Three days after a biopsy I get a call from my doctor. "Jennifer, the report shows that you have cancer" he said. Sobbing-I ran for my husband. "I have breast cancer". He looked me in the eyes and told me "You will beat this, you will be fine" And as crazy as this sounds, I believed him. But, at age 38 my life had just been whittled down to a survival statistic. WTF???. I felt fine. I have no family history of any type of cancer. I've always been able to hold it together, all the time. But not now. Now, I am angry, pissed-off and scared.
I found the lump myself. A few days later I made an appointment for a mammogram. I was fidgety, nervous, and uneasy. They did a mammo of both breasts. Then they took more films of my right breast. I am cold, and regretting that I had stupidly worn a thong that day with my dress, because now that is all that I have on. A bright red thong and a paper gown that is puddled on the floor around my ankles. Great, my dignity has begun its downward spiral. I pepper the nurse with questions hoping for an answer that will allow me to breathe again. All she'll give up is that there is a solid mass in my breast. Normally, I would have shot her a "No shit, Sherlock" but for the first time in my life I was too scared to be funny. Cancer isn't funny-is it???
Maybe it can be. I dubbed myself Franken-boob after my surgery. When my hair fell out I bought myself a pink "Britney-after-the-meltdown wig". I slathered mascara on the one eyelash clinging hopelessly to my eyelid. Two years later, I am here and still laughing.
Colts Neck, NJ
