My 6 year old grandson was visiting. I love getting his hugs. This time I had to tell him to be careful because, I had a “boo boo”. My boo-boo was from a recent biopsy of a mass discovered in my left breast.
We were at the local mall, playing in the water fountain. As we were leaving, we saw a pink ribbons painted on the roadway. He said: “Granny, I know what that pink ribbon is.” I replied: “You do. What does that pink ribbon mean?” “It’s for cancer”, Noah replied.
My response was, “Do you know what cancer is?” “I know the word cancer. I know how to spell cancer. I know cancer makes people really, really sick.”
I now know the word cancer, also.
It was June 2013, the month of my 62nd birthday. Being healthy all my life, with no family history of breast cancer, both my sons born before I was 30 years old, breast feed the youngest, and all my mammograms were void of any suspicious areas: why would I worry about breast cancer? The diagnosis was: Invasive Ductal Carcinoma with lymph node involvement, and estrogen/progesterone receptor positive. Proof that all those statistics didn't apply to me.
I decided my motto would be "It is what it is and we will do what it takes".
A lumpectomy was first. Removal of my axillary lymph nodes was next. Then two rounds of chemotherapy: 4 consisted of a combination of doxorubicin (red devil) and cyclophosphamide. Followed by 12 treatments of paclitaxel. And, finally 33 radiation treatments.
Yes, my all my hair fell out. I consider this a small price to pay. I wore that shiny bald head like a badge of courage. I wanted everyone to know; breast cancer is survivable.
The first 4 chemo treatments were tough. But, I am tougher. The last 12 treatments were a piece of cake and I flew through the radiation with flying colors.
One year later; I am healthy, active, happy, more appreciative of the small things in life, and value the truly important things.
Take 'that', breast cancer!
Braselton, GA