So my mother has breast cancer
This is one of those things I just can't come up with a clever, meta reference post title for.→
Something turned up in my mother's yearly mammogram a few weeks ago, a shadow that might have been cancer or nothing. She had a biopsy done January 29 and got the results this past week and called me tonight to tell me it was cancer.
The doctors won't be able to tell her the extent or stage of the cancer until surgery is done. She has an appointment with a surgeon February 20, and hopefully it won't be much of a wait for surgery. The best outcome at this point is that the cancerous matter is small and easily removed, because if so the surgery will be all she needs. If the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes, she will need chemo and/or radiation and her prognosis will be grimmer.
My mother seemed to be her usual brisk, practical self on the phone. She has noticed no lumps or symptoms and says she feels fine, though she has lost 5 pounds since Christmas despite the fact that she hasn't been making any effort to lose weight.
My dad actually sounded upset (for him, that is — he's one to keep things inside), and said he was just trying to take it all in at this point. We talked about their Valentine's Day plans and I looked up the address of the closest location for the restaurant he said my mother would like to go to, and I encouraged him to get my mother flowers and a gift card for a massage if he can't think of gift for her (Mum is really hard to please and to shop for when it comes to gifts).
I hope for the best outcome, that the surgery will be all that's needed and that Mum will stay cancer-free afterward, but I had hoped for the best outcome of the biopsy only to get the worst. The surgery as well may take a bad turn. I have lost three members of my family since late 2011 (a brother, a cousin, an uncle) so I think, "Not this too...." and then I realize the futility of all wishes and hopes and the tallying of losses and gains. Life does not work that way.