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My Five Days of Breast Cancer

The Friday after Thanksgiving an ominous letter arrived in the mail from the hospital where I'd recently had my mammogram. "Evaluation of your screening mammogram reveals findings that need further study," wrote the Interpreting Radiologist. Since the mammography department was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday, no one was available to answer my questions. On Monday, I made an appointment to come in the next day for another mammogram, a coned down magnification view. The only information I could draw out of the scheduling nurse was, "There must have been something on the film that the radiologist didn't like."

How can I describe those five days from when I opened the letter to my second mammogram?

I thought about dying. The memory of people in my life who had faced death bravely comforted me. I thought about having breast cancer. The memory of women who had fought and won against breast cancer, including a woman who has battled it three times, comforted me. I thought about leaving my son and husband. That was the hardest part. Then, I was comforted by all we had done together and all the time I've spent with my son. I think of him as "unfinished," and yet at 13 he's a young man.

I worried quite a bit. (No kidding, eh?) I found myself looking at the world with newfound wonder. Every woman that I saw made me think, "Does she have cancer? If so, she's still out and about. Life goes on. I can do this." I thought about friendship. I missed old friends who have gone their separate ways, but I felt warmed by the friends who are here for me right now. One friend pleaded, "Call me with any news. You know I'm always here for you." And I thought, "Whatever standards I judged friendship by before, well, this is the true test."

I worked on my scrapbook and felt comforted that by going through these huge, bulky books my son would be able to remember many of the good times we had together. All the time and effort I've spent on my books seemed fully justified. Maybe you, like me, occasionally feel selfish for spending time and money on our "hobby." In light of my situation, I resolved to delete the description of scrapbooking as a "hobby" and rededicate myself to it as a "legacy."

I felt angry. I've always taken good care of my health. I have always been a writer, but I feel like I'm just now hitting my stride. I fumed because I have more to give. There are lots of stories inside me. I need the time to write them and leave them behind. I receive many e-mails thanking me for what I write here and many people leave glowing comments about my books on Amazon.com, so I feel I do make a contribution of sorts to others. And I think I can do more. I felt angry to think I'd run out of time.

But finally, I felt grateful. I've had a wonderful life. I grew up in a tiny town in Southern Indiana. My father was an alcoholic and my mother was overwhelmed. I put myself through college. I survived an abusive first marriage. I've come through all that and I am deeply grateful. I am grateful for my husband who supports me and encourages me and challenges me. I am eternally and completely thankful for my son, and I count the day of his birth as the best day of my life. I am delighted by the opportunities I've had to travel, to learn and to grow. I am blessed by my women friends, and especially by one best chum who would, I knew, instantly try to nurture and comfort me. I am gratitude for God's way of bringing the right people into my life at the right time. Monday morning I went to my Jazzercise class and felt immense gratitude for my body although I did glance down at my right breast and mutter, "Traitor."

When I arrived at the hospital on Tuesday for my second mammogram, I'd traveled a million miles in my mind. I sat waiting for my results with a group of other women. I wondered if one of us would be given a death sentence. I felt exquisite sadness and courage all at once. We were so kind to each other. We joked about our gowns--pink cotton and tied in front. We shared magazines. Our actions were so trivial and yet so profoundly caring. We never spoke our fears out loud. The nurse called me back yet again after the first set of photos. The breathing lessons I'd practiced in yoga came in handy as I steadied myself. I sat in the waiting area with other women and again, we were quietly kind to each other.

The technician called my name and explained that the radiologist wanted to see me. I dressed sloppily and raced along the sterile green hall behind her. I memorized the funky pattern on her hospital uniform. Swirls, dots, lines on a bright blue background. A distinguished looking man in suspenders with glasses sat with his back to me looking at x-rays of my right breast. Had I ever appreciated how perfectly formed I was? Or was I too busy wishing I was bigger? Silly, silly, girl. He turned from the screen and introduced himself. I didn't catch his name. My heartbeat was too loud in my ears.

"It's just the architecture of your breast," he said. "There's nothing wrong. See? This area was what concerned us here on the first films. On the second--" and he flipped off the old set and added a new set by clipping it over the light box-"those shadows don't appear." He turned to face me. "You are fine. We'll see you next year."

Thus ended my five days of breast cancer. Only five days but a lifetime to me.

For those of you who have had breast cancer, I marvel at your courage. Even more today than I once did, after this taste of your life. For those of you who haven't, I offer these StoryStarting Questions:

1. What if you learned you have cancer? How would you feel about your life thus far?
2. What would you change?
3. What would you appreciate daily?
4. What would you regret?
5. What are you thankful for?
6. What would you like more time to do?

As we face the New Year, let's pause and reflect. Write about your life as if it might end sooner than you think. In the end, so much doesn't matter. I challenge you to dedicate yourself to that which does matter.

P.S. This is a great time to look over your scrapbooks and ask if they really reflect what's important to you.

P.P.S. Feeling grateful for your good health, like I am? You may want to participate in the Scrap for Kids fundraiser being held by The Memory Group, LLC, stores. All through the month of February, 2003, scrapbookers can participate in local activities to benefit the Ronald McDonald House Charities nationwide. To find a store near you or to learn more, go to www.thememorygroupllc.com

--Joanna

Joanna's new book Adventures in Journaling is available in stores now! Look for it at your local scrapbook retailer or at my-memories.net.