The Diagnosis - Is it Breast Cancer?

Musical inspiration for this story:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Pze_mdbOK8 I look to you - Whitney Houston

 

The Diagnosis - Is it Breast Cancer?

By Stacey L. Bolin

She arrived at the Walter Reed National Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland, with ample time to spare to get her insurance error - possibly - corrected so that she would be able to keep her nine o'clock appointment with her internal medicine clinic. She rolled up to the gate guard and provided him with her military identification card without any conversation as he quickly tried to analyzed if her entrance onto the facility would be one as friend or foe. He waved her on to proceed while offering a simple smile of his eyes through his serious duties - if only the answers to her medical situation could be reviled in such a moment that was a just a wave of the hand and keen instincts.

Her fears intensified as she parked her truck and made her way into the medical center in route to the Tri-care office. It was always moments like these, the medical unknown, the her prayers to God to offer guidance would be all that consumed her waking thoughts and this day wasn't any different. "Please God, please let someone understand what is happening here," were the only words that she muttered as she walked the long corridors to the main lobby where the Tri-Care office was located.

She was met by a very personable representative that was quick to shadow any face of sorrow that had been worn on any person that walked into her office. When she realized the error that had transpired at the Naval Academy Tri-care office, she was completely appalled that people from the same company that she represented, would lack such compassion and would not take responsibility for the breakdown in communication. The representative handed her a clip board to fill out her military information, and said, "Don't worry dear, this is an easy fix and I do apologize for the lack of compassion our sister office offered you. These last two days must have been so stressful for you, but if it makes you feel any better, I believe you are going to be just fine - keep the faith." Suddenly she found a glimpse of inner peace upon hearing such a positive statement, and as she continued struggling to fight her fears filled with insurmountable emotion - her eyes began to well up as she broke into much needed soulful cry. "Sweetie, Relax, your paperwork is fine and your insurance is fully active. Don't stress over the unknown as it will only bring you down."

Her fears had somewhat dwindled, because of the representatives sincere words of encouragement, as she walked a bit taller on her way to the internal medicine clinic. The halls on the way there still felt long, dark, and distorted; while at the same time the smell of baking bread from the "Subway" in the building found a way to focus her thoughts on something that meant more to her than life itself - her family. Images of precious moments she had experience in her life danced within her mind - her wedding day, her babies being born, the moment when she first saw her love of a life time - if only she could turn back the hands of time and relive all the moments that were near and dear to her heart, once again. She knew that it was time to find her inner strength and determination she possessed, which was more like a second personality – a.k.a. her body guard - that would kick in when her first personality felt hurt, scared, threatened, and broken by life.

 

She arrived at the internal medicine clinic, checked in and let the waiting commence. Now the one thing about her, was that her love for research was never put aside for any reason or situation, but she also knew it was never a good thing to rely on the internet for medical advice, however in this situation, it was the only thing that gave her the hope that if it wasn’t breast cancer, than maybe it could be a cyst or a gland infection due the quickness of symptoms, the size of mass, and the pain that accompanied it. In a few short moments, time would tell the tale.

Her name was soon called by the vitals nurse and she made her way into the clinic.  Her blood pressure was 141/90, and her pulse was rapid – which had the nurse on instant alert. The nurse immediately took her to a basic examination room, and instructed her to disrobe from the waist up, put a gown on with the opening in the front, and to take a sit on the exam table as the nurse conducted a quick EKG test to rule out a heart problem. Then nurse closed the curtain and left the room to get the doctor. The room was bright and the smells were the same as any exam room, yet the urgency of the nurse to get her into a room, triggered a memory from more than nineteen years ago, when she was being examined for a lump in her collar bone, while eight months pregnant with her first son, that was revealed by numerous tests that she had Hodgkin’s Disease. Her breathing became rapid as the memories of her past let the fears of the current unknown take hold of her once again.

A knock on the door followed by a good morning, was the announcement in her thoughts that the moment was finally upon her. What was lurking just underneath her skin was about to be known. The doctor introduced himself, as this was not her normal assigned primary care physician, and asked some general health questions before his physical examination.  She explained in great detail when she first noticed the mass and the symptoms that soon followed upon her discovery. She admitted that she had also researched online the symptoms and that even thought it could be a malignant mass, it could also be a glad infection.

Now usually doctors never want to be told, what the diagnosis is, especially from a patient with no medical education what-so-ever, but this doctor was different. He was pleased to know that she had taken the time to learn more about her symptoms and that she also chose to see a medical professional and not just try to diagnosis and treat the symptoms with over the counter medicals and warm compresses. In his professional opinion he agreed with the idea that it felt like an infection, but with her long medical history and having a prior cancer and radiation and chemo therapies, he didn’t feel comfortable making any the decision to treat. He ask her to get dressed as he left the room to make a few phone calls and within minutes she was escorted upstairs to the breast care clinic for testing.

It was at this moment she began to fear the worst, even with the knowledge that the doctor she had just seen felt it was a possible infection; there was still a realm of uncertainty that loomed over her. She waited anxiously for her name to be called, as she tried to focus on the pages of a people magazine that had been left on a chair beside her.

The door to numerous testing centers opened and her name was called. She stood up and began walking with the male nurse that called her name, but she couldn’t feel her feet upon the floor, sounds went silent, and people around her became blurred that gave the appearance that she was walking in a tunnel that wrapped the most glorious feeling of warmth all around her. It was the same feeling she had experienced when a package had mysteriously arrived in her mailbox one February afternoon back in the late 1990’s, that had no return address or postage, yet the contents within provided all the information of a promise she had made to husband back in February of 1992, and was the reason her and her husband had taken their relationship from friends to soul mates.

