While sitting at my annual physical appointment, my doctor said, “Oh, and you are due for your annual mammogram!” I cringed because no woman, that I know of, likes getting a mammogram. But, I wanted to stay healthy and would definitely regret having breast cancer that was too far along to do anything to get rid of it. My husband and children especially need me around for longer than that!
I took my script home, and later on during the week, called to schedule my mammogram appointment. My previous one occured about six months after I had my son. Everything turned out normal then so I didn’t expect anything different this time. Just a test that took up some time – no big deal, really.
I went mid October. My circumstances might be a little differently than someone else because I have cerebral palsy and I have difficulty staying still especially when my body feels pain. However, I did the absolute best I could. The woman doing my screening wanted me to wait around for someone else to look at my image. I didn’t panic because I chalked it up to a blurry image due to movement.
The person never came so they said that they would send my scan to the doctor and they’d get back to me if needed. I didn’t forget about the day, but I didn’t dwell on the what ifs as of yet. I just figured if they would see a problem, they’d tell me soon. And, about a week later, I received a letter and a telephone call from my doctor asking me to go get a follow-up mammogram as soon as possible.
I decided to go to another imaging place because I wasn’t too impressed with how the nurses and techs talked to me. They talked to me as if I were a child instead of a forty-year old woman. I’ll never forget that day. It was raining, I had a miserable head cold and just was feeling terrible. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and everyone was busy discussing family plans. My attendant and I arrived early and sat in the waiting room.
Luckily, the facility had a much bigger changing room for my wheelchair to get into. Then we sat in another waiting room with magazines. Some magazines were specifically for women with breast cancer. I thought about the other women in the waiting room with me and hoped they didn’t hear any bad news today. What an awful time to hear such a diagnosis before a major family holiday. Never thought that it could be me.
The technicians were very friendly and respectful of my disability. One technician said that they felt bad making me go through it but I kept thinking to let’s just do it and get a good clear image so I could go home and put this behind me until next year. But, no, they saw something so they wanted me to have an ultrasound.
I used to feel happy thoughts of ultrasounds being a mother of two precious children. However, this one sounded cold and uncomfortable. I had to wait with my attendant in a small overly warm room until they could fit me in. My cold medicine was wearing off, and I was just praying that everything would be fine. It felt like an eternity waiting.
Finally, it was my turn to go into another dark, small, overly warm room. My motorized wheelchair can tilt to a recline position so I didn’t need to transfer from my wheelchair. The room had two techs and were nice. Then, they called in an oncologist and I knew something wasn’t right. She looked, and then very nicely, explained everything to me.
As her words fell from her lips, my world was changing. A business card handed to me to meet with an oncologist to schedule a biopsy. It would be an outpatient procedure and I’d be put under anesthesia.
I became one of the millions of women who embark down the pink journey of breast cancer. Take my hand as you read my column and we will navigate it together.
