Diane Oser’s Sound Visions

Routine [tag]mammograms[/tag], we dread them, make jokes about them and most of us don’t worry about them, especially if there isn’t a strong familial history of breast cancer. That is about where I was about a year and a half ago. I have been routinely screened for many years, starting in my early forties, and was never worried about the results as the only family members that were hit by breast cancer are my cousin, once removed and her mother.

Even when I was called back a few weeks after that screening for another screening, I wasn’t worried. I was told that there were signs of calcification, and to return in six months. I went for the requisite six month follow-up, and then I started to worry.

The screening showed calcifications in my left breast, that had increased during the six months since the previous mammography. A fine wire localization biopsy was recommended and performed. It was terrifying, as the procedure involves two wires inserted into the breast by a radiologist while the patient is awake. I then waited for several hours, with these wires sticking out of me, until surgery. A [tag]lumpectomy [/tag] was performed.

Waiting for results is the hardest part, as anyone knows who has gone through similar experiences. The results could have been worse, but they weren’t good. I had extensive mid grade [tag]ductal carcinoma in situ[/tag]. I had to have my entire breast removed. I cried, fought, pleaded and denied. I read everything I could, to look for a safe alternative. The bottom line was that there wasn’t any. Again, the wait was torture. I got to a point of numbness, emotionally, and just wanted to get it over with.

The hospital admitted me the morning of surgery, and I was discharged 24 hours later, still half anesthesized. I have very little recollection of the next two days. This occurred January 31st of this year. What followed was a nightmare of depression, physical pain but most pronounced, emotional pain. I began to drink heavily to blot it all out. I’d wake up during the night terrified and feeling very alone. My poor husband Doug deserves a badge for sticking with me through all this. It wasn’t pleasant. The one positive thing was that I didn’t need chemo or radiation treatments. They successfully removed all the cancer cells. I was put on the hormone [tag]tamoxifen[/tag], but after a short trial I went off it as the side effects were too unpleasant, and the benefits for the future weren’t alluring enough to continue with it.

Funny, time does have a way of healing all wounds. Physically, I healed well and rapidly. As soon as I could, I went back to teaching and my Art Gallery administration position. I had already found a mental health worker who I really liked, and who is also a breast cancer survivor. Through her, I joined a group to help me with my depression and drinking, which, I am glad to say, I no longer have problems with.

I’m gratefully back in the land of the living, and looking forward to participating in our local chapter of the [tag]Dragon Boat[/tag] rowers, all breast cancer survivors.

If anything, I now am more positive and active than I was before this happened. Although I don’t wish this to happen to anyone, I learned a great deal about myself and life through it. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that what truly counts is the spirit within. Never let it die.