1/17/25: Mom...It starts somewhere.

 In December I scheduled a mammogram. Due to the fact I had felt a lump, I had to have a diagnostic mammogram with ultrasound. 

I arrived for my appointment at 9:00am and left just before 2:00pm. 

This was my first mammogram, so I had no idea what to expect. 

The tech did the first round of images.
She came back and indicated the doctor wanted to get more images of the left breast.

"The left? Did you mean the right?" I thought there was a mistake because it had been the right side I felt the lump in.

"No, the left."

I was still clueless.

Looking back, the ultrasound that followed did seem to take a long time. I swear that tech got every millimeter of both breasts. She kept apologizing. 

I was still clueless.

The nurse navigator came to get me. The doctor wanted to meet with me to discuss the results. At this time, they had concerns and wanted to move forward immediately with biopsying some areas where there were masses present.

Masses. Multiple. Both breasts. Lymph nodes. A chain of masses. Various sizes. Close to the nipple. At the 11:00. 8mm. 3-7mm. It went on.

I was starting to feel overwhelmed and lost my composure. What the heck was happening?!

"Is there someone you want to call?"
"No. No one needs to be here for this. I am fine."

It was then that I was prepped for and underwent the biopsies in both breasts as well as some lymph nodes in my armpits. 

The nurses and techs tried to console me throughout the procedure. I did NOT want to be touched. I was so insanely touched out by this point - and when I am in pain or uncomfortable, I want to work through it on my own. 

I don't like to appear weak. I don't like to see the concern or pain in other people's expressions when they look at me. That is MY job to empathize with them and absorb THEIR pain. 

At the end of the appointment, the nurse provided me with 4 breast cancer ribbon ice packs. She informed me that whether or not I chose to stay with St. Luke's they would help me find a surgeon and help me to navigate these next steps. 

I left feeling less clueless...and more terrified of how was I going to tell my mom...my sister...my HUSBAND...my CHILDREN...IF this was cancer.

But it couldn't be. Right?
When I called my mom sobbing on the way home - she kept trying to reassure me.

"Honey, it is nowhere in our family. Not me. Not Grandma. Not Grandmother. Not Aunt Patty."

"Mom...it starts somewhere."