Alone at work on a Friday afternoon is no way to find out you have cancer.
I really don’t have any true friends at my job, lots of close associates, very few friends. One woman hugged me. I actually stayed till five then the 2.8 mile drive home felt like 1,000 miles. I couldn’t keep my hand off my breast. I told my husband, he didn’t say much. He’s is very supportive in his way but I think he was scared.
The appointments started almost immediately and first the surgery. I had a lump the size of a quarter taken and I had the option of have a mastectomy, but it didn’t really change my odds of recovery. I just had a heart attack and have heart damage so that type of operation would be very stressful on my system. So I opted out of that.
I did have a bilateral lymph node biopsy and two nodes were removed, not cancerous thankfully. Then I had a medi-port inserted, as I have a hard time with IV insertion so this would make it easier for chemo to be delivered.
So three surgeries in about three weeks! I was exhausted and hadn’t even begun chemo. My work was as supportive as a government job can be, so missing time for treatment worked out fine. Looks like I still had to go!
The first treatment was on a Thursday about two weeks after the port insertion. I was given lots of drugs, had all kinds of blood work, snacks and music and cancer patients all around. I lost my hair about ten days later. I shaved it actually, as it was coming out in lumps and I just couldn’t stand it. Funny thing my hair dresser friend of over 30 years did it and charged me $10. My sixteen year old son drove me as I had lots of narcotics and a couple of beers. I cried as he dabbed the little nics in my scalp from a crummy $10 shave. For a brief instant we had eye contact in the mirror, I saw us together … I saw concern. Gone in an instant, he wanted to go home and not be around the crying, bald sort of drunk mother.
I completely understood him.
I didn’t want to be around me either.