How did I feel when I was told to return for yet another mammogram? Horrible. Scared. The doctor called me at work. It was a Friday and I was hoping the news would be good. "Yes," he said, "we want you to have a breast biopsy to determine if you have cancer. You have a cluster of calcifications. It's a new appearance compared to your mammogram from two years ago." I went home and faced my fear. The weekend was long. I needed to find out all I could about calcifications before I could be seen the following week by the surgeon.
What did I remember from my earlier cancer scare? Almost 20 years earlier I was faced with evidence that I might have thyroid cancer. That nodule was large, but luckily it turned out to be benign. This time my calcification was so tiny that no one could feel it. Waiting for results can keep you awake at night, scared. That 3 a.m. wake-up call.
I know what kept me going earlier during my last cancer scare. It was the simple phrase "innocent until proven guilty." Until you get the results from the biopsy you are innocent of cancer. How many times had I told others to use the same phrase when they were confronted with a scare such as mine? If it works for the judicial system, why not apply it toward health scares too? Let me see the evidence first, the outcome of the biopsy. I was beginning to feel better. You need something to keep you buoyant as you play out this waiting game.
I called my sister right away. She went through something similar a few years back. She told me to go get the latest edition of Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book. I'd read all there was to know and had plenty to ask the surgeon. She also told me she knew I would be OK. She was great through the entire process, along with some close acquaintances of mine.
Over the days, I got on the phone and called several girlfriends who had experienced a breast biopsy. Most of them had lumpectomies. Hardly anyone else had micro calcifications, those tiny calcifications in the breast tissue seen only in a mammogram.
My friends were extremely helpful. I asked and they gave details about the outpatient procedure. I received excellent information detailing what to expect following the biopsy and the local anesthetic. Most women are back in the swing of things right after the biopsy. Much discussion ensued about waiting for the results. Staying positive. I was good at trying.
I visited the surgeon's office a week later. With Dr. Susan Love's book in hand, I asked many questions. How many procedures like mine had he performed? He said the number was considerable. How much tissue will be removed? You must ask. I wanted the least invasive procedure as possible. I was armed with information from Dr. Love's book detailing my circumstances. I even tried to talk him out of doing the surgery! I live in California within the San Francisco Bay Area. This is the home of the highest number of reported cases of breast cancer in the world. Take no chances. Be sure you are getting the best procedure for your individual case wherever you live.
My husband was considerate and thoughtful. He knew me well and remained more positive than I. He and my thoughtful older daughter accompanied me to the motel-like dressing room before going in to surgery. Then the surgeon met the three of us in the same room where I was dressed for surgery. The four of us walked down the hallway together. I said goodbye to them at the entry to the surgery room. Looking back I remember thinking, "This is so civilized!"
It was June, the beginning of summer. My husband and I planned months in advance to vacation at the summer home of relatives in Lake Tahoe. We always started the summer this way with our daughters. I was awake enough following the surgery to have the surgeon tell me he'd call me at home with the results in a few days. I asked the surgeon to phone me in Tahoe rather than at home with the results of my biopsy. He wrote the phone number on the pants of his scrubs (no paper to write on in the surgery room).
My biopsy was such a well-orchestrated event by my HMO. I sent, for the first time in my life, thank-you notes to several of the nurses involved and the surgeon himself.
When the call came through with the results at Lake Tahoe, I felt relief to know I was cleared. There was no sign of malignancy. I was innocent! Then the surgeon went on to say he lost my phone number. On the day of my surgery he'd thrown the surgery pants into the laundry and lost the vacation number. But that morning he had received my thank-you note with the Lake Tahoe number written on it.
"ShireenB," who lists her age as "boomer+2," lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. She has worked closely with community members at ThirdAge for two years, and can be contacted at shireenb@mythirdage.com.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not represent medical advice or the views of ThirdAge Media.
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One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime. The ThirdAge We Care Campaign tells how you can help make a difference.
