A couple months ago, while lying on my back in bed mid-breast exam, my wandering fingers screeched to a halt on a lump on the side of my left breast. It moved, and the edges were smooth, and I can’t afford to get cancer, so I told myself it was nothing.
When I was going through my custody battle, there were days that were so searingly stressful that I was convinced my body would blow up. I’d have an aneurysm, or a brain tumor, or my innards would simultaneously combust.
Or I would get breast cancer, for which I have double the risk of a typical woman.
Because I was spending so much money on litigation, and because the end result of that litigation was the cessation of child support, I decided that if I got really, truly, terminally sick, I wouldn’t bother to get treatment. What would be the point? Better to give my remaining time and money to my kids than to futile, debilitating medical treatment.
So I kept telling myself the lump was nothing, and it wouldn’t matter if it were something anyway. I went about my days in a haze of denial. Until the Angelina Jolie story broke.
The reason the news of Angelina’s double mastectomy knocked some sense into me is because we both go to the same breast center. I realized then that I had neglected to schedule my annual mastectomy and ultransound. I also realized that my ostrich-like approach to my health was absurd and, given the fact that I had children, irresponsible.
I called up Pink Lotus and scheduled a mammogram and ultrasound. The soonest available appointment wasn’t for two months, so I begged to come in just for a breast exam. I had to know what the lump was. Now.
* * *
Unlike the cold, cattle-call atmosphere of most imaging centers, Pink Lotus is intimate and Zennish. Everyone, from the receptionists to to the doctors, has an impeccable bedside manner. And every patient is treated like a VIP.
After giving me the most thorough breast exam I’d ever had in my life, the doctor showed me my lump on the ultrasound screen. She said it looked like a lymph node, something she encountered in patients at least twice a week, but just to be safe she was going to aspirate it.
The nurse held my hand and the doctor stuck a needle in my lump and after 45 painful seconds, the aspiration was done.
“We won’t get the results till after the weekend,” said the doctor. “But don’t let it spoil your holiday. I really think it’s nothing.
* * *
The doctor was so optimistic that I actually sashayed through Memorial Day Weekend without once thinking about picking out my headstone.
She called Tuesday evening with the test results. I thought I detected a slight catch in her voice and I felt a clutch in my stomach until I heard her say:
“I’m calling with good news.”
She told me the lump was just breast tissue and no cancer cells were detected. She said it had probably been there awhile but I just noticed it because I had recently lost weight (due to my diet of second-divorce stress).
When we ended the call, I said a silent prayer for skirting death. Cancer is kind to no one, but it’s even less kind to single parents, who must wrangle jobs, medical treatments, and child-raising alone.
In return for my good health, I vowed to a God I’m not sure I believe in to schedule my mammograms on time (mine will be in August, two months late), and worry about how to manage bad news and my single-mom life if need be.
Okay, readers, ‘fess up: have any of you ever put off a screening exam out of fear and denial?
Phew, I’m so happy it was nothing, Pauline! I’m overdue right now for my mammo exam, so after reading this, I’m booking it today. I did just have a physical and everything is fine but still need to go for the mammogram. Um, yes I used to put off stuff in fear of bad news but I’ve gotten much better at taking care of myself because this is it. I only have the one body and luckily I’ve been healthy all of my years. Interestingly, my last post is about taking care of self during divorce and #1 is making and keeping appointments-something I also need to get better at. Congrats on your good news and thanks for sharing an important post.
I know — it’s easy to fall into putting off self-care during a divorce because everything else is so overwhelming.
Thank you- my mother called me today to remind me and I forgot by the time I got to my office! I just made hte calls to get pre-aprroval for my once yearly MRI (and in 6 months I will have my once yearly mammogram.) Angelina Jolie have very little in common, except we are both BRCA positive…
Glad you made the calls, Lucy.
Damn, girl. I actually have a referral for a mammogram at Pink Lotus. I guess I better make my appointment now to deal with the post-Angelina rush! Glad you’re good.
Call today. They are CRAZY busy post-Angelina.
