Always the Last to Bed

Kind of like you’re at the spa.

But not really. White waffle robes. Payment of $250 or more. Stretchy plastic coil key ring with a key to a blonde wooden locker where you place your clothes.

These are about the only things that are the same in this situation except maybe for the nakedness on the table and being in a small room with someone who’s not also naked.

Lounge area with trendy leather sofas and no art on the wall. Misty soft glass walls. Oh wait, there is some art. Wavy metal wall sculpture to conjure relaxing thoughts of water- lakes, rivers. An ocean. You’re here because you failed. You failed the first test. It’s not your fault and nothing you did, but they need a second look. The feeling of the unknown is overwhelming.

I have kids. I want to see them graduate, get married. My oldest daughter is about to graduate high school and has her whole life ahead of her. I want to be here to see it. My youngest daughter is just 11 and needs me. No one knows about her allergies like I do. I just planned a big summer trip for all of us. It’s our 20th anniversary this year. I have more life to live. These are the things that run through your mind as you sit in the cold room looking at the other women sitting there alone with you. They are thinking the same things. Tuning through their to-dos and to-bes.

When you check in, the ladies at the front desk call you sweetie and honey and it’s ok, take your time. They know. They’re experts. They have hearts of gold. If anyone should be paid a million dollars a year, it’s nurses and support staff in a breast cancer wing. Well, any cancer staff. Correction, anyone in the health industry!!

When will I get my results? You ask the check- in person. “Today. We tell you right away.” The nice lady tells you. Great, you think. I’ll know today if I have cancer! But on the other hand, you’ll know today if you have cancer.

The first time I went back for a second mammogram, I thought why didn’t I bring my husband with me? I didn’t know I’d find out today. But yet here are all these women alone. We carry this alone. I’ve had to go back a number of times and I think sure I could bring him, but why. We carry this alone.

Gosh I really didn’t mean for this to be a super sad post. But here we are. And I guess it depends on how you look at it, whether this makes you sad, or gives you hope. The sooner you know about something bad, the better, right? I have a good friend who just finished breast cancer treatment and is now cancer free. When I told her I was going back for a second mammogram, she said “It’s going to be ok. No matter the results, you’re going to be ok.” As I sat there in the waiting room in my robe, I thought about this and the meaning behind those words might be interpreted different ways, but I really thought it was profound. These words came from a person who has been through so much the past year to save her life, and there she was, trying to lift me up. Women are powerful! And we are not alone.

My Mom once said to me, honey every time we get a mammogram we need to know it can happen to any of us at any time. Any day. Any year. No matter your lifestyle, your worth, your family make up, the stress in your life. Cancer doesn’t pick and choose. This did not make sense to me until I was in my 40s, until I experienced the Second Mammogram. But it sure as heck makes sense now.

Another strong woman in my life is my Aunt, who is also a breast cancer survivor. I tell her each time I have a good or bad mammogram and she’s right there supporting me and understands. It’s been almost 20 years cancer free for her and I’m so proud of her! Each year that passes is a huge milestone for her and I won’t forget that.

So I guess the message here is to live life. And you are not alone in this experience. Millions of women relate to the Second Mammogram. And also the scans and reality of whatever comes afterwards. The ultrasound, the biopsy, the diagnosis. All of it. Reach out to your tribe when you go through this. Do your things. See your people. Life is a strange, beautiful thing.

I recently saw a friend post a quote from her Dad along with his obituary and honestly I wrote it on a post it note on my desk and look at it all the time now, it really made sense to me as a call to action for life: “In Spite of all our hopes, plans and dreams, all we ever have is now.” I couldn’t have said it better.