On May 19,2003 I got an invitation I never expected and one I never wanted to get. You don't have to RSVP to this invitation, because you don't get to choose whether or not you want to go. Once you get it, your RSVP is in the mail.
Welcome to the PINK SIDE.
Monday afternoon May 19, 2003, life as I knew it, came to a screeching halt. I got the phone call no one wants. "The pathologist saw some cancer cells in another part of the duct." I couldn't breath. I couldn't think past that word. My knees got weak. I didn't have the strength to stand. I'm just glad there was a chair next to me. Otherwise I would have been sitting in the floor.
I HAD BREAST CANCER.
To say the fear was overwhelming, doesn't even come close to describing how I felt. I could hear people talking to me and hear everything around me, but the voices and and the sounds seemed so distant, as if I were in an alternate universe. And I guess in a way I was. I had already crossed over that line. I was already on the Pink Side.
And let me tell you that being a nurse doesn't prepare you any better for news like this. Having medical knowledge doesn't make you smarter when it comes to making decisions about what to do. You're vulnerable and you don't know what to do, or where to turn. The fear is so overwhelming that parts of your brain shut down, and you need time to absorb everything and for your brain to start functioning again. And even when it does, the decisions aren't any easier. There are no magic answers. No perfect treatments. But you do what you have to in order to survive.
That one single moment changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. It would forever define who I had become. I would never be the woman I had been before. I was now and would forever be a 'breast cancer survivor'. But I can live with that. Because it sure beats the alternative.
Life goes on, in spite of our best efforts, in spite of how we feel, in spite of our fears, in spite of our standing still. The important thing is to be there when it happens. Living it and experiencing it. Every moment, good or bad, happy or sad. Every precisous moment.