It's one of those dates I will remember. December 22, 2010. The day of diagnosis. The day I became a patient. The day I learned I have breast cancer.
I had had the mammogram in October; the report came back all clear. Within a few days I felt the lump. It can't be anything, I just got the report back that said I had a great pair :-) So I waited a few days, then called my doctor. An ultrasound and biopsy are up next and still popular word was that it didn't look like anything to worry about.
Still, I worried. What if I get sick? I couldn't say the word, I always referred to it as "being sick."
Then, December 22, 2010. The doctor's office called and asked me to come in that day. And bring a friend or family member. I fell to the floor and didn't hear the rest of the message; I passed the phone to Jason to listen to it and I crawled away, not wanting to hear. I spent the rest of the day sobbing. Jason, my aunt and my cousin came to the appointment with me - the four of us squeezed into the teeny examining room with the doctor, while my other cousin was in the waiting room. The rest asked questions and took notes for me - I zoned out after the doctor said the words.
I have slept a lot since then - sleeping so I can't think about it. I don't want to think about it, I don't want to know what I'll have to go through. I think of my Mom, a 24-year survivor; and my friend, Dyane, who's recently gone through treatment and is doing fabulously. But I'm not as strong as either of them. They're both amazing women.
I know I have fight in me, I do. And I know I have to get through this. Like it or not.
And I know I have support - I've felt it ever since December 22, 2010. From prayers and hugs to baking and flowers to "Kare packages" to people just listening to me and offering support. From friends and family to people I've never met. I feel it. And I thrive on it. It lifts me up.
I write this for me, to remember. When it's all over with, I want to remember how afraid I was to go through it and to know that I did it, I made it through.