Life has been a little bumpy since my husband saw an e-mail about a new form of breast cancer and challenged me to go to the doctor and have a suspicious area on my left breast checked out.
I knew immediately that my doctor was concerned, and had that confirmed when he got me a mammogram appointment the very next day. The mammogram was suspicious enough to merit a needle biopsy the next day, and the pathology report verified all prior suspicions. On Tuesday, March 3 at about 8 a.m. I got the call confirming that I had breast cancer. But I think I'd known for awhile, or at least been prepared to hear the news. I'd been prepared by the pictures on the original e-mail that had an uncanny resemblance to my body, by my doctor's concern, by the mammogram that showed an undeniable lump, and even by the last few book club books that my book club had selected--one about a girl with leukemia, one about Randy Paush's "Last Lecture" before he died of pancreatic cancer, and the last about a man's experiences in the Spirit World while his body was in coma. So I was not surprised to hear the diagnosis, but there was no way for me to be fully prepared to understand all the ways having breast cancer has already changed and will continue to change me and my family.
Once diagnosed, doctors' appointments have become a new part of my daily routine, my already extremely busy daily routine. Since that Tuesday morning just a few weeks ago I have met with surgeons and oncologists, I've had MRI's, ultrasounds, and PETscans, I've had surgery to remove a diseased gall bladder and place a port in my chest through which I will receive chemotherapy. I've discussed alternative treatment plans and taken a chemotherapy preparation class. I've even had my teeth cleaned.
I've had countless calls and cards from family and friends concerned for my well being and the well being of my family. I've had a couple of great intimate lunches with dear friends wanting to encourage me. I've had two priesthood blessings, visited the temple with my mom and sister, prayed a lot, tried my best to explain things to my kids so they'll understand the gravity of the situation and yet also be assured that there is great reason for hope that together we'll all get through this, and I've recognized how blind I have been to the suffering of my fellow human beings while I've been busy with my own life, and know that through this experience I don't think I'll ever be that blind again.
So tomorrow, which in a different year would be memorable only as my kids' first day of Spring Break, I go in for the first of 24 weekly chemotherapy sessions. The sessions last about 2 hours each, and on the 4 days following each session I'll be giving myself shots designed to boost my white blood cell count so my body will be able to fight off infection--and I've got a 2-year-old so I'll need those white blood cells! My seventeen-year-old daughter Rachel will be with me as I begin this journey to unknown places, and I'll be so glad to have her there!
After chemotherapy there will be surgery and radiation to think about, but I'm just gonna focus on taking this thing one day at a time. I'll worry about that stuff as it comes.
I want to thank my Heavenly Father for the tender mercies he's given me to get me through this cancer treatment. He's given me a brother who's been through cancer treatment twice and completely empathizes with my experience, he's given me a gorgeous niece who just happens to be a nurse in surgery at St. Luke's and made sure I was expertly and tenderly taken care of during my gall bladder procedure, he's given ME cancer and spared my husband, who wouldn't have been able to work as hard as he has to if this was his diagnosis, and my children, who I won't have to watch suffer. He's given me kind friends who care, neighbors who care, and acquaintances who have been willing to step in and take responsibilities off my shoulders. He's given me a sister who is beautifying my room, buying my family food, and folding my clothes simultaneously with her family's blessing and assistance. I've received calls and notes and e-mails of love and support from all my great brothers and sisters and from my brothers' wives and from nieces and nephews. Another tender mercy is receiving this treatment just as the weather's warming up so I won't be freezing cold while I go through it! I feel love all around me, and I feel my Savior's love, and that love will certainly sustain me for the next 24 weeks.
Here I go, out to the great wide open. I'll keep you posted.
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Margi, I have been praying mightily for you all day. I hope everything goes smoothly. You can do this!
ReplyDeletewell, here it goes! I am here for ya, whatever you need! I have some cute pictures for you too! when you are feeling up to the visit, I will be over and we can go through them.
ReplyDeletekeep those spirits up!
I'm on vacation in Portland but have also been praying for you. When I get back, I'd love to have Tadman anytime. Or even just come and hang out with you. I thought you were awesome when I first met you at scouts a few 6 years ago. Still think you are.
ReplyDeleteLoves from all of us.