By the end of July, the young woman in genetic counselling called me (you would think I would remember everyone’s names). The results were back for the ovarian and breast cancer genes. It was all negative. I was not at risk for ovarian or breast cancer. Sigh of relief.
Now they would test my blood for other cancer risks. This would take another week or two. But now I was in the clear for a lumpectomy. I shouldn’t say I was a little disappointed about not having the mastectomy, should I? Mastectomies are radical procedures. Women can still get breast cancer after mastectomies. The cancer will just present itself in the chest wall.
I was very happy with the outcome. This would mean that my daughters wouldn’t have to get themselves tested. They were pretty much in the clear. However, I told them that I wanted them to be diligent with their care. I want them to be on top of all of this. I told them again that if I hadn’t had the mammogram, the tumor would not have been discovered until it was much larger. At this point, it was all manageable. Who knows how it could have turned out?
I called my surgeon’s office and let them know to schedule me for a lumpectomy. The surgeon wanted to do it the following week. But, we had scheduled Bill’s surgery for the following week. I told them to schedule my lumpectomy for the week after. I was fairly certain that Bill would be recovered from his knee surgery by then. August 17th.
It was all becoming real. Realer? Not really. I was still in disbelief. I just couldn’t look at myself and think, I have breast cancer. I just wasn’t there.