After learning that I had breast cancer in my left breast,  I needed to have a lumpectomy. Shock is an understatement when I learned that I had cancer but now I needed another surgery.  My oncologist  felt confident that this would take care of the cancer, and I would need to take tamoxifen to prevent it returning. As much as I didn’t want to undergo another procedure, I wanted this saga to end. I scheduled the procedure for the week before my son’s third birthday.
Having breast cancer felt incredibly strange to me. When I looked in the mirror, I appeared healthy I felt fine despite a bout of sinus infections that I had around the same time. But nothing felt like I had cancer I knew that cancer grew inside me, and that made it difficult to see the bright side of life. Â
At this point, I hadn’t told many people about my diagnosis. My family knew but not much of anyone else. I decided it was time to be open about it. I wanted to educate others that mammograms weren’t just there to torture women and make facilities rich. They had a purpose, and it had saved my life. I, especially, wanted my friends who also had disabilities to go get a mammogram. Many women with disabilities die because getting a mammogram can be troublesome. However, they needed to know that they weren’t invincible.Â
I felt overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of support I received. People were praying for me and thinking about me from all over the place. I received cards, flowers, gifts, and balloons. Around Valentine’s Day, my uncle drove to my house on a very cold day just to give me roses from him and my aunt. I felt so touched. Â
Most importantly, I heard from family and friends that they had scheduled their mammograms. One of them was my sister. Hers needed a second look but thankfully she didn’t have cancer. I plan on to continue encouraging everyone to get mammograms. The earlier cancer is detected, the easier it is to eradicate the cells. Â
As far as my daily life, everything continued even though I wished there was a pause button. My husband was still in nursing school so I helped my daughter with homework, cared for my son, housework and writing. Sometimes I felt like I didn’t have time to process. Whenever we did watch TV as a family and a cancer commercial came on, we were somber. These commercials didn’t mean a lot to us before but now they meant everything. And, often at the end of the day, I collapsed in bed, looked at my husband and say, “I cannot believe that I have cancer!”
On the morning of my lumpectomy, a feeling of excitement washed over me. I wanted to get rid of it and couldn’t wait.  My husband gave me a button down shirt because they told me to wear one for making dressing easier. It was a very cold morning and we left early. The lumpectomy is an outpatient of procedure so I knew that I’d be back in a few hours.Â
Getting the lumpectomy went much smoother than the biopsy. I was familiar with the doctors and anesthesiologists. They remembered about my increased heart rate after my biopsy and knew how to control it. Everyone seemed sad that I came back since they found cancer but happy to help me now. Recovery afterwards seemed so much easier.
I had bruising and a scar, but all that would fade. I felt a little sad that I had a scar, and my left breast was a bit deflated. However, the pain seemed far less than the biopsy. All we needed now were the results, but that wouldn’t be yet.
A few days later, my daughter had her first spelling bee on my son’s birthday. The day after that we had a big birthday party for him. Everyone told me they were surprised how I good I looked and shocked that I didn’t postpone the party. It truly was an excellent weekend!
On the Tuesday after the party, my son just went for a nap and I started my to do list. Then the doctor called, but he didn’t sound happy. My heart sunk and my hands shook when he told me that the cancer wasn’t gone.
originally published by cerebral palsy news today in 2016 by Jessica Grono
