This has been an amazing week.
I used to love autumn. It was my favorite season. So much so I chose to be married the first time in October. I love the cooler temperatures and the colors of the trees and the crispness of the air. I loved going back to school as a kid. I have always thought of fall as the season of change.
But as things in my life happened, I noticed a pattern of not so nice things happening in the fall. It changed my favorite season to be late spring and early summer, with June being my favorite month.
I started the process of my divorce in November, I was diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis in October, I went through several seasons of terrible medical issues, including the possibility of Ovarian Cancer discovered in September but by January the next year was dismissed as just a dermoid tumor. The list goes on includes thyroid issues, severe kidney problems and pituitary tumors.
I dread fall now for those reasons. But I also hate the dying of all the plants. One morning, I will wake up and my garden will have been killed by a frost. It devastates me. All that work all summer to have it gone in one night. I fight it by covering things for a while but then I know I have to sacrifice all the flowering plants. I do bring in many and host them for the winter, but the impatiens won’t make it. Even the large maples will shed their canopy and the garden will be barren. The animals will disappear for the most part, even though I continue to feed them.
Well true to form, I had an issue. Two weeks ago, I went for my annual mammogram. I am faithful about that test. My mother’s sister, my favorite aunt, had breast cancer and had a double mastectomy at a very early age.
I had a new kind of imaging done that I have never had before. They found something. I got a call back requesting I return for another diagnostic test and then would be required to wait for a consult with a doctor. I knew I had a crazy week and so I waited until the following Friday to return.
The week was worrisome. I finally convinced myself it was just an issue with the imaging as she said she had trouble and needed to take two of the right breast. I did not know that was not the reason, but I clung to the idea she messed up through the week. But true to someone who has PTSD, my body reacted with terrible flares of pain. By Friday, I could hardly walk.
The Elizabeth Wende Breast Center is a fabulous facility here in my town. They have satellite offices and I usually go to one of those. But for this recall, I had to go back to the main center. It was mobbed. You waited in line just to check in. I was told I was going to the other side of the facility and to wait in a separate area. It was smaller and calmer. Once you are in the actual facility, it is run like a spa. There is soft music and no sound is emitted from the TVs in the waiting rooms. They have couches and soft colors and you feel like you are in someone’s living room. They offer chair messages and paraffin treatments, and you can shop for jewelry while you wait. It is so soothing that the lady next to me wrapped herself up in a blanket and fell asleep.
The technicians are very kind. She allowed me to see the images she took along with the ones from the previous test. Sure enough, there was a mass and there was no denying it. I was sent back to the waiting room and fought back tears. It was a long wait, it seemed.
After a hour and half wait, they brought me back to the doctor’s office and I had to have an ultrasound done. I walked around the room in anticipation of what was next and I noticed the doctor’s multiple diplomas. The doctor’s name was Posy Jane. How could someone with that name give me bad news? She was crisp yet nice and allowed me to watch as she honed in on the darkened spot. She declared it a cyst and said not to worry. I love Dr. Posy Jane S. It was the best news.
I have a real empathy for the women I know who have gone through breast cancer. It was terrifying even though I had a great outcome. And what if it was something? I was glad I had the opportunity to have such state of the art facilities. They have such great new technology out there that must be saving many women’s lives. Early detection is critical.
I am hoping this was my crisis for the year. The garden is still going great and I plan on sitting out there today and read. We will go to the farmer’s market and then I will create a fall dinner with many vegetables and celebrate the beauty of the season. I know I am blessed and dodged a bullet. I am grateful.