Oddly enough, this all started in the month of October (Breast Cancer Awareness Month). As it would happen, the day I got THE CALL about my lump was also the same day that a work-sponsored breast cancer benefits/resources postcard arrived in the mail. The same day I also got a promotional flyer from O'Connor Mortuary. The irony of it all actually cracked me up. God does indeed have a sense of humor. The benefits and resources are amazing. There are even camps and retreats! I kind of felt like I had joined some macabre VIP club.
Once I announced on social media my diagnosis, just about everyone (and their brother) have been coming out of the woodwork to tell me how they had breast cancer and how well they are now doing. It's almost been kind of anti-climatic. Breast cancer is no longer the "death sentence" it used to be nor a guarantee of horrible mutiliation.
When the biopsy results came in and the surgeon called me with the bad news, I was out on a walk during a work break. They seemed very perplexed with my matter of fact reaction and seemed caught a bit off guard. I guess they expected me to burst into tears? Having gone through 2 previous major abdominal surgeries that rerouted my internal plumbing in the late 1980's, breast cancer seemed mild in comparison to what I have already gone through.
Judging from a lot of the reactions on Facebook Breast Cancer Groups, my response was atypical. Many of them just fell apart and were comforted by their more experienced "pink sisters". It's quite an education being on these groups. The list of side effects of radiation, chemotherapy and surgery are long and scary. But they are also a great source of helpful information. What products to get ahead of time and various websites with loads of resources.
Right now I'm in a holding pattern until December 15th. That's my follow up visit with the oncologist to determine whether chemotherapy will be used first or not, delaying the lumpectomy/radiation parts for at least six months. I initially thought this would be several weeks then it would be over but apparently treatment of some kind can go on for years.
I'm actually more worried about the effects of chemotherapy/radiation than I am cancer. Why? Because since the age of 17 I have come to have a personal relationship with the God of the Universe who I discovered to my amazement, loves me more than I can possibly fathom. I've been reading (and watching) a lot of personal accounts of people who have died, seen heaven and come back to tell of their experience. One of the main common denominators among them all was that NONE of them wanted to come back to earth (except those with young children). They suffered depression (and often physical illness) after their return and are homesick for their heavenly home.
I don't have a death wish, but after hearing all these accounts of how wonderful heaven is, and how loving Jesus is, I can honestly say I'd rather be there than here.
I'm not looking forward to another physical ordeal. Most medical procedures seem to merely be modern forms of physical torture.
In the coming weeks I'll document my journey and hopefully be able to glorify the Lord in my life with my personal brand of Jewish humor.
Marlayne