First off, glad you’re ok. Second, yes, I’ve put off going to the doctor a bunch. It’s never mattered, but I just think I’ve been fortunate. Getting a mammogram this year; I do it every other year. And maybe I should switch from Tower to Pink Lotus. The first time I was in Tower, I discovered a magazine sitting out from 1989. I’m not kidding. And it felt like that was how long I’d been sitting in the waiting area, too.
HAHAHA! Yes, I used to go to Tower too. Highly recommend you switch to PL.
I had my very first mammogram at 40, three years ago, and they found abnormal cluster of cells…needle biopsy said negative for cancer. Six months later, follow up mammogram still saw cluster dots, my doc recommended an excisional biopsy, which came back as DCIS, Stage 0 (yes zero) cancer in the ducts. This was without feeling a lump, and at age 40. YES, GET YOUR ANNUAL SCREENINGS no matter what! My DCIS was handled with an additional lumpectomy to be sure all the margins were clear, and 6 weeks of radiation. I am now on Tamoxifen (which by the way, I have barely any symptoms from- a bit of a warm-flash in the AMs, but that’s it) and have a small 2 inch scar above my left breast to remind me of my mammograms. If I’d stuck my head in the sand, my children would’ve watched me deal with so much more, and I could’ve lost everything.
THANK YOU for sharing this, Cristen! I’m so glad you’re okay and also glad to hear you’re not feeling many side effects from Tamoxifen.
I skipped last year but plan to go this year. I don’t have any risk factors and find the studies of unnecessary yearly screening compelling.
Good point. Reminds me of Peggy Orenstein’s perspective that breast cancer awareness has gotten a bit histrionic.
If I had ignored the “histronics” and waited until I had a risk factor or symptom to get my screening, I’d be blissfully (read: ignorantly) growing a cancerous mass in my breast by now. Over 35, it should be as normal to get a mammo screening as it is a Pap Test.
My friend, who is also a breast cancer survivor, said exactly the same thing when the study contradicting the recommended annual mammograms came out. I’m not going to stop my annual mammogram AND ultrasound, which I pay for out of pocket since insurance won’t cover it. I do think there’s a fine line between awareness and anxiety, which is the issue Peggy Orenstein, who is herself a breast cancer survivor, has been addressing lately.
I’m good at putting it off…but the people where I get it done have fixed that for me. They make next year’s appointment while I’m there for this year’s. I’ve had several mammograms with issues, so it’s important to get it done regularly.
Very true Pauline, and I will check out Peggy’s commentary. Believe it or not, I don’t get anxious around my mammogram times. I go every 6 months due to my history, but because it was caught and treated early the first time, I feel a calm about it, as in I can trust that the test will save me one way or another. Also the anxiety I felt at the “unknown” when I was first diagnosed gave way to education and acceptance of the situation and now I am not as afraid of the big, bad BC Wolf. Through the Komen website I have met many women who have braved much more than me, so I guess I can face what will come when it comes with a more level head. The Angelina Jolie and Julianna Rancic stories were a bit concerning, they took such radical action when my surgeon advised the lumpectomy would be a smart plan for me. Julianna had the stage 0 cancer like me, I believe, and did a double mastectomy, while Angelina only had the BRCA gene (I’m negative) and did it too. Maybe this is the hype Peggy refers to? I will definitely check her out.
First of all, OMG, I’m so glad it was okay. Yes, I’m late for mine, not out of fear, although I’m always nervous about it, but because I’m broke and have large co-pays. I’m going to call and may have to blow someone in the parking lot for $50 bucks. JUST KIDDING.
HAHA! That’s pretty funny — and not out of the bounds of reason when you consider what the insurance companies have done to us.
Cristen, I understand why Angelina had the double mastectomy because the odds were overwhelmingly against her. It’s such a personal decision though — I have a friend who had your cancer and after much research she decided to be very aggressive and had a mastectomy/reconstruction. Peggy Orenstein has a really interesting take, especially considering she’s a survivor. She feels that the Think Pink campaign has created a culture of fear that leads not only to unnecessary preoccupation but to unnecessary procedures. She got a lot of flack for her position, but I thought she had some good points.
Ladies without insurance, I know that some cities (and states) have organizations that offer free mammorgrams for those who don’t have insurance. Don’t know about NY, but it’s worth asking around. I know of someone in NC who has used the services of one group every year…