It was my 35 and 1/2 birthday. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of life. It was a regular Thursday and I was going to spend the day at the spa… after having what was to be my first and last mammogram. 35 and 1/2. I’m not sure what the recommended age for getting a mammogram and screening for breast cancer is now, but at the time it was early. Very early. The idea of having breast cancer, let alone surviving breast cancer, was laughable.
My doctor scheduled the mammogram as a precaution. I had an inverted nipple that was sometimes sore. He was 99% sure that it was just a cosmetic and the soreness came from chafing. Still, to be on the safe side, he sent me to get one anyway. And once it was over, it was out of sight, out of mind, and I was on my way to the spa.
Until the next day. Nothing good ever comes from a call from your doctor at 5:00 p.m. on a Friday. Especially when the message includes, “Call me on my cell as soon as you get this message.”
The mammogram showed a tumor in my left breast. The good news – at least at the time – was that it appeared small and contained. In other words, stage 0. Was I terrified? Of course! I just found out I had cancer. Was I determined to beat it? Absolutely! My daughter was 4. There was no way I was going to let her grow up without her mom.
As I went through my journey with breast cancer, I blogged. It was a way for me to express everything I was feeling, as well as a way to keep my family and friends up to date without having to repeat the same conversation over and over and over again. My blog was called “This Week I Learned.” Because this journey truly was a learning experience. Nothing was as I thought. The news was never as good as it originally seemed.
Years later, I went back and reread what I had written. I offered up my blog as a source of insight and what to expect to a friend recently diagnosed with breast cancer. When I reread it, I realized I hadn’t been completely honest. My lack of honesty had nothing to do with an attempt to lie to or hide from my family and friends. It was a protection of me measure. Maybe if I didn’t put it out there in black and white and admit the truth to everyone, it wouldn’t be true.
This blog is my attempt to show everyone – women and men alike – that surviving breast cancer can be done with laughter and dignity. It will follow as closely as possible my original blog, but this time with complete honesty. My hope is that I can provide some support, insight, and, yes, laughter to those who are battling breast cancer and to their caregivers. This is my story. My real story.
If you would like to jump ahead and read my story as I lived it at the time, you can do so here.