Cancer?

It all started with a routine mammogram on Wed., March 10th, 2010. I arrived on time and everything went like "clock work". I was impressed by how quickly patients could get in and get out.
Not knowing what to expect, I followed the instructions of the technician and before I knew it, we were done. It wasn't painful or uncomfortable, and the only thing that bothered me is that I felt OLD. Having a first mammogram means you've reached the age of ... gasp... 40!
Before the process began, the technician informed me that it's not uncommon to be called back for additional images following the first mammogram, because they like to have a good baseline of information for future annual mammograms.
With that in mind, if the nurse's voice hadn't been so consoling and she hadn't asked "How are you feeling" when she called on Friday (March 12th, 2010) to tell me that the breast center would be calling to schedule more images, I'd not had even a hint that there may be a problem. She said that if the breast center hasn't called me by mid0day on Monday, I should call the doctor's office so they can get on it for me.
I couldn't help but worry some over the weekend. It was a relief to receive a call from the doctor's at about 9:30 on Monday morning (March 15th, 2010). The additional images would be taken at 3:15 the following day, Tuesday, March 16th, 2010.
Still thinking that maybe they only need the pics to create a better baseline for future mammograms, the thing that I worried about the most was finding a good parking spot at EMMC. :-) However, while walking through the hallway in the hospital and taking note of the pretty, small garden encased in glass along the way, I had a strange feeling that my being there that day was going to mean change. Something was going to be different.
What a surprise it was when the technician who called me into the dressing room was the same one who'd taken the first pictures at the other facility the week before. Later, she informed me that once she realized I'd need more images, she requested to do them. I was relieved somehow, because I didn't want to expose my body to yet another stranger! :-)
I expressed some concern to the technician before she began, stating that I have three children under the age of five to care for, and a grandbaby coming in June, and that I was scared. She sat down with me and informed me that there IS something that needs to be addressed. She was kind of sober about it, and that was more than a subtle hint that something was indeed wrong. I began to feel nervous and emotional.
The tech. told me that the radiologist would read those images right away and possibly order an ultrasound. She led me to a dressing room where I promptly called my husband and asked him to come to the hospital to be with me. Thankfully, my oldest daughter Kaylee was home and able to watch the children. Her supervisor (her dad) was gracious and gave her the night off from work.
As the ultrasound was conducted, I was becoming more and more emotional and worrying about my children. If something happened to me, would they even remember me? Would my baby have any recollection of her mother? Would my babies be calling someone else "Mom"? It was very painful to think about these things, and it still is.
Overcome with emotion, I expressed some concern to the lady doing the ultrasound. She couldn't say anything, of course, so she proceeded with her work and tried to change the subject. It was especially concerning when she was spending some significant time scanning my armpit. I thought "Oh, it is in my lymph nodes, it's not good at all." Everyone was quiet, and it felt eerie!
Once the ultrasound had been completed, my husband arrived and was led to the room by the mammogram tech. I was so glad to see him!
Expecting the radiologist to come and speak with me, I was surprised when the ultrasound tech. returned and pointed to a wall phone, informing me that my OB/GYN would be calling me momentarily. I thought "This cannot be good. If my doctor is calling, it's very bad news."
I began crying and clutching my husband, spilling out about 1,000 thoughts and concerns while jumping up and down in frustration. Fear was taking over.
Shortly, the phone rang and it was my docctor. She started the conversation by telling me that she has been through this herself, and that 90% of breast lumps are benign. She told me that I'd be having a biopsy the next day at the hosptial and that I'd be in good hands with the doctor there. She encouraged me to think positive thoughts and to focus on the 90% statistic.
Her call offered me some hope. And, it was good news that a slot for a biopsy the next day had opened up, because normally it takes weeks to get in for that procedure. I started to have a sense that "God is with me in this."
Stephen and I went together for the biopsy. Again, Kaylee was kind to babysit. We sat in the waiting area and I put my brain to work reading "PEOPLE" magazine. :-) It was a good distraction.
Someone I knew came in and sat in the waiting area. I couldn't speak other than to greet her and smile. My heart was too heavy and I didn't want to spill out all that was on my mind, because perhaps she was also there for unpleasant reasons.
After a while the same nurse that had been on duty the day before led me to an exam room. She explained some possibilities for what would happen during the visit. Not long after, the "breast doctor" arrived in the room. She took a medical history, did a manual exam, and led my husband and I to her office to review the images taken the day before as well as the ones from the previous week. She pointed out that the lump is different from the normal breast tissue. She said that it is "concerning for cancer". I had a gazillion questions floating in my head, but that "C" word has a way of numbing a person's ability to process thoughts in a logical order. You get kind of hung up on that word: CANCER.
