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Eight years and counting

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Contributed by: Marge Schrader on 9/21/2007

I've been asked if I have ever had any real challenges in my life. While I have had a reasonably good life, there have been a number of challenges over the years. Having been married fifty-six years and raising three children, it goes withouth saying that "challenge" tended to be a constant companion. But the one that remains uppermost in my mind happened eight years ago.

"Hello, Margaret. This is Dr. Bourne. I told you I would call you as soon as I got the results of your biopsy. I'm afraid I didn't get the answer I had hoped for. It's malignant."

With those words, my stomach plummeted. When I found the lump a couple of weeks previous to that call, I wasn't too concerned. I'd had my yearly mammogram just two months before and the results had come back negative. After all, I had the form letter from the lab that said so, didn't I? So when I found the lump during my usual self-examination that morning in the shower, I assumed it was a cyst since I'd been diagnosed with cystitis several years ago. But just to be on the safe side, I made an appointment with my gynecologist to have it checked. She promptly ordered another mammogram and a subsequent biopsy. So even though those words were softly spoken by Dr. Bourne that fateful afternoon, in my mind they actually shouted "BREAST CANCER!"

A million thoughts started going through my mind. My husband was in the next room reading and I had to tell him right away. I don't know how I managed to do that without losing it completely. He'd had his own brush with cancer twenty or so years ago with a malignant tumor on his vocal chords. With six weeks of radium treatments after surgery, he was pronounced cancer free and has been so ever since. Would I be that lucky?

Our three children and close relatives all lived in other states and we set about breaking the news. We had plans and reservatins to go on a cruise with four other people in three weeks so we had to scrap that idea. A few other tests were done and a date for the actual surgery was set. I had asked Dr. Bourne if she couldn't just do a lumpectomy and not remove the entire breast, but it seemed the location and size of the tumor warranted a mastectomy. I was so concerned about getting everything in order that I didn't have time to be nerevous or frightened. But wait ~ that's not entirely true. I was nervous and frightened 24/7. But I kept telling myself that women went through this all the time and survived just fine ~ maybe a bit lopsided, but otherwise okay. At the time, my next door neighbor was fighting her own battle with cancer. She was going through chemotherapy and was so sick she could barely get up in the morning. She couldn't eat and lost all her hair. As the day of my surgery approached, she told me I would be in her thoughts and prayers.

My daughter flew in to be with me and help any way she could. When I came out of the surgery and was wheeled into my room at the hospital, my beautiful daughter and my husband were walking right along with me carrying a lovely bunch of flowers. I was wide awake and full of questions about the procedure and wanted to talk to the doctdor. She came into my room all smiles and good cheer. She assured me that everything went well and felt that they got all the cancer, but they had to remove a number of lymph nodes along with the tumor. A day later she pronounced me well enough to go home, and I couldn't wait to get back to my life.

I was released with a prescription for pain along with orders to set up an appointment for follow-up checkups. I had drains in place and they tended to be a bit of a hassle, so I devised a way to tuck them into the waistband of my jeans so they wouldn't show. Don't they say that necessity is the mother of invention? When we pulled into my driveway, my neighbor's daughter was on her front porch. I called over to her and asked how her mother was doing, and she dropped what she was doing and putting her arms around me, said "Mom died last night". The chemo treatments proved to be too much for her body to handle and she just gave up. We just stood in the driveway sobbing into each other's arms. I swore to myself then and there that when I went to the oncologist I was going to refuse chemotherapy.

The appointment was made to see him and I approached his office ready to stand my ground and say "No" if and when he uttered the word "chemotherapy". He checked my records, the results of the surgery, my surgeon's recommendations, and the whole nine yards. much to my relief, he felt chemo was not called for in my case, and along with quarterly visits for blood tests, occasional x-rays, etc. and a daily dose of Tamoxifen for the next five years, that was all that was required of me.

Except for a bout with a tumor on my left kidney (I subsequently had a nephrectomy) I've been cancer free for eight years now. I developed lymphodema in my arm because of the removal of lymph nodes, but I've learned to live with it. I was fortunate to have a great support system. Beside my family and friends, I had the support of my granddaughter's junior high school. She was the captain of their dance team and performed at basketball games. My husband and I went to one of their games when the girls were going to perform at half time. When we arrived at the gym, I noticed several teachers wearing little pink ribbons and even the players had them woven through their shoe laces. My granddaughter had made hundreds of these little pink ribbons and gave them to everyone she could. Before the game an announcement was made that they knew of a lady who was presently fighting breast cancer and they were wearing their little pink ribbons in support. I soon realized they were talking about me! The girls dedicated their dance routine to me and I'm sure it was wonderful, but I could barely see it through the tears.

I've since made it a point to remind every female friend and relative to get that yearly mammo. It doesn't matter if a woman is not at great risk, such as having a close relative who has had cancer. This terrible disease doesn't play favorites.

People as a whole have many occasions to celebrate ~ birthdays, wedding anniversaries, graduations and the biggies like New Year's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving Day and of course there's Christmas Day. But for me my very personal big day is April 13th, the anniversary of my surgery. Every year when that day rolls around I know that I have placed another well aimed kick to the behind of my nemesis. I pump my fist in the air and shout "YES!!".

We did manage to go on that cruise we had put off as well as a couple of others. Those little pink ribbons are constant reminders of how precious life is and that each and every day is to be treasured. So far, it's been eight years and counting.

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Editor's note: YourHub.com would like to help share your stories of survival. Whether you beat breast cancer 30 years ago, you're in the fight right now, you're a friend, loved one or co-worker of someone who was diagnosed with the disease, your story is important. Click here to share your story.

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Submitted By: Mary Carwile

posted on 9/26/2007 @ 6:56:41 PM

(Not Rated)

Your story sounds very similiar to mine...and I will celebrate 8 years in October. Wondering if you saw my story and the book I just wrote (my 2nd book) all about breast cancer, "Heartstrings and Pink Ribbons." I think you'd really love it! Check out my web site at www.MaryCarwile.com and see both books. Congrat's on 8 years! Yea!!!

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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Marge Schrader

Westminster , CO

Marge Schrader has posted 2 stories and 0 comments since joining on 6/29/2007. Marge Schrader 's average story rating is 5.

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