Life in the Ozarks : Cancer is a personal thing; you never know
Posted on Wednesday, July 23, 2008
URL: http://www.nwanews.com/rhtn/Editorial/4143/
One out of eight women will get breast cancer. So, it shouldn’t surprise me that one of us seven sisters will get it. I’m the one. I’m the statistic. They found the lumps during a routine mammogram.
I always thought I’d dread the big C, but I didn’t. As a child I learned not to feel, that way you won’t get hurt. Though I’d spent years trying to rid myself of that trait, I guess it kicked in when my doctor said, “ You have a slow-growing cancer. ”
My family seemed to feel it the worse. Sisters called, all three of my kids were concerned, but I had no fear. I kept reassuring them I was ok.
The waiting time in between tests was the hardest part. It took five days to get the results after a biopsy, another month of tests / doctor appointments before the surgery. I kept thinking, I’m glad it is slow-growing. (The doctor called it an Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma. ) From the time I took my mammogram until I’ll finish radiation will be over five months. That doesn’t seem like a long time, unless it’s happening to you — slow motion.
After the lumpectomy, I was declared cancer-free — the surgeon (whom I adored ) said she got it all. Radiation was just like an added insurance. I didn’t have to take chemo, since the lymph nodes, which were removed during surgery, showed all clear. I’d see men and women as I went in for treatments that were so much worse. Many had lost their hair. Most were much younger, in their prime of life. I kept thinking how lucky I was.
As I said, I had no concerns. I did keep a diary as one friend suggested. This is one day’s entry: “ I really don’t fell stressed out. I’m having thoughts about my vulnerability, and have begun cleaning out some of my stuff (file cabinets, drawers, closets, took a load of stuff to Salvation Army — these were all things that needed done — I’m just more motivated now ). But I haven’t been scared or depressed or felt bad. I just realized my mortality. I did pray some. I know God is in control. This is really the way I feel. No matter what happens, it’s okay, because I know God is with me and He’s in charge. I wouldn’t want it any other way. ” My faith is reaffirmed. I don’t fear dying.
The first night after getting the news as I lay in bed awake I berated myself for skimping in my health care. I took my Lipitor and Fosamax, exercised, but was less careful about doctor visits, tests and procedures. I imagined all kinds of things and pains as I couldn’t sleep. I worried what would happen to Jerry, who would take care of him if anything happened to me. But mostly I went about my regular routine — Thursday bridge, playing games on computer, watching TV, reading, exercising / walking. Jigsaw puzzles.
One of the perks was meeting the nicest people in all those clinics and doctor offices I visited. At the Breast Center in Fayetteville one nurse doing a test was so gentle it brought tears to my eyes. I wasn’t used to being treated so kindly. There were a couple of snippy receptionist, but I found the further I went into the offices the friendlier everyone was. “ I really don’t care what they know, I just want them to care, ” I’ve often said. Why are doctors and nurses and caregivers so kind, and the receptionists sometimes not ? Go figure.
Cancer is a personal thing. I’ve known neighbors, friends, acquaintances who’ve died — and lived — with cancer; was even at the bedside of a dear friend as she lost her struggle to the disease. But, until it happens to you, there’s no way you can know.
I will be even more careful with my health from now on. There’s something in all of us that wants to live as long as possible.
Marie Putman is a longtime freelance columnist for The Rogers Hometown News.