The doctor escorted us to the ultrasound room where she prepared my skin for the biopsy. The nurse and ultrasound tech. were there. Each person was offering good care and comfort in her own way, but nothing seemed to ease the emotional turmoil I was feeling. Occasionally, a tissue was passed my way, or the nurse would wipe my tears, but no one was giving me words of HOPE. They were simply CONSOLING. It didn't console me. I could only think of my three babies, my husband (whose family is far away in Africa), my oldest two children, my grandbaby who is due to arrive in June, and my aging parents facing their own health challenges. ALL of these people NEED me. I cannot be sick. I cannot take time off from my responsibilities. There isn't any time. They NEED me 24/7. I'm on call all of the time.
As the procedure took place, the medical staff kept apologizing for any pain or discomfort. didn't they know that I didn't care about that? I ONLY cared about my family. I can't leave them. They NEED me. Who cares about the pain and inconvenience of having a biopsy. They could do whatever they wanted to do to my body, just as long as they'd get me back on my feet and home to my family.
My husband was by my side, holding my hand, and offering encouragement. He sweetly whispered "I love you." I'm so grateful for his presence, for his support, for his love.
The nurse led me back to the exam room, the mammogram tech. draped a warm towel over my shoulders for comfort, and Stephen and I waited for further instruction. Eventually, the nurse patched up my wound and gave me discharge info. and told me to get dressed. The doctor invited us to her office.
The doctor told me she'd call with the biopsy results by Friday afternoon. That will be March 19th, 2010. I don't want to be alone when that call comes. I asked her "Is there a chance it's not cancer?" She said that she believes that it IS cancer. The next step will be to check my body to see if it has spread. My bones. My blood. My lungs.
Well, when hearing bad news about other people, I always say "We never know what a day will bring." Well, this time, it's my turn, and I am really and truly shocked that I'm facing the strong possibility of having CANCER. Just a week ago, I was doing my normal routine of caring for my busy children, helping my older ones, and taking care of the home and my husband. We were also doing construction in the house. Never a moment of rest, always busy. Now, i feel as I'm watching other people all around me continue with their busy lives and routines while my life has come to a stop, a pause, while I wait to find out if it's going to continue. It's not a fun "place" to be. I'm worried. I know where I'm going when I die, because I believe in Jesus. But, I'm not ready to leave my family. THAT is the pain for me. Not the cancer.
When we came home from the hospital, my kids were all at home, all five of them, and my daughter-in-law. What could be better than that when you've just received scary news? FAMILY was THERE. We ate boiled dinner because it was St. Patrick's Day. :-) We watched a movie my son and his wife had brought to share with us. I tried to enjoy it, and I did for the most part, but my mind kept wandering back to "What if?"
My husband wanted to show me what the carpenter had accomplished in the bathroom that day. I went upstairs to see this and looked at my little 16 months old girl playing in the empty tub while her dad showed me the progress in the room. I broke down and cried, because I love that kid so much! I CANNOT LEAVE that baby!
Our bathroom remodeling projects have been exciting for us, but it's interesting how just a day of bad news can change one's perspective. I don't care about bathrooms now. I just want to take care of my family and be there for them. That's all.
I went to sleep okay last night, but was awakened by the sound of the dehumidifier at 12:30 a.m. I went downstairs to use the bathroom and greeted my daugther who had not been home from work for very long. I showed her my bruise from the biopsy and we shared a giggle about how the doctor had initialed my breast before she performed the procedure. I told Kaylee "I didn't care if the doctor had drawn a picture on me--- I just didn't care." (I want to be well!)
It took a while to fall back to sleep after waking in the night. I laid there and listened to my husband's breathing and thought about how I want to LIVE and hear that sound for a long time yet.
The prayer support of others and the friendship of those who care is greatly appreciated. This trial is not a secret. I don't care who knows. How can anyone go through something like this alone? One can't.
Naturally, because we're human, we may ask ourselves "Have I done something so bad in my life that God is punishing me?" I'll admit it, that was a question I asked my husband, in tears, as I lay in the ultrasound room. But, I know the answer. God isn't punishing me. If nothing else, He is showing me that HE is in control, HE is "there", He is not leaving my side in this. HE is my hope, my strength. He holds the future. He new the days of my life before I was even formed in my mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13-16; my favorite versese). But, I'm still scared!! (I'm human!)
You know, my daughter felt God was leading her to take this semester off from Bible college and my husband and I thought she should just go back and finish up--- graduate in May with her class. Logically, it seemed to be the thing to do. Although I thought she should return to school, I respected her decision, because I'm not God. She has to listen to HIM first. And, in a small way, I thought ... maybe this is going to be a time of need in our family. Maybe that's why God's impressing upon Kaylee's heart to stay home right now. But, I wasn't thinking about myself... I was thinking about my elderly father's health, Kaylee's paternal grandpa's health concerns, and the upcoming arrival of my grandbaby. Maybe an extra pair of hands would be needed.
It's interesting that both of my grown children have come home at this time. God! He's got all bases covered. :-)
If you're reading my blog, please pray for me and my family. Tomorrow will be a big day. The results are coming.