Looks like cancer, the dr said, leaving his bedside manner behind him as he cut into my left breast. “When the biopsy is back we will know for sure. But if it is, you’ll have lots of decisions to make.”
Really? I think I only have one—get it out of me! I don’t want to have cancer, and I think it is a universal fact—no one wants this disease, but 1 in 5 women in CT will get it.
I waited the five days to know. But, I knew. My mother had two bouts of breast cancer and I’ve been getting my boobs squished since I have 35. Almost twenty years…But I was amazed at my reaction when the dr said it. I was calm. I have no idea if it’s my believe in God, The Secret or my angels that will get me through. Or, am I just too numb to realize what is happening inside of my body. The only pain I ever felt was leaving my bra on too long and the relief I have as I flinged the bra to other side of the room. In fact, I never felt any pain in my breast before the biopsy.
I think about the pain as I go to bed and lay on my stomach—my boobs squished under me and I wonder how long before I will be whole again. I don’t have a fear of dying and I have a feeling this is going be a very good time in my life. First, I will find out who my true friends are…even though everyone on the planet will be nice to me because I have cancer. Enemies, wishing me dead (there is a lot of Republicans in New Britain) will now have to be nice to me. Sucks for them!
Me? As I wait for the Brac gene testing (if Angeline Jolie and I have the same fate) I think what my new breasts will look like. I can have a nipple—but if it’s not going to be sensitive—what is the point? I will be able to wear T-shirts without anyone knowing if I’m cold. And, I will never have to wear a bra again. It’s a big price to pay---but I’m sure everything will work out.
Two more weeks before the test results come back. Everyone asks, what can I do for you? But truly there are only a handful of people who really care—my true friends…But wait---there is more.
My friends have rallied around me. The first night of knowing I was treated to dinner. Since that first night I have been treated to dinner, lunch, a play, a movie and a possible trip to New York City.
Everyone asks, “what can I do”, and “if there is anything I can do”—but when push came to shove and I asked for hard candy the night before my colososposy test: One friend was naked and getting into the shower after a long day, one was paying her bills and one couldn’t do it until the next week—so everything is really normal. One friend’s sister asked me to stop talking about my breast cancer because it makes HER uncomfortable.
No one really has taken me up on my offer of : buy me a car, get a landscape artist for my back yard, how about a handyman to put on my screen door or a nice vacation? No one has taken me up on any of these…so I think I need to lessen my expectation and think maybe some hard candy would be nice.