Making Friends with an Enemy

Hawaii 2008

My friend Jeni told me that I had to 'make friends with my cancer' to integrate the experience so I can move on with living. Personally I would never want a friend like invasive breast cancer. But it did arise in my body and until excised by a surgeon, this breast cancer nestled close to my breast plate.

In March 2007, after I got back from a terrific holiday in Thailand I went for my annual check up. My doctor gave me a request for a mammogram. I told her that I didn't need the screening. No one in my family had breast cancer. 'Go on,' she said. 'It's been two years.'

On April 12, I went for the mammogram. I had a little sore spot under my left arm pit which they carefully marked for further attention. I waited in my little paper nightie and the technician said they wanted to take a closer look at something. This Breast Centre is so thorough in how they check you out, I did not have the slightest foreshadowing...I was just worrying that the appointment was taking so long.

They were not interested in the sore spot under my left arm pit. Just glands they said. They wanted to do an ultra sound of the right breast. And, before I knew what was happening, the radiologist was coming to take a tissue sample.

Four women huddled over me in a little treatment room so tenderly. Women have a way of telegraphing information. As they worked to locate and take samples of the 'area' they said things like; it's so deep, it's lying right on the breast plate, and its very hard to get to reach. I could tell that the news might be grim. My family tried to tell me not to be such a catastrophic thinker but the women told me so I could prepare myself.

On April 16 my doctor called me to come in for the results. That is never good when the doctor wants to see you. She said, 'I know you feel like a house just dropped on your head,' but it was my house that was leveled. An appointment with the surgeon was set up for April 17.

That day I had to tell my family. I always thought that if I got something like cancer I would just bravely keep it to myself. But I know why I had this notion. Because, telling my family I had breast cancer was just about the worst experience of my life, without exception. I killed me to make them cry and worry about me. I am supposed to help them, not cause this kind of anguish.

My husband was knocked over. I had to contact my youngest daughter who was holidaying with my sister in Hawaii. They both cried so much that it was awful. I had to tell my oldest daughter. She was devastated. And I realize that for my two daughters it was a double whammy. For their mother and for their potential health concerns in the future. At this point, I only had a diagnosis, no idea of what kind of cancer, how much it had spread and if I was about to die soon.

So, as a finger in the eye of fate, we had fish and chips and the most expensive bottle of champagne I could buy for dinner.