It all began…
…three summers ago, on a morning not much different than today. Sun shining. Texas heat already showing itself. My first stop was to see the radiologist for a breast biopsy (following a questionable mammogram). Later I visited the kidney doctor for my annual check-up. Hit it all in one day is how I like to approach doctor’s visits.
While visiting with my kidney doctor, we began our normal back and forth banter—that’s how we always start—a man with a keen sense of humor! A few minutes into the exam, he got his serious face on, and started doing his doctor-thing. As I’ve witnessed him do on many occasions, he closed his eyes, concentration setting in, leaned forward, and readied himself to listen closely to my heart. As he went to place his stethoscope in the area of my heart, I noticeably flinched; he had accidentally grazed the area where my breast biopsy had taken place earlier that day. He opened his eyes and saw that my chest was wrapped in an ACE bandage.
“What is this?”
Clearly, I had some ‘splainin to do.
“Oh, I just had a breast biopsy thing this morning. Whatever….” My voice trailing off.
(Because, as you know, if you say something all nonchalant-like, as if it’s no big deal, then of course, it’s not….)
But here’s the truth…something I’m coming clean on now: at that point, I already knew it was a big deal. I somehow knew I would receive a diagnosis of breast cancer resulting from that morning’s biopsy.