Waiting and Red Flags

I know it doesn't sound like a long time to wait from an MRI on October 25 to a surgeon's appointment on November 4, but believe you me, it was an ETERNITY.  I still had not said anything to my teaching colleagues about any of the numerous medical appointments I had been absent for.  No one knew that I was on pins and needles waiting to hear if I had breast cancer.  I was still arriving at school each day with a smile on my face, and thankful for the distraction of teaching 24 precious 12 and 13-year olds.  Of course, cell phones were not allowed in the classroom, but I left mine on the corner of the desk (on vibrate!) and found every excuse to wander by and push the power button to see if there was a text awaiting me with the happy news that the surgeon's office had called.  I continue to learn, as I travel along this long and winding road, that so much of the journey is in the waiting.

LESSON: 

Learn to be patient very early on.  It will save you wasted energy and much anxiety.  Let go of what you can't control.

I couldn't control when the phone would ring.  PS:  I'm a wee bit of a control freak, so this was extra hard for me!

On Friday, November 2, the anticipated, dreaded call finally came.  Would David and I please meet with the surgeon in her office on Sunday,November 4 at 1 p.m.

RED FLAG #1:

If a surgeon is taking time out of their Sunday afternoon to consult with you, there's a very good reason.  (It means she needs 2 hours to examine you, and explain what is going to happen to you over the next months.)

RED FLAG #2:

If that same surgeon asks your husband to wait in the waiting room while she examines you, there's a very good reason.  (Why would a surgeon want to examine me unless they plan on performing surgery on me??)

RED FLAG #3:

After the examination, if the surgeon comes back into the room to see your husband and yourself and there's a large package under her arm, there's a very good reason. (It's volumes and volumes of valuable reading material, the most important one being an excellent book published by the B.C. Cancer Agency jam-packed full of information which I nicknamed, "My Cancer Book".)

DIAGNOSIS:  

The day, the hour, the minute that would change probably the rest of my life, but undoubtedly, the next year of my life, came at 2 p.m. on Sunday, November 4, 2012.

There is nothing in life that prepares you to hear the words:  "You have four cancerous tumours in your right breast, and you will need a radical mastectomy as soon as possible."