A couple of years ago I wrote about my gratitude after a mammogram and a visit to the breast clinic. I finished that post by saying:
“I am one of the lucky ones. I left with a sore breast, a big smile and a light heart. The shading of concern in my scan was just a cyst. […] But the chances are that at least one of the women who smiled at me in that waiting room won’t be so lucky. So, while I feel great relief and gratitude for myself, I am sending my thoughts to those other women. Mothers, grandmothers, lovers, colleagues, friends, I hope that if your news was bad today, that it was caught early. I hope that you’ll be treated and will regain your strength and spirit and that you’ll laugh and love for many years more.”
Two years later, I have become the other woman – the unlucky one in the statistic of one in eight women developing breast cancer. And yet I am dancing (figuratively – it’s still much too sore to literally dance) because it was caught early, because I am going to be okay, because I feel like the luckiest woman alive.
Today’s post is a celebration of good news after bad, and an urgent call to all women to have regular mammograms.
I had no lump that could be felt or seen, I was strong and healthy and I was madly busy, busy enough to ignore the first reminder about my mammogram being due. The second reminder prompted action and I booked an appointment. The resulting scan highlighted microcalcification “most probably benign” according to the pathology report but worth investigating further. The subsequent biopsy revealed high grade, aggressive cancer inside one of my ducts, cancer that appeared to be invasive.
All of this has happened in the last three weeks. I have been diagnosed, hospitalised, had a lumpectomy and sentinel nodes removed, and now have the wonderful news that they got it all out. I won’t need chemo but will still need a course of radiation (probably six weeks). I am cancer free.
The alternate scenario (and the one that I would have fallen into if I was one of the staggeringly huge 55% of women who don’t have regular mammograms) is that I wouldn’t have found the cancer until it became a lump that could be felt. Given how deep inside my breast it was, that would have taken a long time. Given how aggressive it was, by the time it could be felt in my breast, it would almost certainly have invaded my lymph nodes and, via them, whichever other parts of my body it fancied.
Ironically, on the same day that I found out that I had early stage breast cancer, I read an article suggesting that mammograms weren’t useful and didn’t prevent death from breast cancer.
I am so disgusted by this reporting. Apparently the machinery they used in the Canadian experiment is outdated compared to what we use here, the technicians weren’t trained in reading the scans properly – or in placing the breast to get the most effective scans – and yet, for many women reading the headline, it will give them a reason not to bother going for their regular check up.
That’s part of why I’m writing this post. I want to celebrate my newly regained health and praise the doctors, nurses, radiologists, pathologists and myriad others who found and removed the cancer. And I want to raise my voice and call out to other women to go for their mammograms.
As far as breast cancer goes, I’m young (45). I have no family history of breast cancer. I’ve never smoked. I’ve eaten well and lived a pretty healthy (albeit sedentary) life.
If it happened to me, it could happen to anyone. Please, please, go and get yourself checked regularly. The minor inconvenience and discomfort of having your breasts compressed is nothing compared to the utter joy of being alive.
* The photos are of my breakfast before heading into hospital. As I sliced the grapefruit in half I became uncomfortably aware of how like a breast it was sitting on my plate. Didn’t stop me from eating it though!
Oh, Katherine – I am SO relieved for you. As much as a lumpectomy is invasive and traumatic, you’ve beaten the beast before it really got you in its teeth. Be kind and gentle on yourself when you’re having radiation – it’s not a fun ride either. I’ll be sending up my highest good for your recovery xoxo
Thank you, C-J. Hope you’re doing well. x
Beautiful piece of writing darling. You could submit it to a womans magazine because it’s a message worth getting out.
Glad you’re okay, Katherine. After a (benign) scare 8 years ago, I have a mammogram & ultrasound every year. It’s peace of mind.
Thank you for the reminder, Katherine!! And I’m so glad you’re doing well. xx
I am in tears, Katherine. I am equally relieved and horrified for you. All my love to you and your family x
PS I will be booking a mammogram for my 45 year old self as soon as I can x
I am so happy for your outcome, Katherine. A tumor was discovered by mammogram, 2 months after a manual check by a nurse’s aide, that turned out to be invasive, dumb-bell shaped and caught just in time. This was 2004, but I had to undergo chemo and radiation, they threw the book at it, for which I was very grateful. A mastectomy, but so what!
And the funny thing is, it is still hard for me to believe that the tumor was real, as I had never felt better. Curiously, that down time gave me the leisure to trawl the internet, where I reconnected with Lyall, and had a lovely 2 year correspondence with him.
I hope you are feeling well and totally recovered.
Katherine, I echo the comment that you could submit this to a magazine for women, and urge you to do so. It is an important message and a gorgeous piece of writing. I’m relieved that you are cancer free, and send you a hearty (though virtual) hug from NYC.
I am so relieved to hear your positive results Katherine! Your writing brings back memories of my lumpectomy back in 1999 and the emotions unleashed when it was not cancer after all. And yes I do have a regular mammogram. All best wishes for your recuperation.
Wonderful piece of writing… healing thoughts winging your way
Hi, Katherine–
So glad to hear that your recent mammogram appears to have caught the malignancy in time and that you can side-step the chemo treatments and receive instead the six-week radiation therapy. How wonderful, too, that your play made it to the stage. Thrilling, isn’t it, to hear the words one labored over spring to life on an actor’s lips?
Several months ago, I expressed an interest in writing a screenplay based on Gifts of Unknown Things. Since that time, I’ve written a 19-page treatment, or synopsis, and passed it along to my agent. She called me this morning, expressed enthusiasm for the project, and urged me to contact you about optioning the screen rights to the book.
In response to my inquiry regarding the rights, you mentioned that another of your uncle’s owned the rights to the book. Before launching into generating a full-length screenplay, I feel it’s crucial to contact whoever owns the rights and determine if there’s any inclination to sell the rights and, if so, what preconditions would need to be met.
I’ve loved Gifts ever since I first encountered it in the late 70s, have wanted to adapt it for the big screen ever since, but lacked the firsthand familiarity with the setting to feel confident about portraying it in a convincing manner. A seven-week trip to Bali and neighboring Lombok last spring allayed that worry and sparked my readiness to tackle the project–at long last!
Needless to say, I look forward to hearing from you. Please let me know if you’d like me to send you a copy of the synopsis.
Best,
Bill