Four years ago today I had the mammogram that changed my life. A routine mammogram as part of my overall physical. The doctor had done a thorough (and I do mean thorough) manual examination and felt nothing but as it had been two years since my last mammogram she wrote me a referral. I was blessed at my age to be having regular mammograms...they aren't "the norm" in Ontario until age 50. In my 30s I had felt a lump (turned out to be a cyst) and had it checked with a mammogram which became my baseline. The fact that my maternal grandmother had died of metastasized breast cancer factored into my continuing to be checked on a regular basis.
I had a busy day May 4, 2005 with a job interview at 11:00 a.m. but when I had called to make the appointment for the mammogram, the only time available was 8:00 a.m. that day or I would have had to wait another month. Providence? Divine intervention? I took the appointment without hesitating. Instinct maybe more than anything because I had learned many years ago to listen when that little voice in my head tells me to do something. Your body always has a way of communicating with you.
I spent the day running between appointments and when I reached home to have a cup of tea, I had just sat down when the phone rang. It was 3:00 p.m. There are some details you just never forget. It was my family doctor (actually it was a wonderful young woman who was filling in for my own doctor who was on a maternity leave) telling me there were some concerns with the mammogram and we'd need to do further exams. It appeared that there were microcalcifications on the right breast.
My stomach dropped to the floor and my hand was shaking as I replaced the receiver on the phone. And I knew. I am not a negative person. I'm not a pessimist. But I knew that those microcalcifications were cancer. Was it something in the tone of the doctor's voice? Or the urgency of re-testing and then an appointment with a surgeon? Again, I think it was everything hitting me at once and that "knowing" of me listening to my body and accepting the fact. I kept an open mind during the testing the the two biopsies. The day I met with the surgeon and was told that indeed I did have breast cancer...IDC (Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma) I was already prepared for what was ahead of me, and everyone else who was part of my world.
It is traditional to mark the anniversaries of survivorship by the date of the last treatment. For me that would be May 2007 when I had completed chemotherapy, radiation and herceptin. However I have never been one to hold completely with tradition. The anniversary I follow is the day I had the mammogram. That was the beginning of my survivorship.
It changed my life in so many ways. Oh yes, cancer is a tenacious, aggressive beast. Once it "marks" you it haunts you for the rest of your life. But there is so much more to life than just having to deal with cancer which I always spell with a small "c". I would never give it a capital - would give it much too much importance. It deserves no respect.
And yet. Through all of the tests and treatments, with all that I put my body through both physically, psychologically and emotionally I don't dwell on the negative aspects. I still say to this day that it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I rediscovered my faith, I realized that I have always been a spiritual person and my spirit grew and expanded as I allowed myself to live within it. I was reminded daily of the important values in life and I rediscovered joy and beauty. I learned to live each day just as it is, for all that is and all that it can be.
I give thanks every single day for every blessing in my life. And every May 4th I will continue to celebrate the mammogram that saved my life in every.single.way.
