Looking back on it from this perspective I can see it more
intellectually, but the emotions of that time haven't changed. The time
distance makes them more easy to bear but I know that they will forever
be a part of me, for that I am actually thankful.
When the doctor told me that I needed to have a mammogram I was
mentally flippant. The thoughts were basically, "sure, no problem." To
my knowledge no one in my family had ever had breast cancer so no
history, no worries. Ignorance is not bliss.
My only concern at the time was finding the imaging center as I
have absolutely no sense of direction. After all, I am the person who
coming back from a weekend trip one time missed the one and only turn I
had to make and had us many miles out of the way before I realized my
error. I can and often do work myself up into an unnecessary mental
state worrying about things. As it was, I had time though to find the
place and believe me I went out of my way to find it before hand. I
asked directions, I searched on line and I drove out to the location and
around to the side of the building where it was located. Still on the
appointed day I was a nervous wreck until I pulled into that parking
area where I was to go, parked and entered the building.
Now my only concern was for the coming embarrassment, discomfort
and pain. I am a self-conscious person who is very uncomfortable when it
comes to body parts being exposed even to medical personnel. That and
the fact that I had after all heard all of the horror stories connected
with mammograms. Walking down that wide hallway I had a somewhat better
understanding of those walking that last mile. The way was well lit but
my fear made it dark.
Signing in at the window I then moved through the doors and
entered the waiting area. This was a very comfortably decorated room.
Designed to make one feel at home with an understated elegance. I was
still nervous. I tore up a tissue, I read and reread those little
informational cards- not remembering a thing on them and I shifted
repeatedly in my chair. After waiting, called to fill out insurance
information and then waiting a little more I was called back. Shown to a
dressing room and told to strip to the waist and dress in a nice fat,
fluffy robe. That done I sat down to wait and tremble. If trembling were
a weight loss tool I would have lost several pounds sitting in that
room. While I waited all manner of thoughts flowed through my mind.
Thoughts that were to some degree expected and logical and some that
came from way out in left field that were the manifestations of a
frantic mind. To some degree- man,y if not most -of us fear the
unknown. Especially when you know others that love to share all of the
horror stories they know, whether personal or one of those it happened
to..' stories. The mind and one's imagination can create
havoc. Combined, they can take you to places where there is no reason to
go. Only when you have the mental aptitude to keep those fears and
thoughts in check are you prevented from acting out physically. Right
when my fear was reaching its crescendo I heard my name called through
the door. Even though I had known it was coming I was still startled
from my mental ramblings and jumped slightly. Standing, I took a deep
breath and opened the door. It was waiting.
Following the technician down the short hallway I was giving
myself a mental pep-talk. It would be fine, no worries, no pain, no
problems. Self wasn't listening very well. Passing through a door with
warning signs around it I looked at one of the strangest machines that I
had ever seen, and I didn't like it. The technician wasted no time and
as she instructed I followed to the best of my ability. All the while
babbling on, making the same comments that she had probably heard
thousands of times before and some that could come only from someone
like me who has an unusual sense of humor and unique oddness about them.
Even through all of that she was very professional and I soon lost most
of the embarrassment and found that the discomfort was not nearly as
bad as I had feared. It was definitely not something that I would want
to deal with on any schedule other than once a year, but I was not in
the excruciating pain I had built of the fear
for. When she told me afterward that I may get called back due to
nothing to compare to I wasn't worried. I had done the mammogram thing,
it was over, it was good I was about to go back to my so-called normal
life and not worry about this again until next year.
That flippant attitude continued even when I did receive the
message and returned for the images they needed. It was the day after
Thanksgiving, mom and I were going shopping and my thoughts were on all
of the great deals we were missing not on what was taking place. If
anything I was feeling slightly annoyed. Mom was with me as once this
was finished we were going to head out and find out what deals might be
left. Impatience more than anything fueled my emotions as I sat, waited,
followed, undressed and entered the imaging room. I was annoyed right
up until they only took images of one side. I was told to sit and wait
while the image was shown to a doctor. Another set of images later I was
told the same thing. After the third set I was slightly concerned,
especially when I was told they needed an ultrasound. Fear is like a
kudzu plant. It starts out as a tiny sprout and then grows
uncontrollably when allowed. Walking back down the
hallway to wait, listening to the technician actually babbling on about
shopping that first tiny sprout was trying to peek out. I don't like
being afraid. It is not a comfortable emotion. I do not ride those
thrill rides at amusement parks partly because of that. I don't like
heights, I don't like feeling like I'm falling and I don't like not
knowing what others do especially when it comes to me and my health.
