Diagnosis #3

"Are You Kidding ME?"

My surgeon had not had a chance to review my pathology report before my post-op visit.  Surgery was about 10 days before Christmas, and with all of the holiday madness, my report hadn't come in until just prior to my appointment.  She knowingly scanned the pages of the report, reading the relevant information to my husband and me with a lilt of disappointment and surprise in her voice:

"There was a little something in the node."

"You had TWO tumors--1.5 centimeters and 2.5 centimeters."

"No hormone receptors...just like the others."

"Your HER2 is 2+...where is your FISH test...there should be a FISH test here..."

This was not the report anyone in the room was expecting.  The mastectomy was supposed to be mostly prophylactic--in response to a small lump that seemed to have some precancerous cells and a BRCA2 positive result a few weeks before.  So, "Are you kidding me?" were the only words I could find for several minutes.

THREE times.  I'm going to be a three time breast cancer survivor.

The first time, I was 25 years old.  I was young, scared, and had lousy insurance with a $25,000 lifetime cap.  My parents propped me up emotionally and financially throughout a frightening ordeal.

The second time, I was 33 years old.  I was a relative newlywed and had newborn twins.  My husband and I got through every day, a little too weary to process the situation, muddling through the mire of cancer treatments.

This time, I'm 42 years old.  My husband and I have been married for 10 years, have two smart and sweet third graders, and an amazingly supportive group of family, neighbors, and friends.  We are going to own cancer this time.  Family, friends, love, and laughter will outshine anger, fear, tears and frustration.

Christy 3, Cancer 0.