Inquiring Minds Want To Know

After learning of my diagnosis with cancer, the first thing that many people wanted to know was how I found out. Was it a lump that I found during a self examination that landed me on the doorstep of my physician's office or was it during an annual routine screening? As women, we've been lectured from a young age to feel our ta-tas regularly to detect any lumps or abnormalities and given the technologies that are available today to spot breast cancer at such an early stage -- why was I diagnosed so late in the game? Well, in light of it being Breast Cancer Awareness Month -- I figured it would be appropriate to share with you how I discovered the lump...or I should say lumps...that forced me into the ring with the big "C".

The detection of the lump in my breast was not a recent discovery. That mass of uncontrolled cell proliferation had been hitching a ride on my right boob for over a decade. It started with tinges of pain that would run through my breast. Not all the time, but enough that it became noticeable. One day while showering, I felt a small, hard lump on the side of my breast. As I dried off, I frantically tried to think back to my middle school sex-ed classes on the proper way to administer a self exam. Although, it didn't matter if I was performing the exam correctly or not...the lump was easy to detect whether I was laying down, standing up or doing a handstand. Surprisingly, the discovery of that tiny mass didn't send me into a complete panic -- my reasoning, breast cancer is for old people, not thirty-somethings -- but it caused enough concern for me to make an appointment with my gynecologist to have it checked out.

Ah, yes, the visit to that Newport Beach gynecologist's office so many years ago...I can remember it like it was yesterday. My doctor had an odd bedside manner. First off, he was one of those annoying uptalkers, which was disturbing coming from a physician rather than a teenage girl..."My name is Dr. Uptalker? I'm like, totally going to feel you up right now to see what's going on, like for sure?" (okay, he didn't really say that - but in my mind, that's how it played out) The second peculiar behavior was that he asked and then answered his own questions. The prognosis went something like this:

   Doc: Do you have a lump in your breast?
   <pause>
   Doc: Yes.
   Doc: Are you a 30-something with breast cancer?
   <dramatic pause>
   Doc: Absolutely not. 
   Doc: Is this probably just a calcium deposit within the breast tissue?
   Doc: Yes.
   Doc: Should you follow-up with annual mammograms in your 40s?
   Doc: Absolutely.
   Me: Phew, that's great news. Now can I get my legs out of these
          stirrups?!  
   ***30 minutes had passed since a certain test and I still had my
       legs in those things (guys - you don't want to know; gals - you 
       know what I'm talking about)

Three kids and 10 years after that doctor's visit, the lump in my breast remained...and grew...and changed shape. Sure, I had doctors over the years question the mass during my pregnancies but they seemed satisfied with the findings offered by good ole' Dr. Uptalker - just a calcium deposit. I must give credit to the gynecologist who delivered my youngest child -- she went above and beyond the mere verbal suggestion from my other gynecologists to schedule a mammogram -- she actually wrote a referral. "No hurry," she said while handing me the prescription for a mammogram, "Once life settles down a bit with your newborn and two, young children  -- go have it done." Music to my ears...she wasn't too concerned over the lump in my breast, which at that point had definitely gotten bigger, so why should I be? She's the doctor, after all, not me. And so, life went on...while I waited for it to settle down a bit. Before I knew it, six years had passed and that prescription still wasn't fulfilled.

It was over the course of the nine months prior to my diagnosis, that I began to notice significant changes. The once mobile mass had adhered to the tissue surrounding my breast and was pulling in the skin around it causing it to pucker. What started out as mild discomfort to the affected area was now causing consistent pain. The words of advice to have annual mammograms in my 40's were spinning in my head...there I was 41 years old with a large mass in my breast that was causing noticeable alterations to my skin and I STILL had not been in to have it checked out. I tried to convince myself that the changes to my breast were attributed to getting older, just like some of my other 'no longer twenty year old' body parts -- even though my gut feelings were telling me something different.

Then, came that frightful day when I discovered the other lump...this time, not in my breast, but, in my armpit. Prior to detecting the second mass, I was blessed to have one of those after-Thanksgiving colds that always seems to come just in time for the hustle and bustle of the holidays. You know the one that I'm talking about --sore throat, fever, congestion...but this particular cold came with the additional benefit of an achy armpit. One early December morning, I was massaging my pits to try and ease the discomfort that I was experiencing when I felt it...the other lump. It was the discovery of that pea-sized mass that sufficiently freaked me out and had me on the phone with my doctor demanding a mammogram STAT. 

The rest of the story is history...one week after having the 4x4cm mass in my right breast x-rayed and biopsied -- I heard those dreadful words, "You have cancer." Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Stage III, grade 2 -- to be exact.

I'm sure that some of you might be shaking your head as you read this post (even I cringed as I put my story to words). Why didn't I schedule a mammogram when I began to notice the changes? Well, the answer was simple -- there was no need to have that lump checked out. I already had the right diagnosis that was provided to me years ago by an uptalking doctor in Newport Beach who examined the mass and said,"Are you a thirty-something with breast cancer? Absolutely not." So why would it be necessary to have it checked out again? -- who cares that I was now a forty-something with a mass that tripled in size to the one that he examined a decade ago.

Here I am today, almost at the end of my treatment, and I'm going to let you in on a little secret -- all of those changes to the mass and skin around my breast in the months leading up to my diagnosis -- deep down inside of me, I always knew something was wrong. Truth is, I was scared -- actually terrified about the possibility of a life dealing with cancer. I remember asking myself time and time again, what if I was diagnosed? How the heck would I survive that? I have three kids - no time for cancer. I have a wonderful sex life with my hubby - no time for bald & boobless. The awful scenarios of life with cancer kept playing out in my mind but instead of having the mass checked out to put my mind at ease or validate what I was thinking...I chose to look the other way.

I've always taken comfort in knowing that God has a plan for me. Sure, I don't know exactly what that plan entails and I certainly have cursed Him many times for allowing cancer to be a part of it. But, being plagued with this insidious disease has allowed me the opportunity to use the power of words to share my story with you. Perhaps that was part of His plan, for me to not be afraid to put myself out there. By making myself vulnerable, maybe it might help one woman to not make the same mistake that I did -- ignore the signs of cancer.