It feels like a million years ago, it REALLY does. Five weeks from tomorrow I finally went in for one of those dreaded yearly recommended mamograms. I suffered through the cluelessness that was I as I had never done THAT before, and moved on. Until I was standing on the playground at the twins' school a few days later when I noticed a voicemail on my phone. Uh oh. I called the breast center back as soon as I could wrangle the littles back to the car. I scribbled some notes as the nice lady spoke. Something about my left breast and another mamo and a set of double doors. Huh?!? WTF?!?
Fast forward to the second mamo and the dark room with the two giant computer screens of what I just could. not. believe. That was my breast. Some kind of atypical calcification. Something about a biopsy and me being fine. Huh?!? A hundred phone calls later, two appointments made and no referral, followed by an angel sent from God in a doctor's office in Suffolk, and I finally had an appointment. To see. a breast surgeon. Gulp. Huh?!?
Oh yea, did I mention Donk was gone for the first mamo and the second?!? I managed to see the breast surgeon while he was home for less than a week. And, the day before he left. I had a biopsy. Yep, me. The one with five kids. The one with the hubby who is never home. The one who is going to be gone for the better part of the next 2 years?!? Do you have ANY idea of the horrible things that filled my mind 7 hundred billion gazillion hours of each day? As I waited for the next step in this process. How could this happen to me?!? Who would take care of my kids?!? How ould I undergo treatment?!? How would they go on?!? How could I leave them?!? What would Patrick do with 5 kids all alone? How could my parents survive losing a child... AGAIN?!?
The day of my biopsy was here. It was excruciating. Not the procedure. The unknown. The waiting.
But I waited. I sent my husband off to the Ike. And I waited. Three to five days. I could start calling Friday.
And so I did. And another nice lady from my journey answered. Just like she said she would. Yes, my file was on her desk. She was going to call me.
And it was over. Just like that. Just like it had begun.
As I sat crouched behind a friend's garage (out of sight of the brood), the radiologist said the word we had all been praying for, the word I had been praying for, but never totally believing I would hear...
And now, with my new lease on life I enjoy days with Sullivan discovering a sport of his own...