66. Series: Part 4: Say It Isn’t So
“I was going to lose my right breast.
I had cancer.
This is my story.”
It starts with changes.
2004
I was completing my 33rd year with the New York City education system. I was stressed; my position was effectively eliminated, and I didn’t not know what I was coming back to. I had been out of the classroom for 16 years evaluating and placing students into special education. I was going to be sent back to the classroom to do remedial work with students. By January I had made peace with the few months that had passed and the few that were left of my career, in a different position.
So here it is. The movie that has been playing in my head since January 2004, of this trip, this journey, this adventure. The scene opens at The Women’s Comprehensive Care Center on Long Island in New York. I am forever dealing with issues. I deal. I go. I am religious and do what is expected of me. But life is full of the unexpected and threw me a curve ball. I caught it and fell backward. I went for my mammogram, which is usually followed by a sonogram because I manufacture cysts. If anyone wants some, I’ll sell them cheap.
I am always being checked. The radiologist can charge me rent, the team knows me well. He read my digital mammogram, mounted it on a light box. “You’ve got these micro-calcifications, Sue. We have to watch this. Come back in 6 months. “
“It’s ok, Dr. Autz, you know me, everything will be fine.” Pollyanna has spoken.
This was going to be a busy 6 months. Pension consultations, filing of my retirement papers, 2 retirement parties, a son’s Senior Prom and graduation. Summer vacation. I had enough on my mind, but I made my appointment for another mammogram for the beginning of June so I could focus on all the upcoming events.
This time Dr. Autz put the mammogram on the light box and said, seriously, “There are more micro-calcifications since you’ve been here last. You MUST have this checked.” I could see he was alarmed. I assured him that “everything” would be fine.” But I was starting to worry.
I had an appointment with my gynecologist, I told her the findings, and she advised me to follow up immediately with Marie Chen, a breast surgeon. But I was too busy. I was too excited and overwhelmed by life. But I made the appointment to go into the hospital in early July, after I was officially retired and partied, after my son had his prom and graduated. My friends planned another retirement luncheon and I would be sent off into the golden horizon of my new life. I asked them to delay party until after my (first) surgery.
On July 9th I appeared at the hospital for a needle biopsy.
The procedure is barbaric. While compressed in a mammography machine, 2 large needles are speared into the breast as locators so the area in question can be located for biopsy; a kind of lumpectomy without a lump. Once the breast is harpooned it is covered with a cup and taped so that if something or someone bumps into it, the pain is only barely agonizing. Once “speared” the patient has to wait in a little area, wearing surgical garb, until called for to walk to the operating room. The surgery requires general anesthesia.
I wrote to my friends…
“In search of calcifications…
It wasn’t fun but it was bearable. When I got finished with part 1, I looked like a voodoo doll–I probably could have picked up radio Moscow on my right boob. (they located the calcifications on ANOTHER mammo and stuck me with 2 big pins.)
Part 2: waited another half hour, walked down the hall to surgery with a blue shmata (yiddish for rag—actually like a cotton shower cap—could my Brighton Beach “shower” have been an omen?) on my head–like Adelaide in Woolworth’s–and my tuchus (behind) waving in the wind. Got up–barely, on this little narrow table and I went off to sleep with Barry White crooning in my ear. Took about 35 mins. We got there 6:30 a.m. and were home around noon.
Now I am just sore. Oy, us poor women!!! “
There is no doubt that women are the stronger sex!
I had a bought a new outfit for my retirement luncheon; it was to be the following Friday after this procedure, time enough for me to recover.
The day before the party I got a call. It was Dr. Chen. She had the report. The diagnosis was ductal carcinoma in situ. Cancer in ducts. She believed it hadn’t spread. Cancer. She asked me if I was ok. How can you answer that question? But I said, “Fine. What do we have to do?”
The next day I prepared for the luncheon and put on my best face. But it was a mask. I didn’t want this party to be anything but a celebration, but when my closest friends picked me up, I had to tell them. We wore masks into the party. The majority of guests had no clue. It was a worse day than the day before. And it was a celebration. But people noticed I wasn’t myself.
I told the guests well after the fact. Then no one was themselves.
No one would be the same.
Nothing would be the same.
