In July 2022, I went for my mammogram, as I do religiously each year. I have many family members that have been diagnosed with cancer, and yes, many are no longer with us. So, I vowed to do everything I could to avoid being another member of the cancer club. I stayed on top of my health by eating healthy and staying active.
When I got a call back from the imaging department saying they’d like to do more imaging and an ultrasound, I didn’t really think too much of it. I’d had this happen before and was relieved they were being overly cautious and doing additional testing. During the ultrasound, the doctor’s demeanor changed ever so slightly. The cheerful banter between doctor and patient stopped while she and the technician quietly discussed what they were seeing on the screen. I began to feel dread creep up inside that only someone who has been in a similar position would understand. She turned to me and said, “there’s a small area that’s worth doing a biopsy.” Wait, what? I’d never been down this road.
With a million questions and emotions swirling, I scheduled a biopsy and walked to meet my husband in the waiting room telling myself to act natural and don’t overreact. This is just precautionary. I waited two weeks for the biopsy and four days later received the phone call that no one wants to get. “I’m sorry, you have cancer.”
It’s now two months later, I have had my partial mastectomy with one lymph node removed and I am preparing for radiation treatment followed by five years of hormone inhibitor medication. I’ve spent the last two months, researching, crying, thinking, and trying to make sense of the acronyms, terminology, and choices I need to make. It’s overwhelming at times.
I chose my surgeon, oncologist, and radiologist carefully. I got second and third opinions, joined an online support group and I’ve selected the treatment plan I believe is the right choice for me. What I have also decided is that cancer will not be my legacy. There are many facets to who I am and while this is a devastating and life-altering disease, it does not define me. I am a wife, mother, friend, sister, neighbor, educator and most importantly, I am a woman.
I will complete my treatment and I’m sure I will have good days and bad days throughout the process. I’m ready for the fight and I am prepared. While “cancer” is now a part of my life journey, it is not the only part. This, like many other experiences in my life, will no doubt make me stronger and hopefully wiser. “The only way out is through it,” and I plan to come through it with renewed energy and gratitude for all this life has given me.
~ N. Irish, Founder