The Beginning

2011 was a great year.  I took advantage of a year's maternity leave, and spent my time playing with my two boys, now ages 1 and almost 4.  As the year came closer to an end, I scheduled all my medical appointments and planned my errands so as to not have to take any time off when I started back to work.  I went to the dentist, eye doctor, got my hair cut, bought non-maternity work clothes, and booked a physical.

On December 8th, at my annual check-up, my doctor found a lump in my right breast.  She didn't think it was a cyst, but she wanted to send me for a mammogram just in case.  Having only finished breast feeding a couple months earlier, I wasn't that concerned.  I was too busy.  We celebrated G's first birthday.  Christmas was around the corner.  I had presents to buy, decorations to put up, cookies to make, and plenty of other holiday chores and parties to keep me distracted. 

I went in for the mammogram on December 20th.  (I'd had a baseline one done in November of 2009 and all was clear).  They saw the lump the doctor had discovered, plus one more.  A biopsy would be required to assess further.  I pushed it to the back of my mind, and let the kids' Christmas excitement wash over me.  Besides, who gets cancer in their thirties?

On December 30th, I went back to the radiologist for an ultrasound guided breast core biopsy.  Basically, they numb the breast with local anesthesia, insert a needle, and take out samples of tissue to be sent away for analysis.  During the biopsies of the two sites, the radiologist found a third area of concern, so I ended up having a triple biopsy.  After the procedure, the nurse/breast care navigator talked to me as she dressed the incision site.  It seems that most people vividly remember where they were and what they were doing when they first receive "the call", but I have to say it was this conversation with Mary that remains etched in my memory as the start of it all:

"I don't know if anyone has told you yet, but this looks worrisome."
"Really?!"
"Yes. I'd love to be wrong, but we see so much of this.  I just think you should be prepared."

And with that one word - worrisome - my period of denial quickly faded and the story began.