News

I should probably write an introductory paragraph to gently ease into this, but I'm just going to come right out and say it: I'm going through treatment for breast cancer. Over the last few months I've considered launching this blog many times, to break the news in one fell swoop and to keep people posted about my progress. The fact that I'm starting it halfway through chemo tells you something about my lack of enthusiasm for the subject.

The short story is that I'm doing pretty well. I had a double mastectomy in July, I'm going to go through radiation about a month after chemo ends, and I hope to have this whole thing behind me by this time next year.

I'm not sure why, given the history of breast cancer in my immediate family, I was surprised to get the diagnosis. Fourteen years ago I had benign lumps removed, so I figured this time would be the same. Even when I was called in for additional imaging after my routine mammogram in early May, even when the radiologist performed an ultrasound and asked me to return the next day for biopsies (plural), even while I waited for my doctor to call me with the results, it didn't occur to me to be nervous. Only seconds before I listened to the voice mail from my doctor asking me to call her back did I say to my husband, "You know, it's possible we'll be getting bad news."

I'm fortunate to have a compassionate primary-care physician who made me feel as okay with the news as I could be. I'm also incredibly lucky to have a friend who's the clinical director of the breast oncology program at a highly reputable hospital in a city teeming with highly reputable hospitals. I called my friend, Dr. M, almost immediately. Two days later, I was meeting with her and her esteemed surgical colleague, Dr. S.

So many details were thrown at me during that meeting, I was glad I thought to bring a notepad and an excellent note-taker and hand-holder. What I didn't need to write down was the good news: our family would be able to go on our vacation to Europe, scheduled for late June. Dr. S would be on vacation herself until July anyway, and nothing much was going to change in eight weeks.

After a month of additional appointments and end-of-school activities, we spent ten days in Switzerland and France. I'm so glad my mind kept fear and anxiety at bay and allowed me to fully enjoy myself.

The surgery happened ten days after we came home, and I got the pathology results about ten days after that. Until then, I'd been told I probably wouldn't need any follow-up treatment other than Tamoxifen for five to ten years. Since I gave away the ending in the first couple of paragraphs, you already know otherwise. The following days were probably the hardest I've faced during this whole process. On top of this news, I had complications from reconstructive surgery and had to go through a second, less major surgery (that's all the detail I feel comfortable providing about that, except to say the situation is ongoing and won't be resolved until sometime next year).

I don't know how diligent I'll be about writing here, but I will probably follow up at least when I reach milestones. Thanks for reading. If you'd like to comment (and please don't feel obligated), please do it here and not on Facebook. I like to keep some semblance of privacy online, and even if I'm living in a fool's paradise, I prefer to keep really personal stuff off Facebook. And here, you'll notice I don't use my name or city or the names of family members, so if you do comment, please use initials only. Sorry for all the rules.