How many times have we forgotten to take care of ourselves? We may go through the motions of getting regular checkups and fixing things that manifest in actual pain but we forget or put off the dreaded annual mammogram despite the statistics that early detection saves lives.
From my experience as a mammographer and as a health educator I should have known better. I routinely asked my patients if they were performing self breast examination and when was their last mammogram? Then I would finish my paperwork, and run home to be a mom and wife. I never asked myself the same questions.
I had no family history of breast cancer, so I chose the “every two year” route. One evening, as I drove past a
provided the staff with a contact number. The receptionist innocently assured me that there usually was no need to call; the Dr. only called back women who had cancer. After the weekend I received that call. This set my life into a spiral of decisions which would affect my life and the life of my family.
The next step was an ultrasound guided biopsy. When the pathology report came in I received a call from my surgeon as I drove into the parking lot at work. He checked to make sure I was in a “safe place” where I could speak. Sitting in the parking lot he shared the results. I never cry, yet through my tears I asked a few questions. The last thing he said to me was Kathy, you are going to go through hell, but you will be OK. I learned that my surgeon was compassionate and he gave me the courage to forge on.
My surgery began with a needle localization of the mass, and surgical lumpectomy, and sentinel node dissection. The results were hopeful. A 0.9 cm mass was removed, there was no nodal involvement. The cancer was estrogen receptor positive with ductal in situ and some interductal component. Stage 1. But I was just 50, and there was an interductal component. My
decision was made clear, I would become the warrior against breast cancer. My treatment was a course of chemotherapy
followed by radiation and the hormonal suppressant therapy for 5 years.
The chemotherapy started about 10 weeks later. My course was lighter than others I heard of. Chemo progressively made me feel worse. My white count plummeted and the blood building injections to stimulate the growth of blood cells in the long bones gave me pain. The first time I experienced this I thought I was having a heart attack! My daughter came with me to the last treatment. In honesty if she had not come, I may have not gone through with it. She was my rock. I learned I didn’t have to be alone.
Radiation followed with 37 radiation treatments. In the waiting area I met several women in my situation, most of them were older. From these women I learned courage and saw the strength of other women warriors, who were not about to let cancer win. Life was their strength. They came with their daughters, and granddaughters. Women in solidarity, in care and with love.
Breast cancer is a BIG TEACHER. I have learned that we have to take care of ourselves. Take the time for you: get your mammogram, do the self exam, love deeper, speak sweeter, enjoy the simple things in life.
When I am asked today if I am cured, I say, YES! But I have learned to remain vigilant, a warrior with a league of sisters who have learned so much about life from this insipid disease.
