Another View
I am distrustful of allopathic medicine. The benefits and technologies are amazing, but I find most doctors to be interested in pushing pills rather than helping you get well. Some of the pills do help you, but often only address one issue and cause many more issues that are benignly called “side effects.”
So, imagine my surprise when I was told that I had a cancerous spot in my breast. I choose not to label it breast cancer, but rather a cancerous spot that happens to be in my breast. Actually, I see it more as a bad thought that I need to excise.
I am not vigilant about getting mammograms or pap smears. I was slightly better in my younger days, but since my gynecologist left town (through no fault of mine), I have not been as well behaved. It has been spotty to say the least. My new, wonderful medical practice recently asked when was my last “well woman” exam. I had no idea. Since I like the nurse practitioners so much and they practice my kind of medicine (a combination of allopathy with naturopathic with emphasis on the latter), I dutifully called and scheduled the appointment. At the end came the query I was expecting, “How about a mammogram?”
I told them I knew that was coming, sighed, and said, “I’ll go so we can stop talking about it.”
I took the earliest morning appointment which meant there was no radiologist at the mammography place, so I received the call I always get about my dense breasts saying they needed another pass. When I arrived, I was told that there were two places of concern, and I would be having an ultrasound as well. The ultrasound tech was quite chatty about my right breast and that I had a cyst, but after the ultrasound on the left she fell silent. I have enough experience to know this is rarely good. While she was off chatting with the radiologist, I looked at the images and noted the differences. The cyst was much larger than that dot on the left.
The doctor came in and said that he believed I needed a needle biopsy. That was followed by his commenting that the dot was really no larger than it had been in 2013, thus letting me know when my last mammogram occurred. What’s eight years?!!
Again, I agreed not because I believed it was anything, but rather to shut them up if and when I came back again. It is always something. I had had a biopsy in the left breast 20 years before and it had turned out to be a fat cell. Imagine that on me?!!
The phone rang and a woman with a very serious and breathy voice began to talk at me but saying nothing really. I stopped her and said, “Say what you need to say, but for God’s sake use a normal voice.”
She began again using the “oh poor you” or “Digger O’Dell” voice that I loathe. Again, I stopped her and said, “It is either cancer or not, so just tell me because you are making this far more painful than it needs to be.”
“Are you sitting down?”
“No and I don’t need to. Spill it or I am hanging up.”
So, that is how I found out that it appeared that the third of an inch dot in my scans had decided to go rogue.
Not long after the news, a friend called and asked if I had biopsy results. I replied, “We’re good to go.”
“Well, that’s good, but I was curious if you would tell me. Would a codependent person fess up or not want to bother anyone?” I laughed.
I had made the decision to not share the news far and wide, but not for codependent reasons I thought. First, I did not want anyone’s opinion of how I should proceed because most of the people I know believe doctors and, in my opinion, follow blindly or at least unquestioningly. I also did not want fear and pity to enter my arena. I was not afraid or overly concerned. It was something to take care of not to give energy and worry. Finally, most of my friends had their own bag of rocks to deal with and they did not need my added weight. Ah, there it was, the caretaker taking care when perhaps she needed it, but I didn’t.
Luckily, I had needed that biopsy of the same breast 20 years ago. The surgeon I saw then was wonderful and now I had him in my back pocket. Just get the MRI and make an appointment. The surgeon got me in with two days’ notice.
The doctor was as delightful and present as I remembered him to be. He performed the history of breast cancer in 5 minutes which was fascinating, then he began the after care. It was a discussion of the history of radiation therapy leading up to the newest techniques one of which is targeted radiation through a tube for five days. I told him I would choose that one and was informed we had to wait and see what kind of cancer it really is. He believed it to be namby pamby cancer which I always thought was mamby pamby, but of course had to look up online since I spoke to several people who had never heard either version of the term. It means lacking energy and strength in this instance.
So, on Friday it came out. It has not been awful. A bit achy, but I have not missed a dog walk and can do most things myself. I had a friend here for five days helping me more with Bob than with me, but it was nice to know that there are folks standing by. I only told three people for the first five weeks, then I had to tell my nephew the week of because I needed a ride to the surgi center, so that increased the number to six. Some folks have been miffed, but I needed everyone to see me as healthy and whole. I was never worried about the “cancer”, but I was terrified of running the gauntlet of doctors and their opinions. The bad thought is gone, and the pathology report shows no cancer outside of the one-third inch area. It appears I will qualify for the twice a day/five-day targeted radiation and after that, it will be in the rearview mirror. At least that is the plan. I seemed to have navigated the treacherous shoals of allopathy of now.
Oh – and since October is breast cancer month, go get a mammogram in case you have not done that lately. I know, but it turns out it can be a good idea.
