Someone asked me today how long ago it was that I came down with a case of breast cancer. (It was 1998.) I couldn't help thinking back to the day I heard the dreaded diagnosis.
Six years before, something "suspicious" showed up on a mammogram and I underwent a lumpectomy, performed by a local surgeon, Carol Slomski, M.D. A few days afterward at her office, I sat in an examining room waiting nervously to learn if the pathology results showed the tumor was malignant or not. Finally the door opened, but even before she came fully into the room, the doctor was saying cheerfully, "I've got good news!"
Not cancer, all gone, no further action required.
The next time something "suspicious" showed up (1998), Dr. Slomski performed a lumpectomy once again. The next day I was at her office waiting nervously once again for the verdict. This time the doctor came into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. "Hi," she said, as she walked over to me, "how are you doing this morning?"
Bless her heart, trying to break it to me gently, but the contrast in her manner with the 1992 event told me immediately that this one wasn't benign.
Further action required that time -- chemotherapy, radiation therapy, and five years of Tamoxifen, as a matter of fact, but that seems to have taken care of the problem. Knock on wood.
No comments:
Post a Comment