Breast Cancer Scare (Part One)

I had a breast cancer scare.

Every month, I do a breast self-exam and every year since turning 40, I get a mammogram.  Breast cancer has touched my life.  My maternal grandmother lost a breast from cancer in the 1970s and my husband’s mother died from complications due to breast cancer.  I also have a number of friends who have had breast cancer.  Breast care is important to me.

Years ago my OB told me I have dense breasts and it’s true, I do.  On any given day when examining the “girls,” they always feel lumpy and grainy.  It’s not alarming since that’s my norm.  I heard or read that a breast tumor can be hard and immoveable.  My lumps move around.

In July I had back-to-back appointments.  First, came the annual squish the breast fest (mammogram).  Once that was done, I went to see my OB for my yearly.  It was there that she felt a lump.  I felt it before but didn’t think it was anything.  She looked at me point blank and said, “Do not worry about this.  It’s a cyst.”  She prescribed an ultrasound to be sure.   Knowing she had 25 years’ experience examining breasts gave me comfort, but still.  I couldn’t help but worry.  It was hard not to.  Fortunately, my 2-year old son kept me busy enough so my mind didn’t drift too much into the universe of concern.  I kept saying trust your doctor.  I told a few close friends and some family what was happening.

Waiting was endless.  Finally, it was ultrasound day.  I was in a dimly lit exam room wearing an open-faced grown trying not to be a nervous wreck.  The tech came in and started the exam.  When I get nervous, I tend to talk a lot.  I asked if she could tell me what she saw.  She said the doctor would let me know.  When he walked in the room I blurted out, “Thank God you’re not 80 years old!”  The tech unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh.  Nervous + talkative = inappropriate comments.

The doctor asked me to show him where the lump was.  He spent ½ hour examining my right breast and identified 3 cysts.  He found an area near the breastbone that he couldn’t identify with the ultrasound machine.  My heart stopped, but he didn’t seem alarmed.  He told me it was probably dense breast tissue.  Because of his finding, he ordered an MRI.  I mentioned that my mammograms always came back clear.  He said that mammograms were pointless since my breasts were so dense.  Was I really hearing this?  6 years of mammograms and this was the first time someone mentioned anything.  Why?  This news did not make me feel any better.  I could have been sitting on cancer and not known it.

I left in a mild state of shock coupled with a bit of denial.  The “what if” game lurked in my head, but I couldn’t go there.  Once home, I called my OB’s office.  One of the nurses called me back.  She was sweet and soothing; she’d had a lumpectomy so she knew exactly how I felt.  I mentioned the mammogram thing and asked what to do going forward?  Should I see a specialist?  She listened to me and gently said to get the MRI first; they’d answer all my questions once we had more information.  I was to get the MRI at a certain time during my cycle that meant more waiting.

A normal life was difficult to lead while waiting.  There was this big elephant in the room and it was best to leave it there unacknowledged.  The MRI prescription came in the mail one day.  The slip read “MASS R BREAST.”  They’re calling it a mass?  OMG.  I lost it.  That one word M A S S sent me spinning.  Couldn’t they have just called it an unidentifiable blob?  I cried in my husband’s arms that night, and we talked briefly about things, still avoiding “what if land.”

Once again, phone calls were made to family and friends.  I needed support and love, needed my people ready should it be necessary.  It was during my son’s nap one Saturday when I went in for the MRI.  With virtual posse in tow, I entered the exam room.  They had me lay on my stomach on the MRI table with my “girls” dangling into individual compartments, not the most comfortable position.  They gave me earplugs due to loud knockings emanating from the machine.  I was told I couldn’t move so I stayed still and tense the entire 30 minutes.

It was done and there was no turning back.  It either was or it wasn’t.  The tech told me the results would be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.  Seriously?  I had to wait that long?  That night, my husband’s arms were a refuge when we were in bed snuggling safe in the dark.  I didn’t want it to be cancer.  No one does.  The “what ifs” were now present.  How would we juggle everything?

By mid-morning on Monday, I made the call.  The report had been dictated but not read by a doctor.  I telephoned that wonderful nurse in my OB’s office and she made the call to get the results.  It was extremely nerve wracking waiting for the return call.  My son received extra hugs that day, which kept me grounded.

The nurse worked her persuasive magic because that evening my OB called.  I have caller ID so I knew it was their office.  The phone weighed a ton as I picked it up.  I did not have breast cancer! I had cysts and they were all benign.  She said they wanted me to get an ultrasound of my left breast to check 2 cysts.  It was all good, positive news.  Thank God – and I did.  Relieved was too light of a word for how I felt.  Tears again, but this time, they were tears of joy and release.

As of now, I’m waiting to have that ultrasound.  Once done, I’m scheduling an appointment with a breast specialist to answer my myriad of questions regarding the best preventative care, future mammograms, and whether or not to take the BRCA test for the breast cancer gene.  Knowledge is power and I want to know as much as I can.  Part Two of this post will be about what I learned from that appointment.  I’m sure there are other women out there who have dense breasts and, hopefully, this blog will shed some light.

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