Another restless night tossing and turning, I flip onto my stomach when ouch, my boob hurts. Did I lay on something? Flipping again onto my back this time, hand under my shirt I began to feel around. There! There it is! I didn’t’ t lay on something, I have a lump!
It was 4 o’clock in the morning, I was tired, so I easily convinced myself to let it go until morning.
When morning came, my eyes barely open, the recognition filled my head. I have a lump on my breast. Did I maybe dream it? So again, I timidly reached under my T-shirt and sure enough it was definitely there. A small, pea-sized bump underneath my right breast. Reality hit me and I was immediately overwhelmed. The tears came and I quietly sobbed.
I made an appointment with my doctor for later that day. He confirmed it. I do indeed have a lump that needs to be checked out further.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “It feels like it’s a cyst but we have to be sure.”
“Okay,” I said.
I had a mammogram. The results were “undeterminable.” I had to look that up. It basically means, at this point, they can’t positively identify what it is. So now I must follow up with an ultrasound and possibly a biopsy.
“Don’t worry, it’s procedure.” More words of encouragement that don’t necessarily make me feel any better.
Finally, the day of the ultrasound. The nurse was gentle, almost too gentle, if that makes any sense.
The results of that test, of course, “We think we are dealing with a benign cyst, but we have to be sure.”
I am scheduled for a biopsy the following Tuesday.
I am not scared, but I am anxious. Anxious for the testing to be finished and anxious to move forward in whichever path the results of those tests lead me.
So now, here I am, waiting. Waiting to hear, at some point in time, two small but powerful words. Nonmalignant.
Well, I didn’t’ t have to wait long. A week before Christmas I got a call from the doctor that everything was normal and I should schedule another mammogram in six months to be re-checked. Thank God!
All of that happened in the span of less than two months, but to me, it felt like a lifetime. The relief I felt with that final phone call is unexplainable. I literally felt the weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I couldn’t’ t stop the tears of joy I shed, even if I wanted to.
Life. So precious and fragile.
Sometimes it takes a scare, like the one I had, to shake a person up a little. To help us realize just how precious and delicate life really is. To realize that the life so many of us take for granted, can be taken away from you in a heartbeat.
Our lives are constantly being tested and probed. Both physically and mentally. One illness, one angry word, can change everything.
We must learn not to take for granted the simplicity of life. We must learn to cherish everything, from the smallest flower bud to the grandest mountains that seem too magnificent to comprehend.
From the most innocent words of a child to the brilliant teachings of a college professor. All of life is to be appreciated and loved. Don’t wait for something to happen that may pose the risk of losing everything or everyone that is special to you.
Live every day like it is your last, before it actually becomes, just that.
