Did you say the "C" word to me?

February 26, 2004

Today I found out I have breast cancer.

I wasn’t going to cry. I had made up my mind to be strong even if the pathology report came back with an unexpected cancer finding. But while the doctor continued talking to me after the cancer word, I felt my eyes well up with tears. I valiantly tried to continue to listen. I heard his words but getting past the cancer word was difficult. The word cancer kept echoing in my mind. I am now one of the many women afflicted with breast cancer? I remember when I was in a head on collision with a drunk driver. I could hardly believe it. Drunk drivers hit people I don’t know. But it happened to me. And now, breast cancer has happened to me.

As I walked to my car after leaving the doctor’s office, my emotional dam burst and I sobbed loudly. I stumbled along on the rain slick pavement to my car, not caring who might see or hear me. My thoughts railed against the cancer diagnosis. Not cancer. Not now. Not ever. I have been enjoying my life. I am growing old with the husband of my youth. I am enjoying my friendships with my grown up daughters. I love being grandma, having little people around again and buying toys. I like having a part time job, being challenged by my three hour class, having lunch dates with special friends, driving around town in my dream car while listening to my music, having people over to the house, traveling occasionally, being needed by my family…. the list goes on.

I realize my life isn’t suddenly over. I am the same person as I was yesterday, before the C word. But today the cancer word has thrown me into another world, a world that will take me out of my comfortable routine. My life will not be my own for a long while. There will be treatment regimes that will interrupt my day. Will people treat me differently? Will they be at a loss as to what to say to me? Behind their kind words will they be thinking, “I am glad that isn’t happening to me.” I feel like I have been set apart.

I was profoundly sad to give my family the news. I tried to sound calm so that I did not upset anyone. I believe I need to be an example of strength in this time of trouble. If I manage bravely, it will help them accept the news. I regret this news will forever change the lives of my daughters. Maternal breast cancer history has always loomed big on the list of risk factors for breast cancer. Now they will have to say yes to breast cancer in the family. It grieves me greatly to pass this medical history on to them.

I know I will deal with this and in fact am already doing so. For now, I will dry my eyes. I will take it one moment at a time. I am thankful I have always gotten yearly mammograms. I am thankful for the medical personnel that spotted the change in my mammogram. I am thankful for the radiologist and his persistence in trying to pinpoint this small spot and making the way clear for the surgeon to remove it. (Even though it was a tortuous procedure with the needles and nine-inch wires) I am thankful my cancer was at the beginning stage of detectable cancers. I am thankful the lumpectomy done almost a week ago has already removed the cancer invader from my body. I am thankful the perimeters of the mass were free of cancer cells, meaning my surgeon got it all. I am thankful for the many ways the Lord has already met needs in my life that were yet unknown and unasked. And I am most thankful for the loving support of family and friends.