The Shock Of It All

On February 6, 2007 I was told I had cancer in both breasts. What had started out as an annual mammogram had turned into a nightmare. I don't cry. Very seldom do I even tear up. I was scheduled for an MRI February 12. The report came back that there was an "enhanced" area in the right breast. Another MRI was scheduled for February 19. Then I was told there were two "enhanced" areas in the right breast. On February 20, my younger daughter's 38th birthday, the results came back with carcinoma in both "enhanced" areas. Surgery was already scheduled for March 8. With three tiny areas in the right breast, that meant a masectomy. I still wanted a lumpectomy on the left breast if that was possible. There had been no "enhanced" areas in the left breast. The medical team met that Thursday morning, February 22, and said that the masectomy and lumpectomy were approved for treatment.

My younger daughter, Annie, has called me nearly every day, and consults with a massage client of hers who is an oncologist. Jessica, my older daughter, has called four times since the original diagnosis, and regularly answers my email. This keeps me going.

I don't have a lot of close friends, but the ones I have are solid. Two will be there for me the day of my surgery. A friend of my mother, who is 91, will take my mother to the hospital late in the afternoon. A friend from Berkeley, California, will fly to Minneapolis March 10 and be met by another friend from Minneapolis. They will then drive to Mason City.

In the midst of all of this, my friend Queen called and asked for help for a presentation she was to make on blacks in music for Black History Month. So I called my friend Charles in Berkeley and hooked up the two of them. Queen sent an email saying Charles had been very helpful. It pleased me very much to hook up two of my black friends in the Bay Area in Northern California.

The shock of more areas in the right breast is tempered by the fact that the MRI caught the areas when mammogram after mammogram and ultra sound after ultra sound had not caught it. The MRI has saved my life.

As this goes on, I will write about my friends and my daughters. With a reference to the cancer, but mostly about other things. This is my way of keeping my spirits up.

Joy