It's that time again!

October is breast cancer awareness month however to me every month/day is an opportunity to do our due diligence and take a good, energetic feel while performing a self-exam.

Over the past 2 months I know of 3 women who have had to go through the dreaded doctor exams, ultra sounds, and biopsies due to questionable mammograms.  Luckily all three made it to the finish line with “All clear” from their doctors but some of us weren’t that lucky.

My luck went askew in 2000 in the 11th month of my every once a year mammogram.  I had plans to go to Italy and wanted to get my test out of the way so that I could thoroughly enjoy my trip abroad.  I did end up going on my trip however I carried more information about my future with me than I had bargained for because 3 days after my return I was scheduled for a lumpectomy.

In 2008 I was working with a life coach (see, we all need one) and she suggested I write a book to make my standing as a coach more credible and so I did.  In the opening of my book, OVER 40 FIT AND FAB, I start with a chapter called “How I Got Here” and over the next few weeks of October I will be sending you an excerpt of my own experience with having Stage one, infiltrating ductal carcinoma starting from the day of my mammogram.

“In July of 2000, I had just finished my first year at USM when I went in for my annual mammogram. I obediently allowed the technician to squish and maneuver my breasts for a total of 8 images. I then plopped down on a chair in the waiting room with a television that still had rabbit ears and a picture that looked like it was being broadcast through a blizzard. There I sat for way too long, feeling like I was suffocating as I watched women who had arrived long after me being sent on their way with a smile and sigh of relief that would last them until next year. I flipped through year old magazines, stared absently at the snowy TV screen and soon found that I was following the progression of a feeling of heaviness that started growing in the area of my heart and then began to sink steadily into the pit of my stomach. I knew, instinctively that something was not right here.

Finally, the tech came in and said that we needed to take more pictures. I remember standing up to accompany her and feeling as though I had lead weights attached to my limbs. My heart had migrated back into my chest and now felt as though it were trying to beat its way out of my body. I was having a hard time hearing because of the fear ringing in my ears. It was only the momentum of survival instinct that propelled me to follow her out of that horrid little waiting room to be squished and manipulated one more time. Four more views, then I went back to the room with the old magazines and the decrepit TV.

The wait this time was shorter but instead of coming back to tell me that everything was fine and allowing me to indulge in the smile and sigh of relief enjoyed by all those other women I had watched come and go, the technician invited me in to see the radiologist who had a slew of x-rays up on the viewing board. There I stood, looking at Jude’s breast history over the last 7 years. The radiologist kindly directed my attention to the spot on one image that meant I was about to experience something that I thought was only supposed to happen to other people.

The doctor pointed to what he called a microcalcification and showed me how its presence differed from my previous mammograms. Microcalcifications are small calcium deposits that can occur regularly in breasts and from a layperson’s perspective, or just mine, they look like tiny little star bursts. To the medical world they are referred to as “clusters”. But it is how the clusters are patterned within the breast that determines whether they mean initiating a call to arms or not.

“Is he nuts?” I thought. It looked the same as all the rest to me but maybe I was going blind as well as deaf. Without too much of a pause, he suggested that I see a specialist and get a biopsy as soon as possible. I tried to gather saliva in my mouth in order to articulate my whirling thoughts into words. I had a rush of adrenalin and the questions came tumbling out like dice being thrown across the table. “What are the chances this is nothing? “Are you sure you’re seeing this correctly?” “What happens if it is cancer?” “Do you think that if it is, that I will lose my…” Nope, I couldn’t go there. I realized it was time to let the little girl inside me who was the impetus behind all of the questioning take time to go out and play because the adult in me needed to take charge. Feeling as though I was in a trance, I got dressed and went up to the receptionist to pay for the mammogram. It struck me how ridiculous it was to have to pay to find out that I may have cancer and die. No balloon, no lollypop, I grabbed my x-rays, flipped open my cell phone and called a breast surgeon I had seen in the past when I’d had a benign cyst. It was Friday. Crap! One of the biggest lesson I learned from this experience is…”

Next week I’ll share with you the next section called “Never Have a Mammogram on a Friday!!”

Every challenge we come across that causes us to lose our breath and feel a degree of fear is one that we must look at.  Fear is here to give us the opportunity to pause in our busy life and question what it is that we are being asked to learn about ourselves.  There is no one lesson, big or small that should be cast aside because without facing our fears we are left with years and years of more of the same.

Are you up to date on your mammogram this year?

To your brilliance of taking care of yourself unfolding,

PS.

Thanks for tuning in! Feel free to drop me a note :) And if there is anything you want me to discuss, don’t hesitate to let me know.