Friday, July 8, 2016

Et tu, Lefty?

It's probably nothing. I'm trying not to panic. But...Tuesday I had my annual mammogram, and I got my results electronically last night. They said, "Questionable increase in left breast calcifications
for which further evaluation with magnification views is again recommended. Left breast asymmetry for which further evaluation to include spot CC, spot MLO, and full lateral view with possible
ultrasound is also recommended." They're going to call me for a follow up. Those calcifications were there last year, but they couldn't get to them to biopsy them and they were not concerned at the time because they were tiny. It was not fun trying to get it done last time, and I don't suspect it will be much fun this time.

Thank you to all of you who told me stories of your loved ones who beat this, never to have it come back. I need that like crazy right now. I try so  hard to just live my life and keep out the "what if?" thoughts, but then this happens. Statistically speaking, it would be very unusual to have a recurrence so quickly--but it was statistically unlikely for a 42-year-old non-jewish white girl to have triple negative breast cancer. What if I'm one of the "lucky" few? On the other hand, I just had a bucket load of chemo a few months ago, and it is systemic and should have killed everything. But what if it didn't? I had a couple friends who had something like this come up within a few months or a couple years after they were declared NED, and it was nothing. But what if I'm not like them, and it's something?

This is my life now. Worrying about every test, every lump, every pain. What if I am one of those people who spends the rest of their life fighting cancer? I know it's better than being dead, but it's a far cry from living a reasonably normal life. What if I never get me back?

On the bright side, I had my third personal training session today and it was great. Loving my trainer. Tomorrow I have my 5K at the Davis Moo-nlight, so wish me luck. According to the weather forecast, this should be the coolest it's ever been for this race--thank goodness. I know I made the right decision downgrading from the 10K, and I know I'm supposed to be grateful that I'm able to run at all, but I hate, hate, hate admitting I can't do something.

I'll keep y'all updated about when I go in for this biopsy, results, etc. Please pray for me and continue with those success stories. Thank you for your continued support!


  1. Breathe. I think you just outlined all the reasonable arguments for this to not be awful. And all the emotional arguments for flipping out. If you flip, if you don't flip, i'm rooting for you and thinking of you. YOU. ARE. STRONG.

  2. Praying for you my friend. I do know people who had breast cancer who have not had any re-occurrence.

  3. Hope the race was amazing! And keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. I think we both know the reality that from this point forward, every test, every abnormality will bring a certain amount of anxiety. But we can't let it control us, ok? I'll try if you try! ;-) (I say this as I prep to go for two ultrasounds this week. And a colonoscopy soon after. Do we know how to have fun or what?)