The day was January 26th, 2005 - my 31st birthday, but there wasn't much to celebrate. 

For starters we had just moved to this little hole in the wall town in No. Nevada called Elko from fabulous Sin City Las Vegas.  There wasn't much of anything to do around there - our biggest shopping plaza was Wal-mart, and we had VERY FEW good places to go eat at though I still rank The Star as the best place I have EVER had a steak, hands down!  But that's not really why we didn't feel up to celebrating much.  Just a few weeks prior - the day after my daughter's birthday, and the day of a good friend's birthday, I miscarried our 4th child just after entering my 2nd trimester.  I had a D&C procedure scheduled shortly after I had been told the heart stopped, and my husband and I decided that after recovery from it, approximately 6 weeks, that I would undergo a complete hysterectomy - cause I knew as long as I had it in me I would continue to try and I couldn't handle another loss.   So as you can see there wasn't much to be excited about.

That night as I got ready to go to dinner, I made a comment to my husband as I ran my hands over my breasts that at least they were finally returning to normal (instead of being hard and painful like in pregnancy!)

It was then that I realized something was terribly wrong. 

Being in my 30's I never really worried much about doing self breast exams.  I may have somewhat checked them in the shower on a few occasions, but it was not a monthly thing for me.  I ignorantly thought that since I was in my 30's I had no cause for concern - mammograms don't start till you hit 40 and I still had many years ahead of me.  Boy was I wrong.  Finding that lump that night changed everything!

At first I hoped and prayed that it was just a clogged milk duct, a by-product of my pregnancy.  I was really sold on that as my "Vajayjay" (yes I am a HUGE Grey's fan!) doctor had just performed a breast exam on me after I had moved there and discovered I was pregnant.  The only problem was that I was approximately 10 weeks pregnant at the time, so the breast tissue was already starting to harden.  But upon examination my doctor agreed, she sent me out for a mammogram & ultrasound - the only problem was that the soonest I could get in would be 2 weeks - Valentine's Day to be exact!  Yeah, not really my idea of a nice, romantic day!

So I patiently awaited Valentine's Day.  It seems waiting was something I needed to get used to doing!  When I finally got in to see the tech, I was nervous not scared - because I knew I wouldn't die from this.  I felt a need to prove to my husband that cancer does not mean death, as he lost both his father and grandfather to cancer.  Without even knowing my diagnosis, I had already made up my mind that if I had breast cancer that I would just get a mastectomy because I felt as though I no longer needed breasts, not if it meant my health.  I figured breasts only really served 2 purposes.  One was to help attract the opposite sex, and the other was to nurture a child.  Since I was already married, had a child, and after repeated attempts unable to carry another child to term, I just felt like I didn't need them any longer.  Everyone around me was surprised at how well I was handling things - and my rationality of it all.  My hubby thought I was thinking that the worst was about to happen, but in reality I wasn't - I was just preparing for it!

So after my mammogram, I went ahead with the ultrasound.  Midway through the tech was interrupted.  She hurried and finished up her films, and I was told by the gentleman who interrupted us to get dressed and come with him.  It turns out that he was the radiologist on duty and he had just completed reading my mammogram films.  Now since this was a small town, things operated a little differently there.  I say that cause I ALWAYS hear about it from other radiologists that what he did was wrong, that my doctor should have been the one to discuss my films with me.  But like I said, small town.  He took me back into this area and showed me my films up on a light board.  Immediately one area stuck out to me.  As I listened to him talk I knew what he was about to say.  That area that so prominetly stuck out, looked exactly like the sample images that were in a brochure I looked over prior to my mammogram.  It was a rather large looking white circle that had many white lines coming all around it, almost like sun rays.  The radiologist pointed out the spot, then compared it to the other films.  He told me that he was concerned because the spot appeared to be cancerous, but that only a biopsy would show for sure.  He gave me a report and told me to go straight to my doctor's office so that we could arrange for a biopsy or lumpectomy.  I honestly can't say that I was surprised.  Deep down I knew this would be the outcome, but even still as I walked over to my doctor's office my heart sank and I felt as though I had been repeatedly punched in the gut.  The doctor and I agreed that since I had my hysterectomy surgery coming up in 10 days that it would be best to find a general surgeon who could perform the task at the same time.  Since I was on such a tight deadline, I went with the first surgeon who was able to do it on that date. 

I wish I had known then to be a bit more selective with the doctor's I chose to care for me.............

Those 10 days came and went rather fast.  Before I knew it I was in the hospital having a lumpectomy and complete hysterectomy.  When I woke up I was sore at first, but shortly after I felt great and was walking laps around the hospital.  The nurses said I was doing great for a patient who just had a hysterectomy.  After 2 days in the hospital the time came that I was sent home to complete my recovery.  The following week I had an appointment with the general surgeon who performed the lumpectomy.

I recall my husband dropping me off at the doctor's office, while he drove my mom to the airport.  She was flying back to Vegas as she had only come out for a few days as we needed a babysitter for the surgery.

Alone at the doctor's office I was escorted back into one of the exam rooms.  I will never forget what happened next.  The doctor walked in, told me I had cancer, that I had no choice but to get a mastectomy done - and he wanted to do it in 5 days.  He then proceeded to hand me a tissue and walk out.  Even though I was prepard for the worst, I was still in shock when it came.  I immediately called my husband and told him not to let my mom board that plane.  The airline was quite understanding when she explained the situation to them and asked them about extending her stay.  They told her she could extend her stay as long as she needed, and asked that she just call 2 days in advance of wanting to fly home.

Having her by my side was my saving grace, although she took the diagnosis worse than I did.  I stayed strong for my family in hopes of easing their fears, but my mom had become so distraught I told her to consider going to support groups once she returned home.  While she was worried about my health, I was concerned about her depression,  I honestly think that in her mind, she thought I wasn't going to live.