Good Karma? No, incredibly awesome karma!!

Okay, so I'm a Christian, not a Buddhist, so karma really isn't in my vocab, but in this case, it works.  I like to call it love, support, community, friends, connection.  The week following my diagnosis reveal, we called family and friends for support and prayer.  I wasn't ready for social media.  That makes me "news" and this wasn't news.  It's my life.  And I was scared.  I needed time to let it soak in, to feel God's hand on my shoulder, to feel comfortable talking about what was happening without crying.  I knew that I would receive nothing but positive vibes, love, more prayer and support when I decided to "let the world know" as I call it now, which I knew I would need.  I'll be honest.  I am that girl.  I have grown to love, then dislike, then love again, what social media creates.  Sometimes it's showy, braggy, too revealing.  But sometimes it's the opposite.  It's reality.  It's pain, it's asking for help, it's sharing what's going on in our lives so that we have an extended hand of community.  And for that I am grateful.  Two days ago I posted my blog on Facebook.  Today I am in awe at the encouragement and support that I feel.  It's actually a little overwhelming.  That can't be bad.  Jack put it this way "Babe, you give out an incredible amount of love to the world.  You now need a little back.  It all comes back around."  The constant stream of text messages and phone calls, the flowers, the cards, the meals, the caramel macchiato's, the late night convos, the hand holding, the wiping of tears and the tender "I love you's."  Thank you, friends.  I love you too.  And I do need you.  We all need each other through this crazy lovely journey around the sun.

Onto the update: During that week a lot of people were praying for me as I stepped into a new doctors office or lab almost every day, sometimes two in one day.  Consulted with Dr. K to have surgery on Friday, September 4th.  Had my first appointment with Dr. L, my oncologist (that was brutal...walking into Western Washington Oncology through a waiting room full of old people.  I'm rare at an office like this).  Spent time with good friends (S&C) who dig deep, know me well and are making sure that I'm taken care of and emotionally stable.  Jack and I are eternally grateful for them and feel like we'd be missing out without them in our lives.  Our kids are amazing.  Keegan and Hannah rise and fall with grit and grace.  They are strong and supportive, taking care of themselves and serving me in any way possible.  They are also weak.  Sobbing in confusion and frustration.  Is their mom going to be okay?  They can't imagine me sick...down for 6 months.  "You're our rock, mom.  This isn't fair!!"  We love on each other every day.  We take care of each other.

So, cheers to an incredible support system, friends whose hearts are bigger than the sun, a family who gives endless love and adoration to their mama/wifey, and believe it or not, to social media.  Because I can't possibly reach all of you individually to ask for prayer.  And flowers.  And maybe food.

xoxo,
A

Its hard to tell your mom and dad "I have cancer"

August 28th, 2015 - Preliminary Diagnosis

First shout out to my husband.  No stone will ever be left unturned with this one.  Being a physician, he feels the responsibility of making sure that he knows everything about everything about breast cancer.  And that he contacted all appropriate colleagues in town to be sure I am getting the best care possible.  So, needless to say, I am surrounded by an amazing care team made up of some very wonderful people who are making sure I'm receiving an overabundance of support and guidance through this process.

After the biopsy was removed (thursday), we would have normally waited until the following Tuesday to hear back with results from the lab (Swedish in Seattle).  But Dr. Fields can't wait.  He called first thing Friday morning, while I was sharing the news with my dear friend C, over an early lunch.  I was trying to take it all in, what this meant for me.  I had peace.  I know that I am in His hands.  AND, I'm a fighter.  A good one.  Ask Jack:)

Jack calls me on my cell.  "Hey, baby, where are you? Can I meet you downtown and just see you?"
Okay, first of all, my husband does NOT leave his office during the day.  He works.  Secondly, we don't talk alot during the day.  He's super busy.  Evenings are "our" time.  So, I thought, how sweet of him! It was beautiful outside, still feeling like summertime, hand in hand walking downtown Oly.

What happened next will permanently be posted in my memory.  Jack stopped and held both of my hands on the corner of Legion and Washington. "Baby, I don't know how to say this.  It's cancer."

The rest of the day was a big box of kleenex.  I went back to Jack's office for a breast MRI to see if they could see any cancer cells anywhere else.  The pathology on my biopsy showed that the form of breast cancer I have is high grade and aggressive, therefore, we wanted to see if anything else "popped up" on MRI.  And it was clear, thank you Lord!

Next came the phone calls to my parents and Jack's mom.  At this point I'm not only realizing the gravity of what's happening, but now need to tell my parents that their baby girl has cancer.  That's just stupid.  And unfair.  Once again, like He tells us over and over again, "I will protect you and cover you with my healing love."  The faith that runs this family ABSOLUTELY holds us together.

"What do you mean, you don't like what you see..."

Thursday, August 27th, 2015. 2:30pm.
My lovely lady lumps have just been pressed between 2 pieces of glass and photographed. Awesome. Not.
Next comes the warmth of ultrasound gel, warm blankets and the sweet soothing voice of an ultrasound tech I've known for years. My husband, Jack, is a radiologist here. Everyone knows who I am. And apparently quite a few of them can see something very wrong on the display screen, but I am completely unaware.
But let's backtrack a bit.  In March I had my annual mammogram and it was clear. Clean as a whistle.
Then, in the middle of July, I felt something that I had not felt before on my right breast. It's the middle of summer, life is good. I waited to see my internist until August 25th. She felt it and thought I should get it checked out on diagnostic mammo...just to be sure.
So here we are. As the doctor finished the ultrasound and our casual friendly small talk, he rolled his chair right up next to me and said "I don't like what I see." Wait. What? What's that mean? The next sentence he spoke threw me into a panic. "I think I should go get Jack." Okayyyy.....?
My sweet husband already knew. He had been watching as the images of his wife loaded up on his monitor, only to sit in silence and fear and wait. He was waiting outside the ultrasound room for his que to come in.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  "What are we talking about here?" I ask.
(Dr B) "It looks like Cancer. We need to biopsy it and see what we're looking at."
My mind races. Okay, tomorrow is kinda full, I could move some things around and do it sometime next week...
(Dr B) "They just cleared my afternoon. We need to do it now."
Oh shit. (Pardon the French)
Now I AM scared.

The next hour pretty much sucked. Mind racing. Needles needling. Loud clicking sound of tissue being extracted to send to the lab.

Keegan was waiting to be picked up and then needed to get to soccer. Hannah needed to get home and have dinner and be ready for soccer carpool. My kids. They are my everything. I can't have cancer. I have to be there for them.

I went home and rested. We all are scared. Now we wait for an answer.