Even my mother who was still waiting for me picked up on the babbling
and wondered.
Lead back to another area of the building I followed instructions
and waited yet again in another cold room. When you are beginning to
feel fear, a cold room is one of the last places you want to be. It only
amplifies the trembling. The actual ultra-sound wasn't a problem. I
watched the images on the screen and watched as she returned time and
time again to the same area. She knew what she was looking at, I didn't.
Again the unknown and the fear that comes with it sprouted a bit
higher.
I was told that I would need to see a surgeon as there was
"something" showing up. My attempt at shrugging it off in agreement
didn't quite have the same effect that it had in the beginning. Mom and I
didn't go shopping. The mood to find bargains was no longer there.
Instead in the back of my mind was the question, do I have cancer?
I believe that fear, nerves, worry all have a cancer type affect on
one. It grows, consuming one's thoughts and actions. You try to put it
out of your mind, you try to push it aside only to have it return time
and again. You go on about your business, taking care of your daily life
and all the while its still there hounding you.
I loved my surgeon immediately. She has the best personality and
style of dress. She is her own self with a wonderful attitude. I had
worried about this meeting. I tend to say odd things at odd times and
have people give me 'that look' letting me know they wonder if my
keepers know that I'm running loose. In this doctor I found somewhat of a
kindred spirit. She examined the images and told me that they-the
almighty They- thought something was there. She showed me where the
'something' was and that it didn't have a defined appearance. That was
when mouth opened and I told her it looked like a cat. She glanced at me
and then the image and reluctantly agreed. She told me that she wanted
to do her own ultra-sound. When I asked her if it would really be a cat
scan she said "No..its an ultra-sound." but when the assistant she
called came in she told the assistant that she wanted to do a 'cat-scan'
I loved the expression on the girl's face. It brought
that Kudzu in my mind down a notch. Even when the ultra-sound showed
the same thing that 'they' had found I wasn't really too terribly
concerned. When she told me that she wanted to do a needle biopsy I
shrugged. I thought we would set up an appointment. Nope, she did it
right then.
When we allow emotions to control us they can hurt. Broken hearts,
separation and loneliness, fear of any kind, deceit of a friend..but
that needle going in and the after effects...now that was pain and not
merely an emotional one. The sample would be sent off and we would have
the results in a week. that fear Kudzu plant can grow a lot in a week if
you allow it. I was doing my best not to allow it. When it came back
showing the possibility and that she needed to do a surgical biopsy I
knew.
How many emotions does one actually have? Joy, love, hope, faith,
trust, fear, hate, worry. You could start naming them and with all their
variations never reach the end of the list. That was what I was
feeling. I returned to work a mental mess. The foremost and strongest
emotion was that I did not want to deal with this. I did not want to go
through with this. I was not happy, I was angry, and I was a little
afraid. Kudzu grows quickly.
Back in a far corner of the department I gave in and leaned over a
box waited to be filled and prayed with all of the passion that I could
pray. I did NOT want this. I am unashamedly a Christian. I believe in
the Hope. When I prayed I was answered. Just not in the way I expected.
Chastisement of the Spirit gets your attention, but it let me know I was
not alone. The fear that had been eating at me- left. The creeping
Kudzu plant wilted and fell away.
The surgical biopsy was an inconvenience that I had to deal with to
get to the real ball game. Questions and tests and presurgery stuff out
of the way my husband took me to the outpatient building and we waited.
It was raining that morning and it fit my mood. I had to be here but I
didn't want to be. I was only slightly nervous, mainly because I was
once again dealing with the unknown. I had never had any surgery before
this was new ground for me. Everyone was so very nice though, my fears
and concerns eased. I knew what they would find, but now I was girded
for battle, I was not alone.
When the biopsy showed the cancer I did not fall apart. I did not
panic. I did not cry, moan or curse the fates. I matter -of- factly told
her that she knew what and where it was- go get it. Game on.
The most difficult part in all of this so far was that I was going
to have to tell my family that I had cancer. My husband was on a bus
headed for a potential job. I called him and broke the news over the
phone. I knew he didn't want to wait, he had made me promise to call. He
was concerned, wanted to know if I wanted him to come back but I told
him there was nothing he could do, continue on and see about the job. My
mother took it better--or hid it better-- than I had hoped. My brother
that lives the closest- he took it hard. He refused to look at me at
first. I guess when you are facing our mortality for the first time it
does make one confused and distressed. It took a few minutes but I
finally got him past that. It was going to be okay. I knew though that I
didn't want to deal with anything like the same reactions at work so I
purchased a pink ball cap with the awareness ribbon on the front and
wore that to work the next day. Of course it
was questioned as I do not generally wear a cap but it broke all the
ice and work went on and those who had dealt with this before me rallied
to my side.
