I Am Linda

History - Part 1

Before things move along I want to recount the days and weeks leading up to my diagnosis so those moments don't escape me. 

This all began as the result of a routine, annual screening that took place on March 7th.  As I left the imaging center I felt good that I had taken this important step to safeguard my health and proceeded to go about my business.  On March 17th I received a letter from the radiologist who observed an area on the right that he believed to be benign, however it was recommended that a follow-up mammogram and ultrasound be performed to confirm this. "OK", I thought.  "I've been through this before and it has always been nothing, but I'll play."  Since this would require a referral from my doctor, Dr. Myers, I put the letter aside to discuss it with him during my annual exam that was already scheduled for 3/30. 

My follow-up was on April 4th, one day before my birthday, and while on the ultrasound table the interpreting radiologist, Dr. Walker, came in to tell me that he was very concerned about what he was seeing and recommended an ultrasound core biopsy.  He was so concerned that he asked if there was someone with me who I'd like to bring into the room to hear this. "This is not good," I thought.  I'd never had this level of concern before.

Within 2 hours my cell phone rang.  It was Dr. Myers.  Apparently the radiologist, Dr. Walker had called him immediately.  "This is really not good,"  I thought.  Happy birthday to me.

L

P.S. Be sure to check out www.brownnosingonline.com for more about how this has affected my other project, Brown-Nosing 101.

Well developed, well nourished....

While in the middle of a follow-up appointment my surgeon gets a knock on the door and a nurse tells him that Hospice is on the phone.  He looks at me and asks if it is OK if he steps out to take the call.  I've just learned that I have breast cancer and yet the needs of someone in hospice trumps my concerns at this point without so much as a moment's consideration.  I say, "Absolutely", and he leaves the room.

My partner wanders over to the my file that has been left open and begins to read.  "Well nourished, well developed female presents with suspicious area on right breast .....".  He chuckles.  I smile and think to myself, no....I am Linda. 

I certainly understand the clinical speak that needs to be in my file, but at that very moment the sense of who I am - much more than a body presenting with a condition - was so overwhelming that the weight of that revelation seemed too much to bear.  Right then and there I could hold all of my hopes and dreams in the palm of my hand and slowly, ever so slowly, I could see them slipping away through my tightly clenched fingers.

Literally, in an instant, everything in my world changed and yet as I held those hopes and dreams it was also instantly apparent that I had to let them go in order to truly grasp what it meant to be alive at this moment. 

AT THIS MOMENT.  The most notable thing that has changed in my life as a result of this diagnosis is my incredibly heightened ability to live in the moment.  What I've gone through over the past month is my own personal equivalent of shock and awe.  To look ahead is scary, so to manage the fear I stay here in the present moment, in the NOW.

Life feels different here. Every sense is heightened.  Food tastes different.  I can feel my fingers on the keys as I type.  I am aware of the sounds around me and the sensations in my body.  Colors are brighter.  I can smell the ink on the papers next to me.  Everything is different.

Linda

P.S.  For more breast cancer insights and to read about my other project, Brown-Nosing 101, be sure to check out my Brown-Nosing 101 blog.