A DreamGirl is Born!
Where do I begin with my breast cancer story? Unfortunately there are too many breast cancer stories, and those stories are increasingly being told by younger women like me, I was diagnosed almost a year ago at 34.
First let me start by saying that I cannot believe I’m writing this; it is so hard to accept that I was bald and still have virtually no hair and, oh my gosh, I wear a wig ack! Or that I don’t have either of my breasts, that I did the chemo-radiation thing, oh and that I’ve been through menopause??? Or how strange it is that just two weeks before my diagnosis my friend Tom and I were talking about the loss of one of his 30 something year old friends to cancer and how crazy it was that all these young people were getting cancer, himself included. Don’t get me wrong, I am very much a realist and have always been with regards to my breast cancer, it is just so surreal. Before BC, (“BC” interesting because if you’re diagnosed with BC BC you may be AD after BC, get it? At the very least a heightened sense of one’s spirituality hopefully. Life takes on a different meaning but so does death when facing a killer disease.)
So before BC, specifically July16th 2004 to be exact (people never forget their diagnosis date) I moved to the DC area nine months earlier from Atlanta to open and manage a new retail store. Not just any retail store, but one that captured my love of fly fishing and passion for the outdoors. I was in financial services for as long as I can remember and when the time came to make a move I made a list of the things I enjoyed at the time which included fly fishing, wine, gardening, to name a few and decided to pursue a career in one of those areas. As it turned out I was a pretty good customer of my now employer and was hired as seasonal part time help making barely minimum wage and I LOVED IT!
Fast track 10 months later and I have my own store! Managing a successful new retail store required a tremendous amount of time and energy, I would walk nearly 8 miles a day on the sales floor my pedometer would report and would often times put in more than 60 hours a week, I was quite busy with little time for anything else. I loved my job, the customers were great, there was a genuine neighborhood feeling, from the customers who would bring in their dogs, to the other stores in the area, I really got to know and care for so many people through my community. Our sales continued to increase and we were making a name for ourselves.
Meanwhile, I met Scott, (ahhh insert hearts and smiley faces). He’s a former top aide to the House Republican leadership in Congress, now he is a lobbyist running his own firm and doing great things for his clients. Scott asked me out very casually several times and I was always too busy until one day we just happened to be talking on the phone and I mentioned that I needed to come downtown that evening. Scott suggested that I meet him for dinner which I finally did. I remember that evening so vividly, “this guy can’t stand me!” I thought to myself. Scott has a very witty sense of humor and is quite the serious type so when he told me I was obnoxious or, “this is where I make my exit” when I went to the ladies room, (I really thought he was not going to be there when I returned) I was not imagining another date.
Curiously enough though our friendship grew, we were so relaxed together, laughed at the same things, and had so many similar ideas, “just friends” though. That is up until we shared a baked Alaska at a downtown restaurant one evening. After dessert Scott dropped me off at home and as I was getting out of the car I looked at him and paused, I knew that I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t. Oh don’t fear that I was too timid, not me, for the next day I called Scott and told him straight out that I had wanted to kiss him the night before. It was really quite unexpected I suppose, though he maintains “I knew you wanted me”. We’ve been inseparable since.
With regards to my breast cancer, a big relationship “BY THE WAY” we were only dating five months when I was diagnosed.
I felt a lump in my right breast, I could move it under the skin and it was about the size of a grape. I thought that the lump was due to my monthly cycle so I decided to watch it. I was falling in love, running the store, started horseback riding lessons, things were great. About two months later on a Tuesday checking the lump and I was feeling my underarms, actually checking to see if I needed to shave and felt several of the glands were swollen, hmmm? These were new; the lumps were actually very large, I could see one of them in the mirror just above my bra under my arm. Off to the internet I went and what I found was not promising, believe it or not, I knew.
I stayed up the next two nights crying and afraid, the strangest thing is I knew it was cancer, how or why I cannot say for certain, but I knew. Most of what kept me up that Tuesday and Wednesday night repeating over and over in my mind was the question, “How am I going to tell my mother?” To this day, the pain and fear I feel for my mother through this whole ordeal is far greater than any I have had for myself.
My Mom lives in Florida and we’re very close and talk nearly every day. My mother’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at a very young age and ultimately passed away because of it. I was raised in a household with angst towards cancer that could nearly equal the wrath of God. My mother had suffered her greatest loss at it hands, how could she endure the possible same fate for her daughter.
