Just Get Me Through This! - Revised and Updated. Deborah A. Cohen

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СКАЧАТЬ removal of a mass or calcifications that are not technically amenable to either core biopsy or stereotactic biopsy (deep or close to the chest wall, directly behind the nipple, or in patients who cannot be positioned for stereotactic biopsy due to arthritis or other illness).

      Regardless of which type of biopsy you had, if there is any debate about the interpretation of the results, consider going to a more extensive procedure. A little sacrifice now of time, pain, and even tissue may save you a lot later.

      Getting Your Lab Report . . . like Remembering Where You Were When JFK Was Shot.

      Just accept that you will never forget the moment your doctor received the results of your lab test, and had to break the news to you. Just as every American adult has a vivid snapshot branded in their memory of exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news that John F. Kennedy was shot, so will you have an indelible imprint of where you were and how you were told that you have cancer. Just as JFK’s assassination became a significant moment in American history, your news will become a part of your heritage, your strength, who you are. No matter how much you want to rewind the clock and erase it, you can’t. Cancer is now part of your history.

      A Dose of Quiet Time Is the Best Medicine for the Ordeal Ahead.

      No matter what your point of origin, be it your family physician, your gynecologist, a breast specialist, or even a dermatologist, if you are reading this book, all roads have led you to this shocking crossroads. Like me, you now have cancer as a relevant term in your life—for the rest of it! However, as you will see throughout this book, this news is not a destination, or an end, but the beginning of a new journey—a journey that will redefine who you are and what you want from life, a journey that has obstacles, but also high points, and a journey that many others will share with you and help you endure. However, in the immediate aftermath of receiving your diagnosis, allow yourself some moments alone to just sit and let it sink in as much as it can. Maybe you already have by the time you’re reading this. But if you haven’t, get away to places that make you feel good. If you like art, go to a gallery or museum. If you like the outdoors, go for a hike or walk in the nearest park. Don’t necessarily do anything yet. Look at the surroundings you’ve chosen, and realize how little you actually see on a daily basis, until news like this makes you wake up to the details of the world around you. Realize how lucky you are just to be sitting there. These moments alone will allow you to get your head clear enough to understand what is happening to you, determine who you need to share your news with, in what order, how, and when. And if you haven’t already, use some of this time to make lists of all the questions you want to ask your doctor and all the people who can possibly help you and might know something about your new disease.

      A Three-Phase Plan for Letting the News Sink in.

      The news that you have breast cancer cannot be comprehended in a single dose. It’s something that may happen in phases over several days—easing into your consciousness, and understanding that, “Yes, they are talking about me.” And while you will come to understand that fact, it will actually take months, perhaps years, to fully comprehend the implications of that little piece of news. So, after that initial life-changing phone call from your doctor, here’s a simple three-phase plan that I used to handle myself in the transition from healthy person to breast cancer patient (at least temporarily):

      Phase 1. Building Your Inner Circle: A State of Shock as the Means to Maintaining Composure.

      First, determine who in your immediate world needs to know about this right away, if only to keep you from crumbling emotionally. Your list might include traditional family members such as your spouse/significant other, children, siblings and parents. But think carefully. Your traditional family may not be as much support as you need, for any number of reasons—they won’t handle the news well themselves, they are preoccupied with illnesses or life challenges of their own, they are geographically distant, etc. Perhaps there are a few other people who should be included in this “inner circle” of support, people who you know will provide that rock-solid pillar of emotional stability that you’ll need for the next several months. Consider them surrogate family. Choose about four or five people. See them in person, if possible, so they can see you, touch you, and know that you are the same person. Otherwise call them. But regardless of how you contact them, please soften the shock a bit by prefacing your news with a comment like, “I have something to tell you, but please hear this first . . . I will be fine . . .”

      Despite vocalizing your news, you might still be in shock and not believe this is happening to you. Like me, you might not have even shed one tear yet. That’s okay, you’re numb. (Or maybe you have. And that’s okay too.) Even as I tried to sleep that first night, I didn’t cry. But I did lie awake all night, shivering so uncontrollably that my teeth chattered, out of terror, fear, and uncertainty of what lay ahead....

      Phase 2. First Cry, See Your Doctor . . . Then Do Something Spectacular.

      As the numbness wears off and reality sets in, you might start to cry, and have moments when you just can’t stop. That is absolutely normal. After a while, you’ll feel the need to pull yourself together. I found that two things helped put a stop to my crying. First, have the consultation with your doctor to identify all the issues you need to address, and determine the options you have to remove the cancer. Bring someone from your “inner circle” with you to take notes on what the doctor recommends. In your state of mind, you might be listening, but you won’t hear, let alone comprehend, everything.

      By just knowing that there are a lot of options for you to eradicate this cancer from your body and your life, you will feel much better. The doctor might discuss lumpectomy versus mastectomy, radiation, chemotherapy, even hormone therapy. Yes, it is terrifying, but it also can provide a strange sense of calm. Although I had never been in a hospital in my entire life—except the day I was born—I felt great relief knowing that soon I would have surgery to get the cancer out of me. In fact, the surgery was scheduled for a few weeks later, but I was so panicked that the cancer was multiplying exponentially by the minute that I asked the doctor to move the surgery date sooner. Eight days later, I had a lumpectomy and axillary lymph node dissection. (See the discussion in Chapter 3, “Deciding on Surgery.”)

      The second approach is to do something that absorbs all of your concentration. After a doctor’s visit that airs all the issues you’ll have to address over the next several months, do something spectacular, something completely out of the ordinary of your daily routine. Do something that takes your full attention, that raises others’ expectations of you, that has absolutely nothing to do with your current trauma. In my case, I had to go to work and, in fact, had scheduled interviews with senior executives for a book project we were deep in the midst of. So I walked out of the doctor’s office, wiped my tears dry yet one more time, and pulled out the company’s annual report on the way to their offices. After all, I needed to know what the company did before I could intelligently interview! I had to be “on” and could not re-schedule. So, with eyes as pink as the magenta suit I was wearing that day, I conducted my interviews, just as if life were “normal.”

      If you are fortunate enough not to have to go to work, then do something that will make you smile, but make sure you are around other people to distract you. Take your children to an amusement park. Have an extra-long exercise session at your gym to make yourself feel really good. Work on any community activities you might be involved in that make you feel good about helping others less fortunate than you. Just don’t think about yourself for the time being.

      Phase 3. Expand Your Inner Circle: Break the News, Be Surprised.

      By the time you move into the third phase, you may be composed enough to start breaking your news to a wider circle of people. While you might worry that telling others will make you feel like a leper, believe it or not, it will make you feel better. I decided to expand my initial inner circle by calling my six closest friends in the world, regardless of СКАЧАТЬ