When I received the results of the biopsy it was the confirmation of a diagnosis that I had already suspected: I had asked two oncologists and the radiologist who took my biopsy how many images of a tumor like mine they had seen that the biopsy results said was not cancer and all three answered me the same: none. Added to the information I had been reading on the internet, I was 99.9% sure it was cancer. 0.1% corresponded to the hope of a miracle. Sometimes those percentages varied, the 0.1% of hope increased, but there were moments of denial.
What wears out the most in those days of waiting for the result is uncertainty. I remember touching my breast every so often to feel the tumor and thinking “how could I not have felt it before?!” A year ago my gynecologist had found nothing. This is why annual gynecological exams are so important. I looked in the mirror and my breast looked like always. I didn’t have any strange physical symptoms, I felt healthy. My blood tests were excellent, all parameters within normal ranges. I felt better than ever and I had cancer!!
There were times when I couldn’t believe it. Others in which he wept with grief. Rage was the last feeling I could access. At first it was bewilderment and grief.
After the confirmation of the diagnosis, I spent about 2 weeks very worried because I did not know if there were metastases in my body, that is, how widespread the cancer was and if it had migrated to other organs, which changed the whole picture because a cancer detected in the form early can be cured. I didn’t tell many people either, I didn’t want anyone to know, I didn’t want them to look at me with pity, with a “poor thing, she’s going to die” face. Only my family and a couple of close friends knew about it. In the downside only a good friend knew. So it was also difficult to continue functioning at work pretending everything was OK. I didn’t want to count on work until I knew what treatment I had to undergo and if I was going to be able to combine both things or if I had to take an extended leave of absence.
In those days I remember that I had some macabre dreams: I dreamed of false executions, that they shot me in a classroom, I fell to the ground and then they told me “it was a joke”. I answered them “but you don’t play with that!!”. Until one day I dreamed that I was on the shore of a lake, the moon illuminated the night and the water was still. It was very peaceful, but I knew there was a sea monster inside. I was standing on a dock and a booby was pulling me to swim underwater. It caught my attention to do that because I knew there was a sea monster inside, but I did it anyway. I remember that I was very struck by the fact that I could breathe underwater without drowning. I swam a lot. Suddenly the sea monster appeared, but I was not afraid. He swam next to me, he was giant, but he only brushed against me, he didn’t attack me. Then I saw the landscape from afar and I could see myself standing on the shore of the lake looking at the horizon, they were like two me at the same time. It was still night, but it was a clear night, full of moonlight. Waking up was very strange but nice, because I was ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that I had no metastasis. That he was going to get out of all this. And that feeling has accompanied me throughout this process. And indeed it was. 3 weeks ago I finished the chemo and I am healthy.
During the 15 days after delivery of the biopsy result that confirms the diagnosis, a series of tests must be taken to find out if there are metastases: lung tomography, ultrasound of the viscera, bone scintigram and blood tests. In my case, fortunately the cancer was only located in the right breast. So all that remained was to schedule the operation. I decided to have surgery at the end of March, I had started with the Helixor, the mistletoe therapy and I wanted to see if I could reduce the tumor in 1 month. I asked the doctor how much risk there was to wait 1 month and not 15 days to have surgery and he told me nothing. So I did. He also felt sure that everything was going to be alright. However, sometimes, the anguish subsided and I thought “Oh, no, the cancer is spreading!”. For example, I had a mole and I immediately went to the dermatologist to rule out that it was carcinogenic. It’s normal to be like this. I have discussed it with other patients, psychologists and doctors. But those moments were the minimum, safety prevailed. I felt like delivered to life. The other uncertainty that must be managed is not knowing if there are compromised lymph nodes in the armpit until the day of surgery. A cancer with healthy nodes has a much better prognosis.
In those days I remember walking down the street doing my normal life and thinking “but I have cancer!”, I was invaded by a feeling of unreality. Although I wasn’t depressed or having a panic attack, I decided to start psychotherapy. I discovered Jennifer Middleton, a Chilean psycho-oncologist who wrote a great book: “I (don’t) want to have cancer” which opened my eyes even more to understand what cancer symbolized in my body. She helped me deal with the uncertainty and psychologically prepare me for surgery.
I also started with treatments of the anthroposophic medicine and acupuncture that have kept me psychologically and physically balanced until today. Almost all the patients I have met who are in the same situation as me are suffering from depression, panic attacks, insomnia and taking medication to control it. In my case, fortunately, none of that was necessary.
Once I had the results of all the tests, I scheduled the surgery, then I would rest for 1 month and then preventive chemotherapy for 6 months.
If you are still of childbearing age, it is important to know that chemotherapy can cause infertility. You should discuss with your oncologist and chemotherapy therapist what options you have to preserve your eggs. In my case, 15 days after surgery I started ovarian stimulation to be able to freeze my eggs. I couldn’t do it before because my tumor was estrogen receptor positive and had to get it out of my system first.
I remember that when I woke up from surgery, I cried with happiness. She was healthy, they had removed the tumor from my body.
A kiss,
COMFORT
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