Welcome to the Twilight Zone
You are about to enter another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!
One day, I was counting down .. just 4 more days until the last day of work before Christmas vacation, and the next day I am sitting in a doctor’s office waiting to get a Cancer diagnosis. “The Twilight Zone’ is about people — human beings involved in extraordinary circumstances, in strange problems of their own or fate’s making.” I don’t think anyone could argue with the comparison.
As I sat in the waiting room contemplating the next few minutes, the door opens and I hear “Mrs. Parker.” (And not how Bernie Mac said it in Friday either) I followed the nurse to her office, and before I could sit down I noticed that her eyes were welled with tears. I wondered why she was crying. I was the one with Cancer! Over the next few minutes, I’d learned that she was responsible for the text message I’d received earlier that day. I’d also learned that in her haste to schedule the last open appointment with an Oncologist before the holiday period, she’d neglected to deactivate my “Mychart” so that I wouldn’t be notified of the appt via text or email. She apologized profusely for the unfortunate occurrence. As I understood that she had very good intentions, I was quick to accept her apology. Listen, the diagnosis wasn’t gonna change if I held a grudge and it also makes for one hell of a story when I tell people how I found out that I had cancer.
During the appointment, I think I cried on and off every 2 minutes. I was diagnosed with Stage 1B Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The lump that I had discovered was actually a tumor estimated at 1.8cm and I was triple negative. Their early assessment was that I was nodal negative (meaning that cancer had not spread to the lymph nodes. This is key because this is how Breaat cancer is spread. This would need to be confirmed with data.) Yep, the girl with the itty bitties had breast cancer. At that moment, I didn’t really understand the severity of my diagnosis, but I did understand that I had caught it early. Over the next hour, I received visits by the full team, the Radiology Medical Director, who reviewed the mammogram and ultrasound, and had also conducted the biopsy; the Oncologist’s nurse who came in to advise me that the Oncologist was apologetic about how I received my diagnosis and he wanted to see me that day; the Breast Surgeon’s nurse who came in to tell me that they were looking for some time on her calendar early the following week; and my GYN who came down just to tell me how sorry she was. The Oncologist explained the pathology report which documented m diagnosis, and advised me on next steps. This is when I became aware of the severity. I had no emotions left to be afraid. I was cried out and numb. He went on to talk about genetic testing and the need for an MRI and confirmed my appointment with the breast surgeon for the following Monday. I was sent away with a “Cancer briefcase”, a tacky clear hard plastic mobile filing system that I would use to store all of my documents during my journey. I told them that there was no way that I was carrying that ugly thing anywhere. I was provided mobile phone numbers to access my medical team during and after office hours.
It was a lot. It was overwhelming. It was also every thing that I needed at that moment. In a time where it seems like everyone is affected by cancer, it’s easy to treat this crazy disease as a business, and its patients as numbers. It was a blessing to be treated as a person with real feelings by a compassionate medical team.
