceased. I quietly went to my appt today and reminded no-one. The appt lasted a total of 15 minutes.
The Doctor poked, he prodded, he moved the bump between his fingers and frowned.
He looked at me and said; I don't like this bump and I'm scheduling a mammogram and ultrasound. The good news is that its early and very surface,
We can deal with this.
We can deal with this he says. I liked that. We..together..joint effort. Then it hit me. What an idiot I am. My brain scanned back to the screaming match earlier this week and the lightbulb went on.
This isn't just about me. This is about at the very least 8 people. Eight people who I matter to. Eight people who aren't in a rush to lay the wreath at my grave. Eight people that I need to be honest with about the current situation. Eight people whom I need to reach out to.
I learned something monumental this morning. If it's God's will, the mammogram will show nothing more than a cyst but regardless of outcome the lesson has already been learned. I need them and they need
me.
I'm okay right now. I'm just going to continue on with my crazy, tumulteous, amazing little life . Next Friday will come soon enough and whatever happens, we'll deal with it. We.
posted by Sandi at 10:03 AM
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