megram - Index

megram - 55JunOttawa - Index

Your Health
By Iris Winston
A Cancer Diary
A “routine” mammogram
turns out to be anything but
Iris Winston was diagnosed with breast cancer in
October 2007. Sharing her experiences and thoughts
is intended to help others dealing with similar problems.
Her diary will be published over the next few issues
of Fifty-Five Plus.
August 20, 2007
The day of the annual physical, to be followed by a
series of tests, as always.This is an “on” year to be run over
by a truck — a.k.a. have a mammogram.
At first, my family doctor writes the requisition for a
routine mammography. But, when she examines me, she
finds a small, hard roll of tissue in my right breast and
decides on more closely directed X-rays and an ultrasound.
August 29, 2007
The Queensway Carleton Hospital (QCH) schedules
three tests for the same day, neatly arranged at 15-minute
intervals. (I am to have a bone-density test as well as the
mammogram and the ultrasound. My bones are apparently
in the healthy “green” zone.)
The technician conducting the mammogram is pleasant
and close-mouthed.The tissue compression chamber is
no more painful than usual. (But the experience renews my
conviction that a man with a sadistic streak designed this
machine.)
The young woman dealing with the ultrasound goes
over the territory several times, pushing the ultrasound
wand down hard enough to cause pain. I say nothing, but I
am aware there is an issue, even before she leaves to fetch
the radiologist. I am not surprised when he orders a biopsy.
I go to the hospital booking office to set up the biopsy
appointment. The personnel here seem uninterested in
pleasantries, trying to accommodate the clientele, or putting
people at ease.
June 2008 • 51 • Fifty-Five Plus Magazine
September 20, 2007
Not one biopsy,but three.The radiologist is quietly reassuring.
I decide not to worry until I have something to
worry about.
October 1, 2007
My breast still looks as though I have been in a fierce
rumble.The radiologist had said I might be “a little bruised,”
but black and blue all over is more than a little. Oh, well.
My doctor calls. Now I have reason to worry. If the
news had been good, one of her staff would probably have
called. Her tone is warm and her voice level as she tells me
the diagnosis is “infiltrating ductile carcinoma” and that she
has already made my appointment with an oncology surgeon.
I will see him on Wednesday (this is Monday) and he
will explain my options.
I am both pleased and nervous that the appointment is
so soon. I am grateful that my doctor is taking good care of
me but I am scared by the obvious urgency of the situation.
I realize that my options are likely to be pretty limited.
My first thought is: “Thank God the children are
launched. I don’t have to worry about them.” My second is
to ensure my animals are taken care of.There is no way that
my husband, who has mobility problems, can handle walking
two large dogs twice every day. My third thought is to
make sure my husband is sorted out and the fourth is to
organize all financial details and check on insurance.
October 3, 2007
My husband is with me as the surgeon tells me where
we go from here. He has the knack of explaining clearly
without talking down or being too technical. His job is to
excise the cancerous tissue, taking a margin of healthy tissue
with it, and make sure it doesn’t spread any more.
I must choose between having a complete mastectomy