Detecting Breast Cancer

I was two years cancer free in September of this year. But, each time I go for my check-up, another mammogram, and bloodwork, I’m reminded how quickly things can change and how important it is to take care of myself.

If you are thinking about skipping your Mammogram, please don’t. Why? Because by the time you can feel a cancerous lump in your breast, cancer has been in your body for two to five years.

I didn’t have a mammogram last year and almost didn’t have one this year. I was tired of the yearly uncomfortable squeezing and mashing of my breasts.

However, when I told my doctor that I would skip the yearly procedure, she asked me about my sister. Unfortunately, my oldest sister died ten years ago, only days after she was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer on her seventieth birthday.

“Won’t you be turning seventy? she asked. It sounded odd to me because I don’t feel seventy. I had been working on a story for my seventieth birthday called “Age is Just a Number.”

The morning I was supposed to go in for the Mammogram, I received a call saying my brother died during the night in his sleep of COPD, a lung disease that blocks airflow and makes breathing difficult.

I was upset and decided to cancel the Mammogram, but my husband insisted I keep the appointment.

I was asked if I wanted the 3-D Mammogram instead of the usual 2-D Mammogram. The 3-D Mammogram creates a 3D image of the breast, improving breast cancer detection by 27-50%.

Not all insurance will pay for it, so the patient is informed that they will submit the claim, but the patient may have to pay for the additional cost, which is not much and is worth it.

I started to say no but changed my mind and said yes.

After the Mammogram, the technician said, “Hmmm, I think I see something new,” I brushed it off and said it was probably scar tissue. I had a previous biopsy for what turned out to be a benign tumor a few months after my sister died.

While we were out of town for my brother’s funeral, the doctor’s office called three times but didn’t leave a message. I subconsciously knew that wasn’t good, but I had much more on my mind. My brother was the last of my ten siblings. He was divorced and had not been close to his children, so I helped with the final arrangements.

When I got home, the doctor’s office called to set up an appointment.

There was a lump, and they wanted to biopsy it. I had done self-examinations but had not felt a lump in my breast.

And that’s the thing we don’t realize. It can seem like a lump appeared out of nowhere–especially if you or your doctor have recently examined your breasts and not felt anything suspicious–but in reality, cancer has doubled that one last time necessary to be noticeable.

Breast cancer, like most cancers, begins as one malignant cell. It then divides and becomes two bad cells, which divide again and become four bad cells, and so on. So it has to divide 30 times before you can feel it.

Up to the 28th cell division, neither you nor your doctor can detect it by hand. With most breast cancers, each division takes one to two months, so by the time you feel it has probably been in your breast for two to five years.

Regular mammograms are essential for all menopausal women. Unfortunately, not all breast cancers can be diagnosed through a mammogram. However,  it is our best defense against breast cancer because it can detect the disease in its early stages before it can be felt during a breast exam.

Ten days later, I had a breast biopsy procedure under local anesthesia to remove a small sample of my breast tissue for laboratory tests.

When my husband and I went in for the follow-up results, my doctor wanted to examine the incision where I had a breast biopsy.

She said the biopsy site looked promising. After she asked me how I was doing, she said, “Unfortunately, I have some bad news. The biopsy results are positive for a malignant tumor in your breast. ”

My thoughts went back ten years earlier when a doctor in Georgia said to my sister’s family and me, “Unfortunately, she has cancer that has metastasized from her breast to her lungs and liver.”

After a few moments, I realized that my doctor was still talking. Suddenly, I needed to take the mask I had worn into the office off to breathe.

My husband and I were stunned. “However, fortunately, it is a very small Ductal Carcinoma that does not appear invasive. I think we can remove all of the tumors in one surgery.”

I had to wait another ten days for a surgical lumpectomy to remove the malignant tumor. At first, I couldn’t say I had breast cancer. I just said I had a tumor in my breast, but there was a very still moment when I stopped and said, “I have breast cancer.”

I began to think about all the people I know who have cancer. I have stood beside them, prayed for them, comforted, and encouraged them as family, a friend, a nurse, and a pastor’s wife, but I never truly understood how they felt when their doctor said, “Unfortunately, you have cancer.”

Until that moment.