Dec 4th: I call imaging scheduling to get an MRI date. A woman answers and asks the typical name/birthdate etc. When I tell her I need a breast MRI, she says "Oh, is today the first day of your period? You'll need to call back on the first day of your period." My stomach hits the floor, that was definitely at least 3 weeks away. I respond, "I need this back by Dec. 11th for a visit with the surgeon." She responds, "Ms. we can only do the imaging on days 10 to 12 after the first day of your period or the results aren't accurate." She pauses. "Do you know for sure the first day of your last period?" Me, "YES! I track it on my iPhone! It was Dec. 1st." She sighed. "Okay, I can get you in on Dec.10th at 2pm- that's the absolute earliest we can do it." I ask, "Will the surgeon have results by noon on the 11th?" She responds "It's like a digital photo, we'll have it immediately" I sigh, and thank her. My emotions are somewhere in numb disbelief that worked out so well. (Total side note- yes, I am that crazy data person that tracks my period on my health app even though I have no fertility issues nor do we want more children, what can I say. I love data.)
Dec 7th: The radiologist calls, we're in the car. "Ms., we got the biopsy results back. As expected it is positive. But, there's a lot of good here. We don't like that you have cancer. But, we really like the cancer you have." I'm prepared for this, her face had already told me everything during the biopsy procedure. I tell her, "I did my research, I know the stats. I can handle stage 1, 2, or 3. I don't think I can handle stage 4." She says, "The biology is very good. You have invasive lobular carcinoma. It's 100% estrogen positive, 100% progesterone positive and 0% HER-U2. Even if it is stage 4, there's a lot we can do. This is very treatable." We get off the phone - I can do this. We get home around 5pm, I text my boss "Do you have 5 minutes?" That's modern office lingo for I have something bad to tell you. He instantly texts back, "I'm free now." I video conference him and open with "I...I...I've been diagnosed with cancer." Him, "Oh God, I'm so sorry. My wife had cancer 5 years ago. Put an out of office message up. Work comes second, take as much time as you need. I don't care if we don't hear from you until January." I start with, "We have to tell the team, they'll all know when I do chemo anyway." Him "Whoa, chemo. Slow down. You don't know what the doctors will say yet. Put the out of office up, forward anything on your plate to me and I'll take care of it. And, I know you. As your friend, I'm telling you to STAY OFF GOOGLE! It is not your friend when it comes to cancer, trust me."
Dec 8th: I tell one of my direct reports. He's also 37, is married and has two sons each exactly 1 year younger than each of my two girls. We're on video conference and he starts tearing up as soon as I tell him. I suspect he's thinking "What is this were my wife!?!" He shakes his head. "Your going to live. I've worked for you for 3 years. You'll approach this like you do everything. If there is anyone in the world who is going to survive cancer, it's you." Me, "Thank you". I call another direct report who lives in India. She's the modern Indian version of Margaret Thatcher - rules with an iron fist in a lace glove. We get along so well. I tell her. "You're going to live. My grandmother lives in rural India and she had chemo 20 years ago, she's still alive. You're going to live." conversation done.
Dec 10th: I sign in with the imaging services room. It's in the basement of the hospital, not a very friendly place. My husband later explains the super sensitive imaging machine can be invalidated by upper floors swaying in the wind, plus they're really heavy. The technician with pink hair and glossy lips on her face shield greets me. She says she likes it down here- it's quiet. I change and the radiologist comes out to put an IV in my arm- the first of many. He asks me if I know why I'm there, I say "Yes, I have breast cancer, they're trying to figure out how big it is." He responds. "You already know you have breast cancer?" Me, "Yes." Him, "You're handling this very well." I've never had an MRI- I don't like them instantly. They try to coach me through it and tell me I'll be in the machine for 20 to 30 minutes, they may or may not need extra images. I ended up needing extra images. I'm starting to not like needing extra images. I go home with no additional information.
Just keep swimming.