I was told that they would
contact me, they didn't say when. So I waited, and I waited. Then one
afternoon when I came in from work my son told me to call my doctor. It
took some doing to figure out exactly who to call and get in touch with
the right person at that number. Finally, I ended up with the news that
'something' had shown up on the images and that they wanted me to see a
surgeon. I was given my appointment date and location. I managed to get
through the conversation, but I wasn't happy. I was beginning to get
very nervous even as I denied it.
Before the appointment I drove out and found the office where I would
be going. It wasn't too difficult to find, now all I had to do was
remember how to get there on the required day. Which I did manage to
accomplish. I got off from work early and made my way there. When I
walked into the room and went to sign in there was a notice posted that
the doctor I was to see was running behind and all appointments would be
at least an hour behind. I could reschedule or I could wait. I chose to
wait.
when
I finally was taken back for my appointment I wasn't sure what to
expect. I did not expect the doctor that walked into that examining
room. With a unique way of dress and wonderfully witty personality I
liked her immediately. She checked out the images that had been sent
over to her then decided to do her own ultrasound. By the time the exam
was over she told me that she thought I should have a needle biopsy. I
thought that meant another appointment but instead she did it right
then. I was told to get dressed and that they would make an appointment
for me to come back for the results.
I returned to work, sore, and secretly worried. I had a week to wait,
quietly I hoped and prayed.. but within my mind, unspoken, I knew.
A week later I'm sitting in the doctor's office once again. This time
I'm being told that the results came back with the possibility that I
had cancer. It wasn't a definite, I needed to have a surgical biopsy. I
had never had surgery of any kind. In my mind all of the horror stories
that I had ever read about surgeries came rushing forward to haunt me.
Still, it was scheduled and I was given the first of a lot of paper work
to take care of. Leaving I had to go and tell them at work that I had a
surgical appointment.
I went to work, gave them the information and then tried to go back to
work. I was trying to not stand in a corner and shake. I was trying not
to allow it to consume me. I had to be strong. My husband was currently
out of work and I had too much to do trying to help him find a job. Once
I got home I told my husband about the appointment and upcoming
surgery. Then I began to help fill out online applications.
There was stuff to be done, but there was time. Time to mentally
prepare, time to accept, time to decide how I was going to handle this.
Telling myself over and over that there was no history of breast cancer
in my family did little to no good. Because the words repeated over and
over, there is always a first. I prayed that I wasn't that -first- even
as I knew I was. Prayers lead me to a comforting knowledge that no
matter what, I was not alone in this, all would be well. And that.. I
believed.
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