I’ve spent the last 48 hours thinking I had breast cancer. A call from the radiologist’s office came Wednesday morning asking me to come back in for “more pictures of your right breast”. No more information than that. I’ve given that message several times to women in the last 10 years of my nurse practitioner practice. I’ll never do it again without thinking about my own experience. I actually felt the blood drain out of my face at her words.
I spent the next two days thinking that I wouldn’t live to see my girls graduate from high school or college, get married or have their own children. Thinking that I wouldn’t grow old beside this man I’ve been fortunate enough to spend the last 11 1/2 years with. That we would not be planning our life after retirement from the Air Force next summer, but rather our life with chemo and baldness and proximity to doctors. I told my sister and my husband but couldn’t really bring myself to talk about it with many folks. I know that most ofthe time these things turn out to be nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
Frankly, it’s been the most terrifying 48 hours I can remember having.
It’s fine. More x-rays (who knew they could actually mash my boob flatter than a pancake) and an ultrasound later it turns out that I’ve got a small cyst (like 3 mm small) and need no more than my normal yearly follow up.
Whew.
And the panic and fear that my time here on this earth would be cut short is already fading. It won’t be long before I’ll hardly be able to remember what these last few hours have felt like. I’ll start taking it all for granted again, just like we all do. The certainty of another day just like the day before will once again be the norm.
But I’m glad it happened. Kind of. It’s been a good reminder that I have way less control over things that I’d like to believe. That I need to be certain that I’m living the life God has given me with joy and with gratitude for every day. That I’m looking to Him each day for guidance about what that looks like for me.
And that I’m thankful. Every day
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I’m so glad everything turned out positively. I sometimes think that the mental stress of NOT knowing is worse than actually dealing with a difficult truth! Thank you for including me in your blog! You are one of God’s special people!
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God is good. Remember the 13 year survivor you know up north. Thanks for sharing
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Never blogged before, but glad you’ve included me. Sorry to hear that you have had such a burden to ponder these past couple of days. So glad, though, that all is well.
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I had that same call when I was 23 and it turned out to be some what of the same thing ~ But I was terrified because I had just learned by Jesse’s death that age doesn’t matter when death is in the picture. ~ I am so glad that everything turned out ok
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Sara,
I love the blog and so grateful you sent me the link. I am also thankful your scare was just that and nothing more. Look forward to reading more.
Sheila
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Sara,
So nice to hear about you. Of course, I know MORE about your life story than most. The way children can change you life is truly amazing. I’ve visited many couples with their children long after the memory of infertility treatment has disappeared. I could not even imagine what it would be like without children as a part of their lives. And you and JD are no different. The first thought about the possibility of breast cancer was being there for your children. Glad that fear has gone!
I keep memories of the couples I’ve known and treated very close always. You have been so many places with JD’s travels in the military. I think you have miles to go before you sleep, that is for sure. Your way of words is enlightening. All my best for the future.
Keep in touch.
Dr. Michael Heard
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You have an amazing gift of the pen. I feel like I am sitting right beside you in conversation as I read. I look forward to keeping up with you on your blog. What anguish you must have felt those two uncertain days. Thank God for all of our blessings.
Love,
Bonny -
Sara,
Thank you for sharing your experience–you were holding out on us! I thank God that you are ok and that you have the grace to be reflective on the incredible gift of life! Your first post is amazing! We miss you!
Love,
Dick -
After reading your first blog entry, I’m even more conviced that God lead me to you on that giant boat. You are an amazing writer and since I am not in your life on a day to day basis, this will be a great way for me to know how you are and to hear your inspirational stories! So glad your “scare” turned out to be nothing to worry about. Take care and I look forward to reading more!
Lots of love,
Paula -
Good grief, I’m so sorry you had to go through that scare….I’m glad you are okay and that life will go on as usual. You’re a beautiful writer – you need to write a book too!
Love ya!
Andrea
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I am thrilled that God is leading you to this blog. I will look forward to reading and growing through your words.
Love you sister!
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That was beautiful, you really are a wonderful writer.
Hope to see you soon. Did you know I love gospel music?
Tracy
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There is a time for everything (ecc 3)…I am so relieved that this situation calls for a time of gratitude. You have given me another reason to praise Him this morning.
Love to you,
Jill -
One of the most difficult things to remember, in the heat of the moment, is thinking about how the other person will take in, then, react to the way that a (potentially life changing) message is delivered.
It’s a learning experience to trade roles: your role of being the nurse to now you’re the patient. This is a powerful and moving moment from your life to share with others. I am thankful to hear that you are safe! Thank you for including me in this.
Blessings,
Charlotte
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