Ground Zero

I found a lump in my left breast in the early summer of 2022. I am only 39 years old. I am a small business owner without health insurance. And sometimes, when you have no insurance, you make decisions to wait things out until they prove themselves to be ACTUAL issues. I didn't normally do breast exams and I live an extremely healthy lifestyle....well, maybe a have a wee bit too much alcohol, but who doesn't when you are surviving a pandemic. I decided I was ovulating, so it was probably that. I made note to check back later.

It didn't go away, and it began to change and move a little. I became worried and decided to voice my concerns to my partner, David. To say we both were naïve is an understatement. We moved slowly to find a health plan. It was January before it was established.

I called into the doctor on January 9th. Also, full disclosure, I don't remember dates. But, the year of 2022 was a year I will never forget. I got into an OB-Gyn on January 16th for a pap smear and breast exam. I figured, I was way overdue for this visit anyway. My friend/neighbor worked for this particular doctor and knew the situation. While I was in the exam, she was on the phone arranging my appointment for a mammogram and ultrasound at the imaging place nearby.

On January 27, 2022, I reported to my mammogram and ultrasound appointment. This was the first of many experiences that made me feel inhuman. The "gowns" I had to wear, the waiting in these tiny "rooms" the size of a closet, and I was disappointed by several of the staff members treating women like cattle, not taking their anxiety in consideration.

At the end of my ultrasound, a radiologist entered the room to basically tell me I have cancer without actually telling me I have cancer. It was the most blindsided I have ever been in my life. We then made an appointment for a biopsy.

On February 1st, I sat my 17 year old daughter down to tell her what was going on. I told her we weren't sure exactly what was going on, but the biopsy will tell us for sure if we have a reason to worry. I am fairly sure that conversation was more for me than her. And on February 2nd, I wasn't worried about the groundhog, I was reporting back to the place of my ultrasound to have another ultrasound and this time I will have a biopsy.

February 3rd is the day everything changed and life as I knew it changed. I received the call with the dreaded words "you have cancer". I was riding home, my daughter driving, from her physical appointment at the doctor's office.

My daughter held me that day. She embraced me in a way I haven't ever been hugged. I won't forget that. I told her that day I would do everything in my power to get rid of this, and to be healthy and strong. We are going to do senior in high school things, and I wasn't going to miss that.

February was a blur. So much anxiety, fear, dread, and uncertainty.

March 1st I reported to the hospital for my first chemo treatment. I was so scared. I wanted to run away. And I did think of just that. I could have done it when I was left alone inside the bathroom of the chemo room. The exit was right beside the bathroom. I could have left. But, if I made that choice, how much time would I have? I thought of my daughter and how I told her I would be there for her senior year, and then I walked back to receive the poisons to fight a cancer.

After 16 treatments, on July 26th, I completed my very last chemo treatment. After a few days of feeling clobbered by poisons, I rose to happily deep clean my kitchen. I had a whole new attitude on life and a clear vision on what I want my life and priorities to be. I gained this second chance, and I will never take another moment for granted.

At the time of this entry, I still have 6 more months of immunotherapy, surgeries, and radiation. But, this is my story. This is my X-factor. And I won't take one moment for granted. I live to live.

Stay tuned.