November 19, 2007

So this whole thing started back in June. I was doing this amazing program with my good friend Brian Grube who directs the summer enrichment program at NAU (Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff) designed to get bright but struggling students to explore higher education. The kids live in the dorms and go to classes three times a day to learn via problem-based education. My group explored the Wupatki Ruins to solve the problem of vandalism and graffiti. At the end of the week, they created and presented a Power Point presentation of their solutions. Amazing and powerful! During that time I was there I felt a lump in my right breast and wasn't too concerned because it felt a lot like the cystic changes that occur from time to time. But when I got back to Prescott after a month at NAU, I decided to get my annual mammogram and check it out. A week later the results arrived in the mail which said everything was normal. Meanwhile, I had many menopausal symptoms so I had been trying to find an OB-GYN but couldn't get an appointment until October. Since the mammogram was negative, I felt like I could wait and chalked up the lump to menopausal cystic changes. I was also having a lot of stomach pain and upset linked with back pain that I felt were a little more pressing than the lump. In addition, I had tendonitis from the move to our new home,so by the time I went to meet my doctor (actually a nurse practitioner in the same office) on October 29th, I had a host of problems to talk about. She felt the lump and ordered a more comprehensive (i.e. more painful!) mammogram and some bloodwork. So now I'm beginning to worry (a useless pursuit) and on November 5th I heard from the nurse practitioner. She was concerned about a high white blood cell count but my pap smear was negative for cervical cancer, so that was a relief, but then she ordered a pelvic ultrasound to explore what was causing the symptoms of menopause (blood tests revealed that I was not menopausal). On November 7 I met with the doctor who had no answers and no results in my chart about the ultrasound. She also ordered an endometrial biopsy for December 12 (which seemed much too far away as the word biopsy is far too closely linked with the word cancer. She promised a phone call by Friday. No call came and the fears mounted. By November 13 Chris called our friend Eric Nelson, who is a surgeon, to get some advice about how to get some answers. It turns out that Eric specializes in breasts and hands (an interesting combination don't you think) and he made an appointment for that very day. I went in, he did an ultrasound, saw the mass that had not shown up in both mammograms, and did a biopsy. Two days later, Chris walked into my classroom after school and I knew he was going to tell me my suspicions had been realized. We immediately went to Eric's office where I proceeded to fall apart in torrents of fear and terror. He did everything to reassure both of us, but thoughts of my mom's battle with cancer were blazing in my mind. He told us that all the other things I was going through could not be related to the breast cancer, but his wisdom couldn't penetrate the overwhelming fear that the cancer was everywhere. Before we left, he held our hands and prayed with us, and in that moment I knew we were in the best hands possible.
We decided that night to tell Jake and Hannah the next day because we knew we would have to make a lot of phone calls and we didn't want to hide things from the kids. The next day was Friday and I struggled through every moment of school. I was afraid that the dam would burst at any second so I kept to myself and avoided talking to anyone (except my students of course). During my prep period I went online to find information about how to talk to the kids about cancer and I came across Deanna Favre's website. The information I found there was surprisingly comforting and calming. I felt better immediately and started exploring more of her site which had an entire section devoted to survivors. It was a pivotal moment because I decided then and there that survival was the only option and I would focus all my efforts on stories of hope instead of fear. That night we sat the kids down and told them. Of course, my plan to maintain composure to avoid scaring them dissolved immediately into an ugly cry. When I finally got the words out, it was absolutely gut-wrenching. I knew that their initial reaction would be fear because of their grandma's death, but Chris and I reassured them that, first of all, I cry at phone commercials and Extreme Makeover Home Edition every Sunday night, and that I wasn't crying out of fear of the cancer, but rather I was worried about how they would feel. I regrouped pretty quickly and we were able to reassure them that I am a much healthier and stronger person than grandma was and I was ready for a fight. Their fears rapidly dissipated and we began to talk about what was in store for me and our family. They were amazing and thirty minutes later we went to see Enchanted for a family movie night out and by the time they went to bed, they were calm and content that mom was going to kick some serious cancer booty! I wrote in my gratitude journal that night:

• I found out I have cancer today - I have so much to fight for, I am a survivor, I have a strong, loving family, I have a huge support network, and I have an amazing husband.