The Call: How It Began

A year ago today, I received a call while I was driving. The person on the other line could hear the background noise of cars moving and told me she would wait until I was parked to talk.  Right then, I knew something was wrong.

---

Me looking out over the Seattle waterfront, just hours before receiving the phone call that changed everything.

A month before, I had gone in for my annual mammogram, which was followed by an ultrasound and a biopsy of my right breast. To be honest, I hadn’t thought much of it because two years prior, I had gone through a similar biopsy on my left breast and everything had been fine. I expected this to be just another routine hurdle.

Instead, it was a 19-minute phone conversation that changed everything. 

The person on the line explained my imaging and said I had a “lesion”.  I didn’t understand what that meant and thought it was like an abrasion or cut.  So you could imagine my confusion as she continued to talk.  It wasn’t until she used the word “cancer” and scheduled me with an oncologist towards the end of our conversation that it started making some sense. But even then, I wasn’t certain because so much of our time spent on the phone was her speaking “cancerese”.  I was further confused because the words I typically associated with cancer, like “tumor” and “malignant,” were not mentioned. The missing language only brought a quiet fog without the clarity to be absolutely sure. 

The timing added another layer of difficulty. This news came just one day before a planned family vacation to Seattle and an Alaska cruise.

I will never forget sitting at a table outside of a Starbucks on the Seattle Waterfront with my husband. We were huddled over the phone, having a long-distance consultation with an oncologist to finally discuss the results of my pathology since I couldn’t come in for an in-person visit. Sitting there by the water, she explained my options: a lumpectomy versus a mastectomy, with the option for reconstruction.

The sketch my oncologist drew at my first in-person appointment to finally help me map out the words. 

We often talk about journeys as if they have clear starting lines, but mine began in a parked car and a seat by the Seattle shore, learning how to breathe through the unknown.

Blessings, Michelle