I Passed!

At 9 a.m. this morning, I was in my oncologist's office, the first time with my curly hair. I was just in for a blood draw, and the vein in my right arm cooperated with the needle wielded by a professional blood taker, and before I knew it, my arm was wrapped up, minus several vials of blood.

Since it was a fasting blood test, I hadn't eaten anything since last night, but all I was in the mood for as I headed to mammography was a bottle of water. I saw my friend Pam briefly before getting called back to change into the warm robe. I waited through a cup of tea and another glass of water before finally being called back for the x-rays. Because of problems with my thyroid, I always ask for the thyroid guard. I did this on my own, based on a recommendation from someone on a breast cancer website, but last summer I asked my endocrinologist what he thought. He said it was a good idea to protect my thyroid from any radiation exposure I could. After being manipulated and squished by the 3-D imaging machine, I was asked to go wait again in the waiting room.

The minutes ticked slowly by. I prayed for others in the room, especially those who were waiting on results like me. I prayed for my friend Pam who had probably gotten her mammogram by now. Some new ladies came. Some of the others were called back and left. I still waited. The verse that kept repeating in my mind was, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,   I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." (Psalm 23:4)

The Breast Center is not what I would call the valley of the shadow of death. The people there, from the receptionists, the assistants, the technicians and doctors are all amazing people. I always feel respected and cared for when I enter into the back waiting room. The shadow of death, though, is the cancer that might be lingering inside me. Cancer could mean death. Yet, I knew God was with me, every step of the way. I felt His presence. Every time I wondered if I should be worrying about the length of time that has passed, I reminded myself that God had my back, the peace I was feeling was what I was supposed to be feeling. Then the technicians called me back to take a few new films. She asked me if I had a port-a-cath. I told her I did. She thought that scar tissue from that had shown up on my film, but the doctor wanted to take some other angles on my right side and be sure. My right side is the good side. The cancer was in my left side.... I was pretty confident that it was scar tissue, so my blood pressure stayed normal as I submitted to more squeezing and breath holding.

Back to the waiting room I went. More time to pray. There was the cutest little boy of about 4 years old who came in with his mom. I loved watching him interact with his mom, trying not to be too obvious about it. She had gone in and come back, too. I prayed that she didn't have anything serious going on, but she looked so peaceful, flipping through a magazine and answering every question fired at her by her son. They were called back in and I was left alone to continue to pray.

Finally, the technician came back and said, even though it looks like it was scar tissue on the second films, the doctor wanted to be certain. She walked me down to ultrasound, where I waited again. A very nice ultrasound technician ushered me back to a room, where I lay on my back and she prepped the machine. I told her how I had started at 9 a.m. with a fasting blood test and I was getting a little hungry. It was now closing in on noon. She was so sympathetic of my wait, in fact she was sorry for my entire breast cancer journey, and she offered a coupon to pick up a free item at the coffee shop afterwards. As she pressed the wand on my skin, she remarked, "This looks like healthy tissue." When she was finished, she had to show everything to the doctor, but felt confident I would get the green light to go. She came back with the blue coupon for a free item at the deli and word that the doctor had passed me. I thanked her for her kindness, and she helped  me navigate the maze back to my clothes. On my way out, I treated myself to a vanilla latte, knowing I had some nuts and fruit stashed in my bag to nibble on during my errands on the way home.

This is my third screening mammogram since the diagnosis. I remember after the last two I couldn't hold back the tears when I got the good news. This time, while I was extremely relieved, I wasn't as emotional about the results. Perhaps I had more time to experience God's peace. Maybe I'm getting used to this process. Maybe I'm still waiting for the all-clear from my oncologist next week, after the results of the blood test for things like tumor markers. Maybe I just want to feel thankful and not tearful. When I texted some of my friends and posted the good news on Facebook, though, the heart-felt responses brought tears to my eyes. I guess it's still a big deal, even though I am getting better at it!