In November, after a mammogram, I was diagnosed with a tiny, cancerous breast tumor. I’ve been so lucky in my life that I was shocked. Someone asked, as a psychic, how did you not know?
I had told my doctor for many months that something was really wrong with me, really wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He just stared at me.
With this bad health news, I try to be gracious and accepting but it’s not so easy. The biopsy hurt, and my surgery pain was rough, but way easier than labor or a bad tooth experience. I guess the worst thing is the worry. How will my radiation go? Will cancer come back in another form or mess with another body part?
I wish I had answers for all the other people who have a worst cancer case than I do. I want to change their sad stories. I’d like to change my own sad story, even though it’s been relatively easy, as the surrounding cells have clear margins. The other women have been so sweet to me, I call it the Cancer Club, but they call me a Pink Sister. When they ask my story and I hesitate because mine is easier, they tell me it’s hard for all of us.
No one can know
everything, even the smartest of the smart. My worries seem to be receding as I
learn more and move through the process. People have been so kind to me,
checking in with me, sending love, listening to my woes.
We can all give love. We all have terrible things happen to us. I did what I
could to lead a healthy life, and I will continue with that. When I wailed to
the surgeon, I’ve been so careful with my eating and exercising habits, and so
little alcohol, so why did this happen to me? She leaned in and said, “You’re
old, just old. That’s why.” I couldn’t have done anything about that fact.
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