Comments
- Red
Reading this gave me the chills. Powerful and moving. Your courage and strength shines through. Sunday September 30, 2007 – 10:46am (EDT)
It’s only when facing the most dramatic events of in our lives, masks are falling and then your strength and soul is there bare for everyone to see. Sunday September 30, 2007 – 08:22am (MS
Sis, I ‘m glad your closest friends were there for you to give you the emotional support you needed. Hugs… Sunday September 30, 2007 – 11:56am (EDT)
Thanks for telling us it doesn’t necessarily have to be a lump. The harpoon part! With no anestesia? Just getting mammograms is so hard for me. Oh, dear Sue… Lots of hugs! 🙂 Sunday September 30, 2007 – 12:13pm (CDT)
I am not sure life is quite complete without some catastrophe and tragedy..it really test our psychological strength and forces us to give up many of our innocent assumptions plans about who we are and what we will do..hopefully it will also mellow the seriousness in which we take ourselves.~~Papa Sunday September 30, 2007 – 03:16pm (PDT)
You said you told your closest of friends. What did you husband say and do, where was he? Sunday September 30, 2007 – 08:49pm (CDT
OK Sue–we gotta do the shitty part–can’t escape it. But I’m still talking to you so the sucker is under comntrol. Now I am angry!! Double anger because I just missed the shit the Deprt of Ed put you through. Excuse my language–I’m from brooklyn!! I’m mad now and I’ll come back. You are so good! Sunday September 30, 2007 – 09:51pm (EDT)
Saying I’m from brooklyn is just a figure of speech I liked Brooklyn–worked in d. 15 for years. Sunday September 30, 2007 – 11:38pm (EDT)
I’m struck with the irony of all these changes happening around you and cancer rearing its ugly head in the midst of this time. Life is funny that way..when it rains it storms. Wondering your initial thoughts on this unexpected news. It must have invaded everything in your life?I’ll wait for the next installment…lots to take in here,my brave & strong friend! Sunday September 30, 2007 – 11:43pm (EDT)
I know exactly what your talking about..as I said before, Mother and her sister, had breast cancer which apparently puts me in a higher risk category and as I also manufacture cysts I have had the lot more times than I would like to remember,mammograms followed by ultrasounds,followed by needle biopsies.. Well i asked my doc if it were all necessary and he said, the time you don’t do it is the time it will be cancerous.. So my friend, without diminishing at all, what you have and are going through, I do understand. This is wonderfully written and a read compulsory for all women. Again I thank you. Monday October 1, 2007 – 05:42pm (EST)
Of course nothing would be the same after that….We are in fact going through some harrowing times in the family ourselves and I can relate to what you say here. We never do appreciate health till we lose it or in danger of losing it, isn’t it? Monday October 1, 2007 – 04:58pm (SGT)
So movingly and so well told story – yet again. HUGZ from Rii xx Monday October 1, 2007 – 11:36am (CEST)
San souci…. u are one Brave and determined lady….I wish you love, luck and best wishes by a zillions and a circle of embrace… to keep you safe and happy….
BTW i just read abt my frd and batchmate from college, in an Indian Magazine “FEMINA” featuring stories of three ladies … as part of the “power Of Pink” caimpaign and how my fred Battled it out…It hurt more… because she had been my frd when i read abt her ordeal in a magazine.
Look after yourself and thx for spreading awareness in this Regard. Monday October 1, 2007 – 03:38pm (IST) Remove Comment
I can’t stop my tears. Your writing is way too powerful. I hope I’m not bringing you down with my reaction, wonderful sister. Thank you for sharing this. I lost two friends to breast carcinoma in the last couple of years. Please, stay healthy. Monday October 1, 2007 – 12:32pm (CEST)
I too get cysts upon cysts, I don’t get the check ups you do, British NHS. And I too am very blassee about them. I’ll pay more attention
Thanks for blogging your story. Monday October 1, 2007 – 11:37am (BST)
Vinod Monday October 1, 2007 – 07:13pm (IST)
You’ve written a powerful story. The fact that you are here to write it and are writing it is inspiring. Monday October 1, 2007 – 10:59pm (KST)
My grandmother had breast cancer, and had a double mastectomy in her forties. There was never a recurrence of the cancer, and, when she died, in her eighties, it was from something else entirely. I think, by sharing your story, you are doing a great deal to remind people of the importance of early detection, and of the way it can be beaten.
Thank you for your vivid writing. I share the question of why no anesthesia for the needle, especially if you had anesthesia for the rest of the procedure. You are so courageous, both for the way you obviously faced this, and for facing it now to share your experience. I’m happy to know you have come through it, and grateful that you are using your considerable writing talent to convey such an important message.
