A cancer diagnosis sets off a domino effect like none other.
In my case (if I don’t count my mom’s diagnosis), the first domino toppled on Easter 2010.
My cancer domino effect was set in motion.
Easter 2010 was when the chest pain started.
Chest pain led to wait and see.
Wait and see turned into wrong assumption of a “heart attack,” which in turn led to an ER visit.
ER visit led to an EKG (all clear) followed by a CT-scan.
Scan resulted in the mass sighting. (Why do they call it that?)
Mass sighting followed by a mammogram marked as urgent, followed by an ultra-sound.
Mass sighting confirmed.
Next came initial meeting with surgeon number one to talk things over.
Mass sighting deemed highly suspicious.
Things were set in motion. So much to do.
An ultra-sound needle core biopsy was ordered.
That wasn’t so bad.
A different doctor called and said the words,“You have a cancer.” (More on that a**hole later)
Disbelief and a feeling of disconnect.
Fear and anger.
Initial meeting with oncologist took place the very next day.
Genetic testing now required due to family history.
Consulted with plastic surgeon to “get our ducks in a row.”
Results came back – positive for BRCA2 deleterious mutation.
My genes were tainted.
Plans finalized for a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction.
Dear hubby and I established secret code for when I woke up to be our signal for clear lymph nodes.
June 2, 2010, bilateral mastectomy day with immediate reconstruction.
Woke up (thank goodness!)
No secret code needed.
Lymph nodes not clear.
Chemo required. Shit.
Considerable ranting and raving (by me of course).
Expanders filled, how many times – who can remember?
Reluctantly attended chemo education class to prepare.
Refused to shave my hair off.
July 2010 chemo began, as did side effects.
Metallic taste, neuropathy, fatigue, flushing, insomnia, mouth sores.
Did I mention fatigue?
I was “lucky.”
Didn’t feel lucky.
What happened to the old me?
Hair fell out.
But not all of it!
Aha! I was right!
Received a certificate.
Are you kidding me?
Didn’t feel like celebrating.
Tore it up.
Started picking up the pieces of my life.
Shaved off remaining hair strands.
Expanders traded out for implants.
A new bosom.
Miss my old one.
More surgery recommended.
More body parts must go.
Hysterectomy and BSO.
And nipple reconstruction.
Done. With the physical parts anyway.
Relief, but no euphoria.
Good enough was/is just that, good enough.
Moving on to new normal. Stupid term.
What’s that anyway?
Life goes on.
And that’s a good thing.
Here I am.
More worn, still adapting, perhaps wiser, but certainly not better.
One day at a time.
That’s all we have anyway.
Yes, cancer and the domino effect.
How has cancer, or another life event, created a domino effect in your life?