My Special Genes...

This summer has been busy, and fun, and we have planned, but there has been an underlying sick sense to it as well. About three months ago, I noticed a small lump in my breast.
My mother had breast cancer in her fourties.
My Aunt, on my Dad's side, is currently battling breast cancer with chemotherapy. She is enduring it gracefully. Currently, she says her head looks similar to the plantet earth as patches of hair fall out, leaving islands of fuzz. Needless to say, having the special family history that I do, I immediately felt uncomfortable with this new knowledge.
I waited to see it they were growing for a few months. I tried to stay busy and not think about the possibilities. (In hindsight, that was my biggest mistake) Finally, after a lot of hemming and hawing, I made and appointment with the doctor. I walked right in there expecting to be made out to be a paranoid hysterical woman. I was pleasantly surprised when the doctor actually took my words into account. After a series of visits, we determined that the lump was indeed growing. Quickly. After a few tests and ultrasounds, I was advised to see a surgeon. The days I had these appointments were in complete slow motion. I hardly functioned, worrying about the days that lay ahead. Finally, the surgeon decided, with the steady increase of the mass ( now masses, since we found another that was growing) that we should surgically remove the lumps. I figured it would be a quick in and out procedure. It was a little more invasive than that, but I did get to check in and out the same day.

Can I just say that waiting there in that hideous hospital gown, with marker drawn all over my chest, my husband at my side, for the staff to come and wheel me into surgery, those were the longest hours of my life. I prefer labor, truly. At least you get a reward for your hard work and worry. I held it together better than I expected though. No tears.

Surgery complete, drugged to the hilt, wheeling down the hall with my beautiful gown on, I realized the wait before was not nearly as bad as the wait for the phone call. Lucky for me, my doctor was conscious of my fear and called the very next day. I was pronounced cancer free. I balled like a baby for two days. Ask my poor mother in law. She had to dry my tears every hour or so. I was a blubbering mess of relief.

I was fairly open from the start with my friends about the entire stinky experience. Truly, it would have been easier to suffer on my own and not talk about it. It would have been easier to act like it was no big deal. But who benefits from that? No one. Not my kids, not me, not those around me.

Looking back on the past week, I can see how truly lucky I am. I had my mother in law and husband there to care for me. My four boys stayed at their aunt's house for four days ( a feat unto itself), my friends brought food, sent flowers, called, cried with me, and supported me throughout the entire process. I felt the prayers of many, and am so grateful when I realize the outcome could have been so very different. I can barely stand to think of what could have been.

So, the moral of the story:
1) Check your breasts ladies.
2) Don't be afraid to lean on your friends and family.
3)Be grateful for your health.
4) Thank Heavenly Father for the miracles in your lives.