First let me start by saying that I cannot believe I’m writing this; it is so hard to accept that I was bald and still have virtually no hair and, oh my gosh, I wear a wig ack! Or that I don’t have either of my breasts, that I did the chemo-radiation thing, oh and that I’ve been through menopause??? Or how strange it is that just two weeks before my diagnosis my friend Tom and I were talking about the loss of one of his 30 something year old friends to cancer and how crazy it was that all these young people were getting cancer, himself included. Don’t get me wrong, I am very much a realist and have always been with regards to my breast cancer, it is just so surreal. Before BC, (“BC” interesting because if you’re diagnosed with BC BC you may be AD after BC, get it? At the very least a heightened sense of one’s spirituality hopefully. Life takes on a different meaning but so does death when facing a killer disease.)
So before BC, specifically July16th 2004 to be exact (people never forget their diagnosis date) I moved to the DC area nine months earlier from Atlanta to open and manage a new retail store. Not just any retail store, but one that captured my love of fly fishing and passion for the outdoors. I was in financial services for as long as I can remember and when the time came to make a move I made a list of the things I enjoyed at the time which included fly fishing, wine, gardening, to name a few and decided to pursue a career in one of those areas. As it turned out I was a pretty good customer of my now employer and was hired as seasonal part time help making barely minimum wage and I LOVED IT!
Fast track 10 months later and I have my own store! Managing a successful new retail store required a tremendous amount of time and energy, I would walk nearly 8 miles a day on the sales floor my pedometer would report and would often times put in more than 60 hours a week, I was quite busy with little time for anything else. I loved my job, the customers were great, there was a genuine neighborhood feeling, from the customers who would bring in their dogs, to the other stores in the area, I really got to know and care for so many people through my community. Our sales continued to increase and we were making a name for ourselves.
Meanwhile, I met Scott, (ahhh insert hearts and smiley faces). He’s a former top aide to the House Republican leadership in Congress, now he is a lobbyist running his own firm and doing great things for his clients. Scott asked me out very casually several times and I was always too busy until one day we just happened to be talking on the phone and I mentioned that I needed to come downtown that evening. Scott suggested that I meet him for dinner which I finally did. I remember that evening so vividly, “this guy can’t stand me!” I thought to myself. Scott has a very witty sense of humor and is quite the serious type so when he told me I was obnoxious or, “this is where I make my exit” when I went to the ladies room, (I really thought he was not going to be there when I returned) I was not imagining another date.
Curiously enough though our friendship grew, we were so relaxed together, laughed at the same things, and had so many similar ideas, “just friends” though. That is up until we shared a baked Alaska at a downtown restaurant one evening. After dessert Scott dropped me off at home and as I was getting out of the car I looked at him and paused, I knew that I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t. Oh don’t fear that I was too timid, not me, for the next day I called Scott and told him straight out that I had wanted to kiss him the night before. It was really quite unexpected I suppose, though he maintains “I knew you wanted me”. We’ve been inseparable since.
With regards to my breast cancer, a big relationship “BY THE WAY” we were only dating five months when I was diagnosed.
I felt a lump in my right breast, I could move it under the skin and it was about the size of a grape. I thought that the lump was due to my monthly cycle so I decided to watch it. I was falling in love, running the store, started horseback riding lessons, things were great. About two months later on a Tuesday checking the lump and I was feeling my underarms, actually checking to see if I needed to shave and felt several of the glands were swollen, hmmm? These were new; the lumps were actually very large, I could see one of them in the mirror just above my bra under my arm. Off to the internet I went and what I found was not promising, believe it or not, I knew.
I stayed up the next two nights crying and afraid, the strangest thing is I knew it was cancer, how or why I cannot say for certain, but I knew. Most of what kept me up that Tuesday and Wednesday night repeating over and over in my mind was the question, “How am I going to tell my mother?” To this day, the pain and fear I feel for my mother through this whole ordeal is far greater than any I have had for myself.
My Mom lives in Florida and we’re very close and talk nearly every day. My mother’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at a very young age and ultimately passed away because of it. I was raised in a household with angst towards cancer that could nearly equal the wrath of God. My mother had suffered her greatest loss at it hands, how could she endure the possible same fate for her daughter.
posted by DreamGirl05 @ 8:12 AM
<< Home