Breast Wishes...When Pink Is More Than a Color

I first heard of breast cancer when I was 16. One of my favorite aunts turned up with it...and beat it. As a result, I've been careful to keep up with breast exams, and mammograms. Each October, I notice the pink ribbons, and the events advocating for a cure, and breast cancer awareness. But this year, it all seems very different. Two weeks ago, five days before my birthday, I found a large lump in my breast.

I remember thinking two things in the same moment. That Can't be a lump...and i don't have time for this! Not logical, of course...but it's hard to be Spock when you're staring in your mirror, thinking...not me. The next day, I called my doctor. You might think that was a simple thing. Run, do not walk to the office. But in the last decade, I've had too much contact with the medical community. A few too many tests, too much surgery to deal with different things. Blown veins from bad IV sticks...failed procedures to help with pain control. Seeing a doctor at all, for any reason is no simple thing.

So I was alone with my lump for a day. And i was also alone with my thoughts. What I wanted was for the doctor to feel it, and laugh..."silly girl, that's just...fill in some nice, reasonable thing that wasn't cancer." He didn't. Next thing I knew he was sending me for an ultrasound, a mammogram, and giving me an appointment for a "breast specialist". Ummm...what? A few hours later, I had made the appointments, and was on automatic pilot.

A simple truth in a woman's life. Once you acquire breasts, they are impossible to ignore. They are right there, even when you have no reason to think about them. Try to "think of something else", when you have a mass the size of a grape in one...and it doesn't work terribly well. I lecture my friends all the time about taking care of themselves...so I didn't have the luxury of denial. I wandered around in sort of a haze, trying not to think...period.

I also avoided the net. I'm a great one for looking things up on the net. (No, I don't self diagnose...I just like to know what I'm dealing with.) But no...not this time.  Worse, pink ribbons were everywhere...and I was uncomfortably aware of them. Pink ribbons for breast cancer. Was one of them going to have my name on it? Scary thought.

I went for the tests, and the office was appallingly quiet. The outer area is where they park friends or family. The inner office is where you sit in a badly fitting gown, and wait to be tested. There were four of us...each taking a corner. No one spoke. There was no eye contact. Four women, completely alone. A fifth arrived, this one wearing a head scarf. Probably for a check up...but it was impossible to ignore her. She'd been there. That place none of us wanted to be in.

I thought of my aunt, as I waited my turn. She'd had an mastectomy, and when I visited her at the hospital, found her alone, and in tears. Mary was an amazing, lively, STRONG woman. The idea that anything could make her cry was unthinkable. I did what I always do...I found a way to make her laugh. Then she talked to me about her breast.

She had been a "sweater girl". One of those lovely, curvy women  ala Marilyn Monroe. She was a beautiful woman,who just happened to look like beautiful women of her day were supposed to look. And that included her breasts.  They were part of her identity. She was crying to mourn the one she lost.  That was deep territory for me, at 18. I realized as I sat in the clinic that all the women there were caught in the same thought as well. Cancer was scary as hell...but our breasts? They came out to give two of the women the good news...they were clear. And both of them RAN out of there.

My turn. Ouch. Lots of views and angles. Then onto the ultrasound. The tech did the test, then went to find the radiologist. I snuck a peek. OMG. What was THAT?

Most of the breast looked smoky...but near the front was this black, opaque shape. That couldn't be good. Five minutes later, the doctor walked in. He shook my hand, and explained that with some tests, there is a question of results. Not with mine. That is NOT cancer...just a cyst. You might want to have it removed.

Relief. Oh YEAH. Along with a vow...never ever to look at a test again, no matter how nervous I am. I scared myself silly...but I also had my answer. I was fine. When i was leaving, I saw the posters for breast cancer awareness, the rallies, the events and races...and promised myself that next year, I would be there. For Mary...for myself...and any other woman who ever found something.

Ladies? Self exams, every month.

Pay attention.  Early detection saves lives. If you can't do it for yourself (though you should) do it for those who love you. And breast wishes...now and always!