With her being taken up to the breast clinic without a scheduled appointment, meant a wait longer than normal was to be expected. She took a deep breath and laid herself down on the exam table as the nurse stepped out to let the doctor know she had arrived.  When the doctor arrived, she was once again asked to disrobe from the waist up and the doctor immediately proceeded with a physical examination.

“Well Petty Officer, I have good news…I believe what you have here is a condition called Mondor’s Disease, but just to be on the safe side, I am going to have you go over to the breast care ultrasound clinic to rule out anything else.” The stresses and fears that once restrained her, lifted instantaneously as she followed the doctor to the ultrasound clinic. When they arrived, the doctor turned and shook her hand and said, “I know it is not breast cancer, however Mondor’s disease is very rare and should be watched closely, however I am confident that it will get better, but it will take some time. You should return in two weeks or sooner if the pain and swelling gets worse.”

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” She said with a smile of relief.

“You are welcome.” Replied the doctor and then she went on her way.

The Ultra sound indicated that there was significant swelling in the breast cord and that with Motrin and warm compresses, the pain and swelling would reduce over a two to three week period. It was a relief to hear such words as she left the building and made her way home. Her fears had retreated into the back room of her thoughts to plan for their next attempt to consumer her.  For now, she smiled and relished in the thought that she was givin another chance to live, love, and be happy to make many new memories with her boys, and her love of a life time - her husband.

God was with me once again.

To learn more about Mondor's Disease go to:

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2608091/

 

 

To learn more about the mysterious envelope that arrived in our mailbox in the book:

"Through the Barracks Window" available on Amazon.com

"A Soldier's Night Before Christmas"

 

 

Well hello my loyal readers, and to my newest readers. Hope my words find you with a smile on this fine Tuesday morning. Course for some of you, your time zone could be ahead of me or behind me, but welcome just the same. I wanted to share with you a quick story about an observation and why I feel that if we could all just hold within us, just an ounce of compassion, life could be ever so much easier. After what I saw yesterday, I realized that there are people in this world that need this true life lesson.

I had been sitting in a patient waiting area in the Walter Reed National Medical Center, waiting for my appointment in the Dental Clinic, watching people walking by as they make their way to and from the various clinics on the floor that I was on. I noticed that all of them wore the same look of frustration, stone cold, anger, and some even tried to wear a painted smile to conceal the sorrow that consumed the rest of their body. It was obvious that people were not happy, until I heard the sounds of little feet running. I saw a mother and her young son making their way to the same clinic check-in desk that I had just been standing at. I never noticed her husband that was with her until he rolled up to the counter in his motorized wheelchair. My thoughts paid no mind to his disability, but what did catch me was the dozens of people who walked by wearing a frown with the exception of his sweet son, who was probably no more than two, and his father’s face that wore a genuine smile. It was when he turned his chair around that I noticed that the jacket that he had to conceal his legs had slid off revealing the extreme redness of recent scares of his double amputation and the loss of two fingers on his right hand. My mind pondered what he may have had to endure that the end result was this extreme, until I heard him tell the staff member at the desk he had recently been in the ongoing war overseas. I felt a rush of tears making their way onto the surface of my face that was soon turned into a smile after what he did next. His wife worked with the staff to get appointments that did not go as smoothly as she had hoped, but hung in there as their son became restless and was working on a bit of a crying fit. Without hesitation, her husband lifted his son up and placed in him in his lap, and then took him for a quick spin around the hospital on our floor. Both dad and son smiled and laughed as their wheels made a unique rhythm on the tiled floor as they wooshed by.

Wow, here is a father, a dad, a Soldier who has fought for our freedom and has suffered the loss of his limbs, and yet without missing a beat, reaches out to his wife to help her by entertaining his son, with laughter and smiles, while other onlookers displayed their disgust that their wish for library silence, had been broken by their sounds of joy. For me, their laughter helped me realize that no matter what we all may have endured in our lives; we never know the stories of others and what life is like for them. I wish citizens out there that feel that being negative and mean is the way life would realize - IT'S NOT!  We can't let the sorrow take hold of us and bring us to such a low, that we can't bring ourselves up.  We must rise up and move forward with love and happiness in our hearts and be blessed that we are still alive no matter what the challenges we have faced or the ones that await us. Life is too short.

As these feelings rushed over within me, a song began to ring out in my mind and touched my heart as if it were cradled in the palm of my husband’s hand being held ever so gently. “A Soldier's Night before Christmas," This is my husband’s favorite Christmas Song and it was this year when I really learned why it means so much to him. After all that I have learned this year about my Seabee Veteran, I look up at the heavens and thank god that he and his unit came home after their time in the Gulf War from 90-91. Like the song, they too had been Soldiers that had missed Christmas, with friends and family because of their duties as a United States Soldier, yet even thought they are home, there is a part of their souls that has been taken from them and remains overseas. I have never come face to face with the destruction of war or have been on the front line, but with all of his unit members who have been willing to share their personal stories of war, I have a better understanding and a deep seeded respect and appreciation of what, my husband, the soldier in the military hospital yesterday, and our men and woman in our armed forces go through when they come from war. I am thankful that at this time, my husband may not be in a wheelchair, or needs walking aids, but he still deals with pain both physically and other times mentally of his time during the war. I will never know everything about this man I love, and what he went through, but what I do know - I love him with all that I am and here for him no matter what.

 

 

Merry Christmas Ron & Merry Christmas to our military members and the families that wait patiently for their loved ones safe return home and to those who have come home and are trying to put the pieces of their lives back together as their family lovingly waits. This song I dedicate to all of you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdEFaOoSBsw