Cancer hate

About two week's ago I called a good friend to see how her needle biopsy went. Her mammogram signalled something that needed closer inspection.

"It's not benign," she said.

"Wait! No...not...that's not good," I stammered.

"It" is invasive ductal sarcoma - AKA breast cancer. No family history. No sign on previous mammograms.

The world came to a screeching halt. She's been meeting with the surgeons, arranging childcare, convincing the children she'll be fine, and just trying to live a normal life. It's been a roller coaster of emotions, hope, depression. Her third-grader is taking it very hard. The guy who performed the biopsy nailed it - the area is slightly smaller than one centimeter. At first she was hopeful she'd only have to do the lumpectomy. No chance. It's Stage 2, therefore, she'll also have to do radiation and then take a drug for six months. If she takes that drug, no alcohol during that time.

We girls dearly love a glass of good wine.

We live in a small town. She told me she's "given full blessing to talk" about it with people. She's too tired to repeat the story each time. She laughed as she told me she heard she was the conversation topic at a local preservation party she did not attend last weekend.

"I'm finding I'm the elephant in the room," she said. (Maybe I should tell her she's the Pink Elephant in the room.)

She's gathering people to walk together in this weekend's Pink Pass It On walk. Proceeds will benefit our local hospital's breast cancer center scholarship to pay for mammograms for women who cannot afford it. "It's personal now," she explained. http://pinkpassitoninthedistrict.blogspot.com

She called today with Monday's MRI results. The latest finding: her lumpectomy is now a bi-lateral lumpectomy. Yep. Both sides.

Her surgery is Wednesday, October 29. Please send positive thoughts her way.