Cancer Invades More Than Just a Human Body

Yesterday I received some news from my doctor that is not good but it is not that bad, it just merely carries the potential for something that could be bad. They found some calcifications in my right breast that had not appeared on the mammograms before. In all likelihood, they are benign but, given our family's history with this type of disease, even the "maybe" can feel almost intolerable. I was going to "tough it out" and not mention it to anyone because of all the grief and anxiety we have all been experiencing with Patty's leukemia battles, but the thought occurred to me that, on the off chance it is not benign, it would be a devastating bombshell instead of a potential problem when I did tell people, so I opted instead to tell my Dad and step-mom about it. We agreed to wait and tell my sisters after the biopsy, which takes place within the next two weeks. I will know for certain before the end of the month and, if the doctor's predictions and the statistics hold true, we will all be able to heave a well deserved, collective sigh of relief.

It was rough telling Dad, although not as horrid as the news of Patty's illness was when we all first learned about it. I did not cry except when we talked about the seriousness of Patty's illness relative to my own troubles, which pale by comparison, but it was still difficult for him to hear. My Dad has a schizophrenic son, one daughter with leukemia who has just been through her third round of chemo, another daughter ("She Who Declines to be Named") who is about to have a nervous breakdown at the thought of possibly losing Patty, and now me facing this potential diagnosis with an already diagnosed genetic predisposition for breast and ovarian cancers with an additional diagnosis of ovarian cysts, which get checked on again in a couple of days. All of this is the only reason I hesitated at all to tell him, but it seemed like not telling him could cause too much of a shock should the news be bad. In this situation it is difficult to know exactly what is best, but keeping communications open and up to date seems to be about the best way to handle things all around, even though it can be very painful to do so sometimes.

At the moment, though up at an odd hour typing my blog, I feel fairly calm and like things will work out with this potentially very bad situation. We have had so much to contend with that it seems doubly unfair for there to be any more stresses in any of our lives, but things keep piling on, travail upon travail, until the fan the "you-know-what" is supposed to be hitting has been long buried and we hardly know what to think or feel. I guess there is something to be said about feeling numb after all.

I tried very hard to remain upbeat and positive while talking to Dad and, in truth, I do not feel that "doomed" by the present difficulty because I know the most likely diagnosis will be that it is benign and there is little to worry about, at least for awhile yet, although I do feel nervous about the test and the possible bad tidings. I told Dad that it wasn't fair for Patty to be the one having all of the fun and that, until the end of the month, following the biopsy, I would not know anything except fear - which did get a weak chuckle from him. You really learn to find humor in the strangest situations, grim and difficult though they are, and it seems vitally important to be able to do just that - grim or not.

So, anyway, to anyone who may find their way to my blog, that is what this little family is going through at the moment. May your troubles be far fewer and of lesser import than ours and may you find love and laughter in the oddest places. It is training that will hold you in good stead for the future.

Izzlebug