I didn’t know for certain I had breast cancer until December 18, 2019. But I “knew” it well before that. Whitney from my doctor’s office called a week or so after my mammogram to tell me I needed to contact a radiologist for further diagnostic work – I wasn’t terribly worried; this had happened before. The radiologist couldn’t see me for a bit over a week, and I was determined not to worry in the meantime. I was extremely busy with work, and planning a long awaited trip to Western KY for the Christmas holidays with all my family. No worrying allowed. After reaching out to my closest friends and my cousins to ask them to pray for me, I got back to work.
One morning while scrolling Twitter, a tweet from Beth Moore – my favorite Bible study author – stopped me cold. It was a 140 character plea to God: “Lord, help my friends who are sick with cancer”… and I cannot explain it. I just knew. And for so many reasons, I’m thankful for that. I began at that moment to process and make peace with what was about to happen. I went downstairs to my husband’s office to make sure the surgeon I wanted to see was in our insurance network. She wasn’t, so we were able to make the change to our policy in time. I reached out to an old high school friend who had just finished chemotherapy from her battle that had begun the year before. And I prayed. I decided not to “borrow trouble” as Mamaw always said. I followed my high school friend Beth’s advice, and spent time meditating and centering my mind on healing. There’s no explanation for the calm I experienced, other than God was holding me still. I know not everyone shares my belief, and that’s okay. I held a certainty – before I even had a diagnosis – that even though I was going to get “bad” news, I would be okay. It would be hard, but I would be prepared.
*****
For the life of me, I don’t know why the mammography rooms are so dark. The very sweet technician prepared me for my diagnostic mammogram and said “if we don’t see anything, you can go on home. But if we do, we’ll need to take you back for an ultrasound”. They saw something.
Next came the cold gel and the monitor circling in wide swaths, slowly narrowing to hone in on one area. “Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.” Like a metal detector. It was so cold in that dark, dark room, lying there with my right arm above my head while the machine pinpointed my nemesis. Not a word from the technician. The doctor walked in and said I would need to have a needle biopsy, and they could try to work me in that day; would I like them to do that? Yes, I would. When he came back and told me they could see me late that afternoon, I point blank asked him “do I have cancer?” “Yes, I think you do.”
I had researched Dr. Google enough to have a faint idea of what I was being shown on the film, and have at least a rough understanding of what the radiologist described. I had a very tiny “interruption” of breast tissue. It appeared almost like a bullet pushing through and lodging in my breast. I was assured it was extremely small – 5mm or less – and should be “easily dealt with”. And it could still be a cyst, but presented as a cancerous lump.
I had a real estate walkthrough that afternoon and a closing the next day. Based on everything the radiologist told me, and what I had learned from Dr. Google, this very tiny lump needed to be precisely pinpointed and biopsied. It could easily be missed, and I could get a false-negative. I decided to go straight to my surgeon.