Yesterday I found myself in a familiar position—on my back with my left arm slung over my head and a probe in my armpit. As I lay in the dark room I made small talk with the friendly ultrasound tech—which was a welcome change from the quiet, distant techs I’ve had in the past. We chatted about her kids, work and life in general as she surveyed the area under my arm. Our light conversation put me at ease for the first time since I started doing these ultrasounds in September. Soon, she left and a few minutes later a doctor came into the room. She informed me that my primary tumor appears to be completely gone and my big ass lymph node is even smaller than last time! I really can’t put into words what a relief this is for me. I’ve been taking this “magic pill” for six months now, and I’ve just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m not a negative person by nature but after being diagnosed at 26 I see things differently. I wouldn’t say I see things negatively now, I just don’t assume the best outcome is automatically coming my way. Like I’ve said in previous posts, I didn’t really know how to be grateful before cancer and I just expected good things to happen. Now, I’m cautiously optimistic and count every single blessing given to me. The next steps will be surgery, I’m scheduled for a double mastectomy April 26, then chemo and radiation.
Lately, I’ve been feeling pretty great (aside from the looming surgery date hanging over my head). So before my mom and aunt arrived a few weeks ago to spend their spring break with us, I was cleaning like a mad woman! I remember thinking how grateful I was to be able to complete that mundane task. Before, I hated sweeping, mopping, cleaning bathrooms etc. Now, I realize what a privilege (ha! I can’t wait until Cade reads this) it is to be able to complete these tasks. The same goes for getting clothes out of our washer and putting them in the dryer. Every time I stretch my arms to the bottom of our washer and pull out wet clothes, I am reminded there will soon be a day I won’t be able do something so simple. It makes me both grateful for the fact I can do it now and thankful for the people in my life that will pick up the slack while I recover.
During one of my monthly visits to MD Anderson—it was November 11, I found a seat in the crowded waiting room where patients are held before getting blood draws. There was only one seat so I took it and my mom and sister waited just outside for me. An older gentleman sat next to me and the woman next to him turned to him and said “thank you for your service.” It was Veterans Day and he had on a WWII cap. I also thanked him and the three of us began small talk. The man had heard bits of my phone conversation moments before with Cade and he asked a few questions about why I was at MD Anderson, I looked so young. I explained my diagnosis and the woman shifted in her seat. She explained she too had breast cancer, she also looked so young. The three of us swapped stories. The woman and I both said it sounded strange but we were thankful for our diagnosis, it had changed us for the better and it had changed the way we saw the world and those around us. The veteran then piped in and said “I don’t know what you ladies are talking about, I’m just plain pissed off.” We all laughed so hard! I still chuckle when I think of that old man’s reaction.
The sweet woman from that day gave me her contact info and I began to follow her on Instagram. I texted her a few days ago to see how she was doing and to chat about my upcoming surgery. When we met, she had completed chemo and radiation and was participating in a clinical trial. I’ve really been struggling with making a decision about reconstruction or no reconstruction and I wanted to reach out. It turns out, her cancer has returned and she is now considered stage 4. Folks, please pray for my sweet friend Melissa as she enters round two with breast cancer. As we texted back and forth she still has the most positive outlook. She said when she was first diagnosed one of her friends reacted by telling her congratulations, you have cancer! Now, to those of you who have never had cancer, this may seem odd. But I totally get it! Cancer forces you to prioritize, to open your eyes, to count your blessings and to laugh every chance you get. Basically, cancer sucks, but when you make it out the other side you’re no doubt a better person. I’m so grateful for this journey. I’m grateful my cancer is curable and I have the means to fight it. I’m also incredibly grateful for the amazing people I’ve met along the way. Keep fighting Melissa, we are praying for you!
Lucketts In Love 