So how did I get to this point of being a cancer patient? Lots of folks have asked: did you feel a lump? Was something wrong? Why did you go in?
So a little family history for you all (and those of you that are already family, you can just skip right over this part). I knew my grandma on my dad’s side had breast cancer. In fact, it has always been my understanding that was the cause of her passing. I was only 1 years old when my last grandparent, Grandma Kastler, passed, so I didn’t know much about her story, or her journey. I did know that her sister, Great Aunt Rosie, also had breast cancer. But for whatever reason, she decided to fight it further, or caught it earlier, and ended up living to quite a ripe age. If my memory serves me right – she lived to be in her 90’s. Both of these ladies worked in the watch factories, that if you are a reader, there is a great book out about the cancers these workers endured because of the materials used to paint the watch faces. So I blissfully went along for 45 years of my life, knowing there was cancer on my paternal side, but confident it was environmentally induced.
But then my dad’s sister, my Aunt Marti, went in for a double mastectomy due to her cancer diagnosis. This motivated me to quit dealing by avoidance and at the “old” age of 45, go in and get a baseline mammogram.
I honestly thought nothing of the whole mammogram experience. I avoided it because of the horror stories of having the girls smashed between two plate glasses, the agony of standing there while it all hangs out. But honestly, it wasn’t that bad. And the gals at the 3-D mammogram site were great. They even warned me, that being my first mammogram, and at “my age” that the likelihood of being called back was quite high and not to panic on them. They called back almost 80% of all gals for more pictures, just cuz the jugs tend to be dense and lumpy at our age.
So after about 15 minutes, I was done, headed home, and honestly, thought nothing more.
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