My Diagnosis

Throughout my thirties my mother drilled it into my head to get a mammogram and I would tell her they don't do it until you are 40 unless you have a history. I guess something about that stuck with me. In September I found a new primary care Dr. who told me to get a baseline mammogram. I had heard that Doctors are now saying 45 or 50, when I asked her about this she said let's get the baseline. On October 26th I had my mammogram, at the time they told me not to be alarmed if they ask me to come in for extra images. 

So when I got the call to come back in for more imaging I thought nothing of it. In fact I scheduled my follow up while I was on vacation in Iceland and set the follow up day for early on November 8th. Of course at the time I had no idea that November 8, 2016 would go down in infamy as one of the worst days ever. Broken hearted from the loss of Hillary and scared about a Trump presidency I walked in for extra imaging unaware my life was about to change. After the images the Dr. took me for an ultrasound, until then I wasn't worried. As I lay on the table he said " that's a cyst, I'm not worried about that. This area over here I AM concerned about. You need to have a biopsy and you should schedule it soon for peace of mind. That Friday I was laying on another table having a biopsy.

Turns out a biopsy is a bit of a painful procedure particularly when what they are looking to biopsy is deep in your tissue. This Dr. said after the biopsy that the other Dr. was right to be worried and that most likely it would be "something" but we would wait until Wednesday for the results. The nurse recommended a great surgeon so that I was prepared if it was "something".

After a long 5 days of all the "waht ifs", on November 16, 2016 I received the official call that changed my life. I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. And I was off to see the Breast Surgeon the next day.