The Elephant in the Room

December 2008

Once I knew I had cancer, I became consumed by it. I had to come to terms with it, and one of the ways was to tell others that I had the disease. Saying the “c” word is not easy, as I learned early on. But I forced myself to do it. I started with my family: my daughters and my son. Then I called my sisters and my brother. I called a few friends but not everyone. At Woburn, on a supply teaching day in, I let my closest colleagues know one by one.

 

By telling people, by saying the words, “I have breast cancer”, I overcame some of my fears. Breast cancer is very common. We all know people who have had it, and the great majority are survivors. I became convinced that I was going to overcome cancer too. It had been caught early. I was being treated in a timely fashion. I had faith in the medical team under whose care I had been placed.

 

A few days after my diagnosis, I received a call informing me that Dr Koo’s associate, Dr. George, would take my case and perform the surgery on the day I requested: January 23^rd. I wanted to meet him, so I arranged an appointment for December 19^th. This time I went alone. It was the day of the worst snowstorm of the winter and the afternoon before our annual tree trimming party.

 

My niece, a doctor in Kingston, knew Dr George when he was there and described him as the nicest man in the world. He was very warm: he tends to pat my knee when he is speaking to me. I liked him at once. But his message was more upsetting than Dr. Koo’s had been. For the first time, I was presented with the possibility of a mastectomy, rather than a lumpectomy; he said chemo might be an option post surgery, followed by radiation (which I had expected). He wanted me to be mentally prepared for all options because the MRI and the surgery might reveal more cancer than the ultrasound had done.

 

Again, I was in shock. That afternoon, I had also arranged to meet with Miriam, the “patient navigator” at St. Mike’s. A double mastectomy survivor and a nurse, her role is to help patients cope with the devastating news that is breast cancer diagnosis. I remember very little of our conversation that first day, but one thing she said caused me to dissolve into tears. She mentioned the many positives that come with the disease. People can be so wonderful, even people I barely know. I had already experienced that. I cried because I felt so supported, beyond my wildest dreams. What had I done to deserve such love?? I remember sobbing with just Miriam and me in the room.

 

Afterwards, I went home in the snow and prepared for a party. No time for crying jags. My stoicism kicked in and I enjoyed the evening with friends and family.