Saturday, March 24, 2007
February 22, 2007
There comes a day or moment in time when something happens to us that changes our lives forever. Some call it being blind sided, others call it being hit head on by a train. I liken my life changing moment as driving down a highway and hitting a hairpin turn that was unmarked, unlit, without off ramps or rest stops, the high beams of my car being of no help. I was literally driving into the unknown.
For me, my moment was November 6, 2006. The day my primary care doctor called and told me that the results from my breast biopsy from the previous Thursday weren’t good. I had been diagnosed with early stage breast cancer, (Invasive Lobular Cancer with LCIS), and what did I want to do. (Thank God, I was sitting down because at the same time the tears streamed down for face at hearing the results, I felt as though all the blood was running out of me, past my feet, my legs feeling like liquid jello.)
‘What did I want to do now’, she asked? I was at a loss or words. All I could hear in my mind over and over was the “C” word --- CANCER! People died from cancer my mind kept telling me. I am too young to die---what about the boys, I mean even at 17 & 21 they still needed me---and what about Robin, my husband?
Ironically, one of my jobs at the hospital I work at was scheduling breast biopsies and part of the procedures done for breast surgeries. For a year and a half I helped women of all ages with getting them scheduled for their procedures. I was always empathic to their fears and concerns, always letting them talk it out, cry, or wait if they were still unsure as to what they really wanted to do. Reminding them that 80-85% of all biopsies reports came back benign.
But for all the knowledge I had concerning this, I never really thought about what happened to the other 15-20% that came back with a bad report. Until now. All the protocols I knew in my head went out the window the moment it happened to me. What my mind knew, my heart would not accept or could not believe. Did breast cancer run in my family they asked? My paternal grandmother had it in her late 60’s but they said that wasn’t it. Anyone else? No.
Not wanting to deal with it any longer than possible, I saw a breast surgeon the same day I received the news. I was scheduled for a left breast lumpectomy with needle localization and sentinel node biopsy for two weeks later---the week of Thanksgiving. I thought get in---get out--- get back to normal. NOT!
Five days before my scheduled surgery, I received a call from my insurance company stating that they would not approve an out of network surgeon. But the surgeon I chose was the only one I had ever considered should I have found myself needing of his services. Everything came to a complete halt as I dealt with the fact that I would have to go elsewhere for my care.
A new surgeon was recommended to me in a town 40 miles away. I scheduled myself for an appointment to see her. Not really wanting to go some place else but having to do so, the only thing I remember from my first appointment was her using the word MASTECTOMY. Whoa…back the truck up!!! NO one had ever mentioned, let alone used, the “M” word before now. The thought made my mind spiral into a tail spin at all the ramifications of that would mean to me physically as well as emotionally. I sat there and began to cry.
There comes a day or moment in time when something happens to us that changes our lives forever. Some call it being blind sided, others call it being hit head on by a train. I liken my life changing moment as driving down a highway and hitting a hairpin turn that was unmarked, unlit, without off ramps or rest stops, the high beams of my car being of no help. I was literally driving into the unknown.
For me, my moment was November 6, 2006. The day my primary care doctor called and told me that the results from my breast biopsy from the previous Thursday weren’t good. I had been diagnosed with early stage breast cancer, (Invasive Lobular Cancer with LCIS), and what did I want to do. (Thank God, I was sitting down because at the same time the tears streamed down for face at hearing the results, I felt as though all the blood was running out of me, past my feet, my legs feeling like liquid jello.)
‘What did I want to do now’, she asked? I was at a loss or words. All I could hear in my mind over and over was the “C” word --- CANCER! People died from cancer my mind kept telling me. I am too young to die---what about the boys, I mean even at 17 & 21 they still needed me---and what about Robin, my husband?
Ironically, one of my jobs at the hospital I work at was scheduling breast biopsies and part of the procedures done for breast surgeries. For a year and a half I helped women of all ages with getting them scheduled for their procedures. I was always empathic to their fears and concerns, always letting them talk it out, cry, or wait if they were still unsure as to what they really wanted to do. Reminding them that 80-85% of all biopsies reports came back benign.
But for all the knowledge I had concerning this, I never really thought about what happened to the other 15-20% that came back with a bad report. Until now. All the protocols I knew in my head went out the window the moment it happened to me. What my mind knew, my heart would not accept or could not believe. Did breast cancer run in my family they asked? My paternal grandmother had it in her late 60’s but they said that wasn’t it. Anyone else? No.
Not wanting to deal with it any longer than possible, I saw a breast surgeon the same day I received the news. I was scheduled for a left breast lumpectomy with needle localization and sentinel node biopsy for two weeks later---the week of Thanksgiving. I thought get in---get out--- get back to normal. NOT!
Five days before my scheduled surgery, I received a call from my insurance company stating that they would not approve an out of network surgeon. But the surgeon I chose was the only one I had ever considered should I have found myself needing of his services. Everything came to a complete halt as I dealt with the fact that I would have to go elsewhere for my care.
A new surgeon was recommended to me in a town 40 miles away. I scheduled myself for an appointment to see her. Not really wanting to go some place else but having to do so, the only thing I remember from my first appointment was her using the word MASTECTOMY. Whoa…back the truck up!!! NO one had ever mentioned, let alone used, the “M” word before now. The thought made my mind spiral into a tail spin at all the ramifications of that would mean to me physically as well as emotionally. I sat there and began to cry.
