MAKING NO SENSE AT ALL

In hindsight, I wonder if my experience was just a normal almost-every-women-goes-through-this kind-of-thing or perhaps I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it. It just doesn't make any sense to still be so emotional......but I am - and it was a big deal to me!

In the past, I had experienced a call from the doctor to go back in for a 2nd mammogram. I obediently made another appointment knowing that my chart would show that all that fibrous tissue is normal for me. Only this time, I had two technicians who I had not seen before.  They treated me with a gentleness and kindness that took me by surprise. These nurse technicians were very caring and understanding as they explained the mass of abnormal tissue on the ex ray showing it deep inside and close to the rib cage.

After many more attempts to get a better image I was sent back to the ultra-sound room. But alas, it wasn't a lump to find. The radiologist looked at my ex rays, looked at me, looked at my ex rays and finally called it a breast lesion! A growth! eeww! He recommended a biopsy! Now this experience was taken to a new level for me.

The procedure "Stereotactic Breast Biopsy" now gives me the shudders, because I have experienced one. It was not pleasant. I didn't handle it very well. The tears came, I trembled, I tried not to lose control. After it was over I had another series of mammograms - I will just say that I kind of paid them back for hurting me......They had to bring in a clean-up crew!

I have been through the waiting before, years ago. Pre-cancerous cells were found and just kept multiplying. I know what it means to wonder if you have cancer. To not sleep well, to have it on your mind day and night waiting for the results to come back. It is excruciatingly long. This time I waited a week before the surgeon called me. The pathologist recommended total breast removal. Seriously? No pre-cancerous cells found - but the potential was there. My doctor and my surgeon both recommended I have the lesion removed. A lumpectomy was scheduled.

Did you know that when you have a lumpectomy you must also have a post-operative procedure to guide the surgeon to the lesion site? Another series of mammograms are conducted to pin-point the exact spot. I know that I have been sliding over the "mammogram procedure" in my narrative but any woman who has had a mammogram knows what I am talking about - but honestly.....this took tremendous courage to even think about walking into the image room once again. Now the only truly fun thing about this whole day was the ambulance ride from the hospital to the imaging center. It was a whole parking lot away but I got to ride in a brand new ambulance with two cuter than cute EMT's. They gave me a blanket to cover up my hospital gown (which was open in the back) and helped me into the ambulance.  They made me laugh, teased me and made me feel as if I was the most important patient in the world. I asked them why they didn't just use a little golf cart and they said, "Really? Do you want to ride through the parking lot with your hospital gown flapping and all of you exposed to the elements?" Suddenly the ambulance ride made perfect sense.

In preparation for the needle and wire procedure, I was met with the same nurse and radiologist who had performed my biopsy. They said, "Oh....you!" Apparently I was the topic of discussion after the biopsy crime-scene clean up.  Needless to say, the doctor was absolutely flawless as he made certain I was totally deadened, found the cross hairs on the mammogram, inserted the needle, guided the wire to the lesion site, withdrew the needle and patted me on the shoulder to show how proud he was of me.

All I can say is that I lived.

I lived through the....

• needle and wire procedure, 
• general anesthesia
• recovery room (no memory there)
• loss of the nasty lesion and rather large hematoma (as a result of the biopsy)
• drive home in the car with my daughter while continually checking myself to see if I truly had all of the body parts I went in with. 
• pain, sick stomach, panic attacks, nightmares, being swollen and sore and the unmentionable digestive problems.
• neighbor's dogs barking during the day (I am never home during the day and had no idea)

I lived to thank my.....

• children and grandchildren for their prayers and for the strength and courage they gave me
• friends and co-workers who sent notes and cards and flowers to cheer me up
• dear family and friends who listened and understood
• special and tender daughter who stayed by my side from beginning to end and continues to add joy to my days.  

"I like living, I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

   -Agatha Christie

    

My Favorite Place

I have been to Martha's Vineyard and fell in love years ago but the tourists were all over the place. I almost felt bad for the residents who owned cottages and  beautiful homes on the island. I loved the hydrangas, the grasses and little fences going down to the beach and the cottages and homes with hanging baskets full of blooms. When we traveled to the Outer Banks I felt the similarities of Martha's Vineyard but Ocracoke Island is less accessible, less commercialized and very quaint. The only way to get to Ocracoke Island is by ferry or boat or plane. You can't just sit on your patio and watch the ocean - you have to hunt for it - bicycle for a few miles or get in your car and drive to it. The dikes by the side of the road protect the homes and roads from the frequent tropical storms and occasional hurricanes.But the white sandy beaches and the turquoise oceans are like a tropical island. Of course, the restaurants will rival any great tourist place but the markets and specialty stores are small and kind of quirky. The weeds grow in between houses and you won't find the manicured lawns or landscaped yards. You will find little flowers springing up in the oddest places, a row of konch shells lined up outside someone's window, dogs barking, little baskets of flowers hanging from trees, interesting mail boxes and bicyclists waving and greeting passersby. It's a "feel good place". I hope to go there again some day.  My mouth is watering for a crab-cake sandwich.

A Few Secrets of My Own.....

How can they not realize what a gift it is to see a beautiful small doe with a miniature little fawn following close behind? I am talking about the visitors to Zion National Park. Do they take it for granted? Do they expect it? Well...not me. I well never get over the thrill of seeing wild deer up close and in their natural habitat. Granted, they are protected in the park but they still forage for their own food and wander through the grasses and trees at leisure.

Last evening it rained just enough to add life to the forest. I sat out on my private patio and watched the lightening and listened to the rain. The rich earthy smell was wonderful. It has been so hot and dry this summer.  It is so rare to be in the park at first light and after dark especially when we live so close. We usually travel to the Park for the day and hike up to the Emerald Pools, Weeping Rock or up to the point where the Narrows begin. But I wanted to be there when the deer come meandering down through the trees to the grass by the lodge, when the fox are out, when the tourists are gone or in their rooms for the evening.

 

I wanted to be by myself and think and watercolor and read and meander on my own. So I booked a room at the lodge for myself and did just that. I saw a Steller's Blue Jay on my way to Weeping Rock, discovered a bug bite (I'm thinking a spider or scorpion got me) that only gets bigger as the days go by. I soaked my feet in the river and turned and there was this beautiful buck standing 10 feet away from me.  I frantically got out my low battery iPhone and snapped this fuzzy photo.


I listened to the little brook of water trickling down the mountainside on my way to the Lower Emerald Pools. I sat on the rock bench and let the little drops of water fall on my face close to the waterfall. I ate when and where I wanted, I shopped in Springdale and went to all of the stores that I have always wondered about but never took the time to visit. I drove up to and through the tunnel and wondered how I ever had the courage to drive those switchbacks on my motorcycle. I checked out the buffalo at the ranch outside of the Park and turned around and came back through it again.

My favorite thing was to have the red tag in my car that allowed me to drive up to the lodge during the shuttle season.  I felt like I had a little privilege that only a few people get.  I watched people, I listened to the grandpa out on the private patio next to mine read a chapter of a book to his grandchildren before they went to bed. I laughed at the family of five that had all purchased these new, identical expensive boots just for hiking up the Narrows. I rode the shuttle and listened to the pre-recorded tour guide tell us all about the secrets of Zion.  Now I know a few secrets of my own.