This Life I Did Not Choose

This is a time of year that passes by painfully slow – the days leading up to my Cancerversary. It marks a period of time when I can remember all the painful details of finding a lump in my right breast, through the series of diagnostic steps, to the actual date of diagnosis.

This is a photo from June 2019 at a wedding that my husband officiated. The reception was at Illinois State University and it was a fun evening. This is the last photo I have of me before the shadow of breast cancer appeared. I admit to studying it late at night, looking in the eyes and trying to remember what it felt like to be her. I remember that I accompanied a vocalist at a different wedding and then joined my husband at “his” wedding. I remember visiting with friends. I remember who sat at our table. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember how this version of me felt.

Fast forward to July 10, 2019. July was hectic since my company’s fiscal year-end was June 30 so I was working very long hours to prepare the financials for our audit. Beginning June 30 I pretty much worked straight through for several days to get on top of what needed to be completed. I felt strangely good about where things stood and left the office at a regular time and went for a 10K jog. I had completed my first 5K in April and had entered a 10K for the fall. I was in the best physical shape in 20 years. I felt so good about myself as I jogged up our lane. I took a shower and felt a lump in my right breast. I remember telling my husband about it that evening and decided I would make an appointment with my primary care doctor the next day. I was sure it was probably nothing since I had been so good about getting annual mammograms since my 40th birthday. Nine years of “all clear” mammograms gave me enough confidence to figure there could not possibly be cancer in my breast.

July 12, 2019 I saw my doctor who scheduled another mammogram. My previous mammogram was in the fall of 2018 and it was “all clear.” Surely a cancerous tumor would not grow so large in just a few months. The weekend after my doctor appointment was busy. 4-H House Cooperative Sorority celebrated its 85th Reunion at University of Illinois and my very best friend who I met at the house was coming from out of state to attend. We had a blast. We discussed the upcoming appointments and I told her that, at worst, it was breast cancer and I would beat it just like all the women we had read about. I would have surgery and lose my hair and then be just fine. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

July 17, 2019 It was audit week at the elevator – one of the busiest and most important weeks for me at work. I had to ask the GM to take a few hours off that day. I told him it was a medical test that was important and couldn’t wait. The results from that mammogram were just like the ones I had received for years. They did not see cancer. But since they knew the doctor confirmed the lump, they scheduled a biopsy for the following week. I had battled anxiety my entire life and all this happening during the audit period was difficult to endure.

July 24, 2019 The audit was over at work but now was the time period where I was responsible for producing financials for the board of directors and the shareholder as well as issuing patronage and dividend checks. My stomach was a mess and figured it was stress. My doctor scheduled an abdominal ultrasound after the biopsy to rule out gall bladder problems. I told the GM that I would be in later in the morning that day. I really believed that. My husband offered to come with me to the tests but I assured him I would be fine.

They used ultrasound to locate the lump for the biopsy. I remember when the jellyfish shaped object appeared on screen. I was still hoping for a cyst of some kind and I knew that was not likely a cyst. They completed the abdominal ultrasound immediately afterwards. I was having a good chat with the technician until she seemed to get very serious and very quiet. I was still focused on my gall bladder. My husband was waiting for me when I got out and we talked about how to fit gall bladder surgery into my work schedule and our kids’ schedules. We talked about it not being convenient but we would handle it.

Dave went with me to the doctor’s office to get results. My doctor was out so I was seeing a nurse practitioner I had never met. They called us back. The NP looked nervous. She held a folder in her hand and said, “This is no easy way to say this.” Yes, I had breast cancer. But my liver was also covered with innumerable masses, too. This meant the breast cancer had already spread to my liver. In addition there was a large mass on my right adrenal gland, so the cancer had spread there, too. They scheduled a CT scan for the next day that ultimately also saw that cancer was in my bones, too. (My gall bladder, though, was just fine!) I joined the world of Metastatic Breast Cancer that day.

July 27, 2019 – my 50th Birthday

I do not remember any details from this day. My family really wanted to take me out to celebrate my birthday so I agreed. You can see the change in me. This is the new me.

Life is only beautiful because it ends.

Consider plastic flowers. No one gushes over them. But fresh flowers create an entirely different emotion. And the difference is that we know fresh flowers die. We value the time we have with them because we know they will not last forever. My life was horribly disrupted by my diagnosis. All the plans and dreams I had prior to that day disappeared instantly. But my life became more precious and more beautiful because I was forced to acknowledge that it is finite. Making priorities became so much simpler. Saying no to things became a regular occurrence. I have met the most wonderful people in the MBC world who are my dear friends. I live in the valley of the shadow – but shadow is proof there is light. I am better off for having MBC. It transformed me. But this new wisdom wasn’t worth it. It certainly does not make cancer “a gift.”

If I have to go through hell, at least I’m going to try to bring something out with me. Fish do not know what water is until they are removed from it. A flower is only beautiful because it dies. I did not choose this life, but I will move forward with this life I did not choose.