3 Years Later

Up until 3 years ago, October 20th meant one thing and one thing only to me. October 20 is the day my paternal great-grandfather was born, and even though he died in December 1986, I still think of him, especially on his birthday. Then, an unwelcome guest crashed the party.

At roughly 1:10 PM on October 20, 2015, I stepped away from a business meeting to take a personal call. It was from a radiologist. The day before, she had biopsied the suspicious mass in my left breast during a routine mammogram and was calling with the results. That was the last time I used the word routine to describe this situation and what transpired.

As I waited to hear the results, I felt as if I were on trial and awaiting the foreman to read the jury’s verdict aloud. The radiologist cut right to the chase. I am so sorry. You have breast cancer. And with those last four words, October 20 took on a whole new meaning for me.

Over the past three years, I have watched cancer of all kinds, not just breast cancer, impact the lives of my family and friends. Some people joined the club for the first time, while others came out of remission to fight the good fight once more. Still, others came to the end of their battle. It is an indiscriminate and unpredictable disease.

As I have watched helplessly from the relative safety of the sidelines, others have remained in the arena and may never emerge. I selfishly fear that I will be on the receiving end of another call similar to the one three years ago. In the back of my mind, I keep waiting for the other shoe, or breast, I should say, to drop. For now, though, both shoes are firmly on my feet, and the laces are double knotted.

That’s another story. . .

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Categories: That's Another Story

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5 replies

  1. 3 years clear is very promising though. Fingers crossed you never get that call again. ๐Ÿ˜Š

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Celebrating three years of health….hoping they are the first three of many, many more.

    Liked by 1 person

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