There is a lot more preparations that need to be made for surgery
than I had ever realized. How many times can they ask you the same
questions? How many different people need the same information? How many
times must you have the same tests? Why do MRI's have to be so
frightening? Well, at least to me and my not so lovely claustrophobia.
Why are hospital rooms- any and all hospital rooms so freaking cold? I
do really love those heated blankets though. A lot of different people
came in as I was preapring for the surgery. Each with their own purpose.
Each very friendly and very professional. Each managing to calm my
nerves a little bit more. I wasn't so much afraid. I knew what they were
going to do, and it wasn't as if they were doing back or heart surgery,
but that level of concern and fear was determined not to be ignored. I
think that they have the timing of that anesthesia down to an art form.
Both times the minute I entered the operating room
the first and last thing I saw was that bank of lights- then it was
lights out.
Waking up after surgery is an adventure in itself. Disorientation
is not fun. Trying to figure out where you are and why you are there.
Who is that calling your name and why are so many people staring at you
expectantly? Getting dressed and going home is always a relief whether
it was a major or minor reason for your visit. Sleepy and nauseated from
the anesthesia I went straight to bed and pretty much stayed there. I
got up a couple times to talk with people and let them know I was
doing okay but for the most part I lost two days. The day of and the day
after the surgery. Now the real fun would begin.
Once the bandages were removed and I had healed up slightly I was
sent to see an oncologist. Another professional type person that I had
to see and try to figure out their personality and find out where the
lines were drawn as to what part of my sense of humor would be accepted
and what would get me those so familiar looks. He turned out to be a
very nice doctor and gentleman. He, too, had a wonderfully quick, witty
and bright sense of humor. Amazing- but not surprising- how blessings
are given. The first visit was a fact finding one. Afterward I would
get my schedule. It still had not been determined if I would need
chemotherapy. I wasn't afraid too much of the radiation..and I wasn't
afraid really of the chemotherapy. My pride simply did not like the idea
of losing my hair. Even though I complained about it for various
reasons on a regular basis, it was my hair and I didn't want to lose it.
Pride is a silly thing actually.
Turns out my fears were relieved and I didn't have to face that threat
as I did not need chemotherapy- only the radiation.
Fear of the unknown crept up again on that first day. I had no idea
what was about to happen and I did not in any way look forward to it.
The treatments turned out to be not so bad in themselves. It was the
after effects that got me. Each day I grew more tired. Each day the
weariness threatened my ability to function. Every single step was
difficult. They were acts of sheer determination. I had no energy,
thoughts and emotions took too much to feel. I was a machine doing what I
had to and only what I had to just to get by. I had to totally change
my diet. No more chocolate- no junk food period. The processed sugars
only made the exhaustion worse. I allowed myself one cup of coffee a
day- the rest of the time it was water. I was always thirsty, downing
bottle after bottle of water a day. I carried one with me at all times. I
had to learn to allow others to do for me. I- the person who prided
herself on her self efficiency had to have help doing
simple things. People I did not know who were reading the columns that
were running in the paper would see me attempting to lift something and
would rush to my aid. I received multitudes of cards and letters from
people. Strange these feelings.
Cancer can and does give you a feeling of isolation. You know you
are not the only person to have dealt with it. You are not the first and
you won't be the last. But-- this is you. The fear that tries so hard
to consume you. The loneliness in those times when you let down your
guard, the exhaustion that you fight, the sickness from treatments. All
battles you must fight and even when you have people at your side, they
can only do so much. They can lift things for you, they can cook meals,
do housework, drive you places...but they cannot fight the battle. As
your body fights against the invader your mind and heart fight against
the emotions that threaten.
The entire time I was in my particular battle even as my family and
friends were around, they could not be around all of the time. I found a
healing presence waiting for me on the many long walks that I began to
take. Always along the route, and I took the exact same route daily,
there was something special waiting for me. I found flowers that I had
never noticed before, I found an amazing variety of insects. Deer,
raccoon and opossum appeared on various occasions. There was always
something amazing waiting to remind me that I was not taking this
journey alone. There in lay my peace.
All of this was in 2008. Still today I can and do look back on
that. It is a forever part of me. I faced and dealt with the emotional
side of this thing. I was able to write about it then and write about it
now. I have shared and continue to share my experience not for pity or
attention, but to let others know that it is something that can be
faced, can be beaten. Do I ever worry about it returning? I wouldn't be
human if I didn't..but if it does. I know who is on my side.
