Kind of ironic that it’s almost a year to date since the last time I’ve written.  And I should know and just be prepared that this time of year always come with additional anxiety, hope and the not so fun claustrophobia and legit out of my mind panic attacks I experience being inside of that tightly spaced breast MRI machine.

For some reason, this scan felt different, more emotional, more worrisome.  And for the first time, I literally wept like my son would have if he couldn’t find his lovie before bedtime – through the entire thing.  While I called on God’s presence and strength, I fell short of accepting it and leaning on it like I know I needed to then and most certainly do now.

Looking back a few days, I had thought that was a tough morning.

When the phone rang today during a three child screaming/trying to get out the door for school circus and the nurse asked me, “Is now a good time?” I really should have said no.  I should have said that what she was about to say was NOT good timing, that I was not in a state of mind or matter to tackle what she was about to throw down at me.

Then it came.  The anything other than “all good” chat that sounded a whole lot like Charlie Brown’s teacher back in the day.  I have this terrible habit of tuning things out when they are not good.  Didn’t help I had two sobbing children in addition to my own tears that wouldn’t stop.

The long in short is, they found a concerning area they call a non mass enhancement.  We are trying to find more information and statistics around this in general and for us BRCA gals.  What we do know is that about 20% of ladies with this finding end up with breast cancer, usually at a very early stage, however this does not account for the higher risk of BRCA2 mutations.  I will have to undergo a MRI guided biopsy right away on Tuesday and do my best to stay thinking about becoming part of the 80% that have to go through a lot of pain but end up with a positive outcome and a new piece of metal as a badge of honor.

I truly expected to be a whole lot stronger when that call came in, as I knew it was likely at any point prior to me having some major preventative surgeries.  I expected this to be easier to talk about but then again, given all of the recent events with one of my sons, that inner strength has been more than maxed out.  It’s yet another reminder to me and those at high risk to stay close to your screening appointments and take the proactive approach seriously and intentionally.

I’m hopeful and prayerful that all will be just fine, as I know there are many ladies that have had to undergo biopsies with such strength and positive outlook and all was good in the end.  Perhaps the biopsy report will mirror that of my tubes and bring a huge smile to my face being called Grossly Unremarkable as well.  You can call my girls whatever you want, just don’t tell me either of them have cancer in them, please.

To my family and friends, I’m sorry I didn’t call.  It would be far too hard for me to stutter out the words “Is now a good time?” and share something I cannot even say aloud just yet myself, nor am I ready to accept that this is happening.  Someday I’m hopeful our children will read these moments and be reminded of a tough patch in life that was overcome and a journey they themselves will never have to live through.

Hopeful to have you keep those results and outcomes in your prayers.

xox

Carey