Lucky One

I've stumbled and fallen many times in my life. Some times those falls have been due to my own making, others due to shoves from others. Rarely have I been knocked off course by something that was beyond my control. But it happens. The last three weeks have been out of my control. And to a type A person, that is not a good time. But finally, I feel like I can finally see the path in front of me. Its a little rocky, has a few bends, but promises a beautiful view at the end.

Today I met with my breast surgeon. She reviewed the results of the pathology report on my cancer. I think everyone who chooses a treatment path wonders if they made the right choice at some point. Even if they are prayerfully done. Should I have done a lumpectomy? Should I have taken both breasts? Did I make the right decision with the information I was given? Thankfully, my results found a third tumor forming and that my breast tissue contained lobular tissue that could or could not have formed other tumors. I don't understand the mechanics of it, I won't pretend to. I'm a psychologist, not a pathologist! But the bottom line was, my surgeon told me I made the right decision to remove the entire breast. It was a good move. Now there is no looking back. If I did or didn't make the right decision doesn't matter. That door is shut.

Removal of the first tube was traumatic in that I had just gotten the news that my lymph nodes were not compromised. I sat with tears flowing down my checks while the nurses cheered at my good fortune. As one nurse snipped the stitches and got ready to pull the drain, the other nurse held my hand and praised our Father in heaven for good news! The drain was out in a second and I didn't feel a thing! That was good. I regrouped, and moved on.

Removal of the second tube was not so good. Yes, I got full disclosure about my cancer. Lobular cancer, ER and PR positive, HER-, genetic negative, stage 1A........I'm in remission. They can't say cured because they never know if they get every microscopic piece. There are no promises that it won't come back. I will leave that up to God. I will pray he spares me from this road ever again. I wish I could wipe cancer out of vocabulary. I've heard of too many new cases just in the last few days. My heart is heavy for others. I'm a lucky one.

I jump on the table (ok, I didn't really jump with a drain coming out of my side and the grenade part in my hand...I gingerly sat there...) and look at my mom. The nurse asks if it is "their" drain or "Plastics" drain. Um, I don't know..I was kinda knocked out when they were inserted. So she checks. And unenthusiastically replies that it is plastic's drain. Which is different than their drain. Their drain looks like a straw. Plastics, yeah, not so much. She begins to remove it and I break out in a sweat. Holy Cow! What IS that?? What is she pulling out of my body?? Or is she trying to insert her fist into that tiny hole?? Finally, after I felt like screaming, she removes this huge 6 inch flat piece of plastic that looks like an irrigation system. It is wider than the hole in my body. Nasty. That is just gross. And it was in me. SHUDDER! But now, it's out. Thank you, Jesus! Whew!

I am still shocked that it has been three weeks and two days since I got the news I have cancer. And now I sit here, altered, but in remission. I am a SURVIVOR of cancer, a little over three weeks after I found out I was a Victim. I am one of the lucky ones. I know! Early detection saved my life. A diligent Radiologist, a feisty Family Practice Doctor, both whom are also friends, and my husband fought for me. They pushed for tests that needed done and examined things as quickly as possible. I was guided by people we know in the medical field every step of the way. I know the benefits of that. I do not take the privilege lightly. Ever.

I sometimes wonder if that is why God put Dave in my life. He was there when I had my first asthma attack climbing the Tybee Island Lighthouse steps. He was there when I had a partial abruption that could have killed me and our premature son. He was there during the birth of that premature baby. And there through the second son that was stuck in the birth canal and wouldn't come out. And there again for a little baby who's heart beat kept disappearing during labor. He read through medical records on a stranger to see if he felt comfortable enough to adopt her child. He found out his wife had cancer before she did. He explained all the medical mumbo jumbo every step of the way. I am lucky to have him in my life. He is my rock.

As I continue onward through my journey, I am thankful this part is over. I'm thankful that although I am still in the middle ground. It doesn't feel like I am floundering there any more. I no longer feel like I am walking through muck to get to an unknown destination. I have a path to follow. I will walk it. God will pick up my feet and I will put them down. I will work with my oncologist. I will follow his direction. I will keep up my healthy life style and exercising. I will return to work. I will pick up where I left off, kinda. I am definitely not the same person as before. I will no longer fear having a mammogram thinking it will hurt, I will fear it, dreading the results. I will have an MRI every other year and anxiously await the results. I will be closely watched by a slew of people. Cancer may no longer be in my body at this moment, but it will always be hanging over my head.

But I will think of that later. For tonight, I was able to hold my little girl close. I got to play with her, get her kisses, watch her play, and reach for her. Tonight I was able to eat dinner with my family. Tonight I was able to have my third son snuggle up to me without fear of hurting me. My life is back on track. I am eternally grateful.

I had breast cancer. I am healing from a mastectomy. I am thankful. I follow an amazing God.

I am lucky.