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| If the shoe fits |
At the beginning of this it was October. Elliot had talked me into ordering him this cool pair of Adidas shoes. The tips of the laces are hot pink. A well-known pink ribbon is on the back. Elliot is interested in advocacy. He reads about equal rights, suicide prevention, and breast cancer awareness. My dear Gram is a breast cancer survivor. Elliot adores her. Who doesn't? He likes when the mighty players of the NFL wear pink socks during October games. Elliot was going to a football game at his high school. It was to be a "pink out" to raise awareness for breast cancer since it was (as Elliot made sure I knew) Breast Cancer Awareness Month. He asked me if I "have those tests moms are supposed to get." I hadn't. He told me I should and that I should during the month of October. I turned 43 in November. I had no real reason why I hadn't had a mammogram. I made an appointment. That appointment was November 2. My very first ever mammogram.
Some women get a call back. I got a call back. The nurse assured me it was because it was my first mammogram. They didn't have any previous pictures to compare. November 20 I went back for more imaging and a sonogram. I read on breastcancer.org that 20% of people called back have more than just "dense tissue." Only 20%. I knew the sonographer was measuring something when she started clicking. She didn't give any information though. Soon enough a radiologist came in. He stood in front of a computer screen and said words like "suspicious," "tumor," and then the word "cancer." I am not really a person to freak out. Freaking out rarely helps any situation. I looked at this radiologist with a strong side-eye. I sort of wanted to punch him. A biopsy was ordered for the following morning. The punching urge grew.
Two things about biopsies. One, it's painful. Two, the results take too long. After two long weeks I was told I had something called lobular carcinoma in situ (LCIS). Basically it means a very early cancer, like just at stage zero. That word carcinoma is ugly. It conjures up images Cinderella's step-mother. Everyone hates her and she's mean. Cancer is sort of like that. I was told I needed surgery.
I made a decision to seek opinions and information at the University of Virginia. I felt more comfortable at a place like UVA. We met with a breast surgeon January 23, almost three months after the biopsy, surgery was scheduled for February 14. There was more waiting. And, I had to tell my students.
The teachers at school made me feel so loved and supported prior to the surgery. The students wrote me notes, made signs, one created a painting. They sent me emails, and gave me hugs. The hugs. There were so many great hugs. 8th graders can be the most caring individuals on the face of the planet.
February 14 I had outpatient surgery. It was a lumpectomy to remove the tumor. The surgery went really well. My parents came to be with us and distract our dips. It was great. I've received the nicest text messages from friends. Dinners and flower arrangements were delivered. I am so cared about.
Today is one week post surgery. Dr. Brenin called this morning to go over the pathology report. It seems I am yet again defying the percentages. My cancer is a stage 1. Now it's called ductile carcinoma in situ (DCIS). Cinderella's step-mother reared her ugly head. The surgeon feels confident the lumpectomy removed the cancer. My options moving forward are a mastectomy, or five weeks of radiation coupled with five years of a drug to help prevent a reoccurrence or new cancer. I texted my best friend to update her. She texted back the "F" word. Seeing it made me feel loved. She gets my state of mind. It's going to take time to make this decision. There will be careful research and many talks with John, family, friends, and my higher power. It won't be easy. I don't have any answers and I do have a lot of questions, but I have so many people who care about me and John and our dips.
I also know this, I chose to listen to a 15 year old boy. If anyone reading this needs a nudge to make a needed doctor's appointment, let this be it. Those shoes Elliot wanted, and his interest in advocacy, changed my life. I am forever grateful. It's pretty amazing to raise a kid that can get his parents to do the right thing.
Thank you for reading.
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| painting from a student |