I’ll be back for the rest of the journey my dear friend. Many hugs!!!
Monday October 1, 2007 – 10:13am (EDT)
hi I’m Di, my friend had an aggressive form of breast cancer, she was married to a much younger shri Lankan and 12 yrs younger than me[I’m 59]she worked in local government. we had gone through a lot together [wanting kids and not being able to have them/abusive husbands/depression]….she had one breast removed with all the reconstruction that went wrong, she was advised to have the other removed because of the agressive type of cancer and family history, her mother had a mastectomy. she lost her job because of all the time she had off[they said the sacking was nothing to do with that]….in between numerous operations/chemotherapy etc she decided to sue the government, which was a hart-rending process: but she won £22,000 compensation which gave her the freedom to move to skri-lanka, she still comes back to have bits done, she was with me this spring to have stuff done about stuff that didn’t heal well, they sujjested another op to cosmetically tidy things up but she may decide enough is enough…….I’ve never seen her so well mentally, she was a go getting accountant and now she volunteers for a world wide animal rescue charity in Lanka and she’s just like she was when she was 22….her young lankan lover became her husband just before the cancer started and they are still very much together. I couldn’t read all your story because it brought back all the pain I went through with her, and I’m not quite up for it today but I will come back and read it. thank you for writing it. Diana…xxx Tuesday October 2, 2007 – 02:24pm (BST)
Nothing would be the same.
I can so relate except it was colon cancer my husband and June 19.2005 and it affects EVERYONE
None of us are the same.
Your story is heart wrenching Sue but I thank God you are still here Tuesday October 2, 2007 – 11:38am (EDT)
I don’t know what to say–I see a tragedy yet strength and courage from you. Best wishes Friday October 5, 2007 – 10:09pm (VUT)
awww honey, can feel the tears…the fears…..Life’s curve balls take us all the way into left field. xxo Sorry and glad you are doing so well. Sunday October 7, 2007 – 07:10pm (EDT)
Oh, dear, that must be so sad and scary to know all about it. I can’t find any words to describe my feelings. I just hope that things like this won’t happening to you anymore. (^O^)v
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lunarechoes wrote on Oct 3, ’08
And again, I am speechless but so very moved.
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interesting that stress has at least a part in it. I think prevention needs to be holistic.
as I was saying on another Blog about breast cancer, recently – I’ve been using a natural progesterone cream since January, as I found out that some symptoms I was having are typical of oestrogen dominance [which can occur at some stage of pre-menopause]. Oestroegn dominance can also cause fibrocystic breasts, and, sadly, breast cancer in some. http://www.johnleemd.com/store/estrogen_dom.html just checking, Sans Souci, this isn’t your story is it? or is it? |
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 4, ’08
smudge77 said
This is my story, all of it!
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interesting that stress has at least a part in it. I think prevention needs to be holistic.
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sanssouciblogs said
thanks Sans Souci
I had read that you had completed 33 years in education and you looked so young in your picture, so thought you might be speaking of someone else. Forgive me for not being able to read all the series just now… tired [hormones] – stress [teenage daughter] cooking dinner [5-8 hours ahead on GMT time] But this is one blog I would like to come back to thank you |
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 4, ’08
smudge77 said
My cancer was not estrogen related! Stay with me and keep on reading!
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sweetpotatoqueen wrote on Oct 8, ’08
Still reeling at the thought of having such a life altering event plopped into your life during all the other chages that were simultaneous with this news. I know how this story ends but I still am struck by your courage and strength throughout this journey!
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 8, ’08
sweetpotatoqueen said
Thanks Miss SPQ; I guess I succumbed to “auto-pilot,” that’s part of the beauty of shock–it helps one distance from the full impact of reality!
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danceinsilence wrote on Oct 16, ’08
The little girl grew, but held onto certain memories to rationalize her now modern day situation. Be calm, be calm … how can one be calm when the storm has already broken. The external was fine … the internal was a mess, with unanswered questions, almost afraid of answers.
I quite agree … nothing would ever be the same again. |
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 16, ’08
danceinsilence said
As usual, a great comment and observation. And nothing was the same again. I sometimes look back in disbelief and wonder how I got through it.
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Having gone through this with a few friends I understand all you went through. For me I will never forget health class in Jr High. When the instructor told us that 1 in every 5 of us would get breast cancer. I looked around the room and wondered if I was one of the 5. There were 20 of us in that classroom. To this day that statistic scares me!
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