Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer. For as long as I live, I will not forget the exact moment I heard the news....
On August 19, 2013 my doctor looked at me sympathetically and said:
"The lump is indicative of cancer."
I can still hear her tone of voice. Those words lingered in the air.
The previous Friday I had what I suspected would be a normal mammogram. A lump was detected earlier in the summer and having been through this before, expected it to be no big deal. I pushed off making a doctor's appointment and tests. During the ultra sound, the radiologist came in and began to do a second set of images. When he finished and as I was lying there topless, covered in boob jelly, he told me that I needed more images, an MRI and was referring me to a surgeon.
"Woah! Woah woah" I said "I have been through these tests before and no one has even said that. You are scaring me."
"This lump is abnormal and we need to move quickly." He replied.
Then I was stuck back in the waiting room surrounded by people, with what seemed like an eternity to have another mammogram. I struggled to keep it together and the minute I got back into my car, bawled my eyes out. Over the weekend, I was stressed but thought it was an error. Everything was going to be fine... They were just being cautious... It was a benign tumour or something like that... Everyone was creating a panic for nothing...
Then on the Monday I returned a call from my family Dr and was asked to come into her office.
Laura wouldn't let me go alone.
The second my Doctor told me the news, I broke down, sobbing; and as she hugged me, apologized profusely.
I tried to gain some sense of composure, threw on my over sized sunglasses (Thank God!) and walked back out to the waiting room. Of course Laura was anxious to know what the results were but I pulled her out of the building before I told her. And sobbed uncontrollably in the parking lot.
In retrospect I have no clue why my Doctor apologized - (although afterwards she reminded that when I first told her about the lump she had joked "Watch it be cancer") Both she and my surgeon had both said that to touch the lump, you would not expect it to be cancerous. It was very mobile which apparently is unusual for a cancerous growth. But wanting to be safe than sorry she sent me for a mammogram. A few years earlier I had found a small lump and wanted it checked. My family doctor at the time didn't think it was anything serious but the lump changed size and I returned alarmed. He still did not request a mammogram but I went to a walk in clinic and asked to be referred for a mammogram. In the end it turned out to be nothing but I felt that he wasn't taking care of my needs and switched to me present day family doctor. If I was still under his care last year, things may have turned out much differently for me and perhaps for the worst. To the touch it didn't seem like a big deal but the image of the lump in the ultra sound was in the shape of star. When a tumour has little legs coming out of it, it pretty much is a text book case of cancer. I have my ultra sound images. I know exactly what they are talking about.
I couldn't be alone for the following two weeks. I tried my best to work during the day and then took turns spending evenings with my friends. Lying in bed alone at nights; my mind constantly drifted to the worst case scenario and they were not healthy thoughts.
The day I met with the surgeon, she confirmed that the ultra sound results were pretty cut and dried. It was likely cancerous but the jury was still out on the lymph nodes. Initially she suspected surgery and radiation.
My surgeon looked me straight in the eye and said "Now if you listen to me and do exactly what I tell you, everything will be fine."
I walked away feeling the most confident than I had in weeks. I started to become more calm and realized that I wasn't the first person to be diagnosed with cancer and I wouldn't be the last. I wasn't going to let it get me.
Then the battery of tests began...MRI, more ultra sounds, biopsies, meet with the surgeon, blood tests, etc etc - all of these tests are standard procedure and with each test brought about the same result: Cancer. Eventually I said "Enough already. We already know I have cancer. Just take it out!" Finally, the day after my birthday, my doctor called to confirm the final test result: Cancer.
Over the past year, I have reflected on those few days, post diagnosis. I have never in my entire life felt that vulnerable, scared and helpless and in the end, it was all for nothing. I survived the past year and expect to stick around much longer. The year has flown by and as I mentioned in my last entry, it was one of the most incredible learning experiences ever.
Fuck you cancer!
You thought you would win but you will never win. You showed me how strong I really was. You were a catalyst that showered me with love and support from all of my family and friends. You opened my eyes to all the wonderful things that I should be thankful for. You introduced me to the most amazing set of vixens. You inspired me to want to achieve greater things in life.
You may have invaded my body and you may invade it again but you will never break my spirit!
