Center of The Carousel

July 27, 2001

A day...to someone else just any day. For me, a year, almost to the day from the first glance of impossible possibilities. A sign that I was as susceptible as anyone else, that knowing Judy did not mean I would never experience what she had known years before she pushed me to get the first mammogram.

In time I settled into the regular routine after the first mammogram. I accepted that I would be saying goodbye to a friend, understanding that she pushed me so that I would not have to experience all she had. I watched. I paid attention and I kissed her goodbye on her last day. She was ready for the peace that was to be her's finally, otherwise I would not have left when I did...

I was very prepared for the 6 month follow-up with Judy's passing so fresh and on the surface. Somehow it seemed a reason for our friendship would be knowing how to handle the same situation if it should become mine and so I accepted that I would not waste knowledge that became mine at a very great cost.

A week after the mammogram, a form letter...

"No change. See you in 6 months. At that time we will get you back on a once a year schedule again..."

Life was good. I had passed the test and things were going to be worry free.

The date almost got by me for the "last" mammogram.

"Oh yes, by the way, I need to leave work early on Monday. Just a follow-up. Nothing to worry about.."

The equipment was familiar even though the tech was a new one. A young girl very intent in what she was doing and it was refreshing to see her take her job so seriously. I relaxed knowing there couldn't possibly be anything new to worry about.

The week passed. Friday... I thought to go upstairs to ask the doctor if she had heard then thought...no...if she had heard someone would have mentioned something.

After work…scooting around on errands...walking past the mailbox to order dinner out...walking past it again as I took a plate next door...thinking to check as I went in for the evening.

Ah ha. Finally. The letter from radiology. I opened it as I talked to one of the kids, glanced at it and saw the typed sentence just above the signature..."biopsy recommended". A quick look at the clock, 6:15, too late to call anyone.

Two days would have to pass before I could reach anyone for details so my mind ran a made for TV movie of various possibilities. There was no break in the pattern while I weighed every detail, including the possibility that the results could take my new home away from me. No one to talk to about it who would not have to be reassured. I didn't have it in me to tell everyone I would be ok, how could I say that when I had no idea...

I couldn't sleep the night before the biopsy, wanting answers then hoping for strength to hear them.

At work, taking deep breaths and wishing the time to pass. The call came that they could take me early of I could get there. Less time to think, yes, I went to my car....

The equipment was in the center of the room. It was portable and obvious that this was not a room designed around the equipment. Taking it all, I slipped into the open front johnny.

"Yes, just slip your arm out of the left sleeve and lay there. Let your breast fall into the hole you see and get comfortable because you will not be able to move your head while we are doing this..."

Feeling hands tug and pull, then a slight pressure securing my breast. People wandering in and out, introducing themselves and I wondered just what their place in this little street show was.

A thought...

If you have to stare at a point for as long as they want you to why not put a nice sunset or snow scene to focus on? No... a tacky calendar, hanging slightly to the left. A small mark, pen or pencil mark, to the right side and on the wall...

Voices out of view, talking about their kids, the weather and its like I am not here...

Instructions from the tech to the doctor and a slight pin prick. Pressure, and the reminder not to move my head…

"You'll hear a little pop"...

Yep... I heard that... and I did not move my head...

Shooting pain began and the reflex was to move from it. A soft speaking woman came to stand beside me, talking calmly near my ear as she laid her arm in a gentle pressure to keep me from sudden movement again. More pain as they added a little more of the numbing agent. Barely giving that time to kick in they went to work.

The doctor, talking happily about how he was going to be getting out early after all...

I wondered what was waiting for him. A golf game maybe?...and I didn't move my head..

The center of the carousel, the eye of the storm. Yes...that was where I found my peace and I didn't flinch again, knowing it would soon be done. Voices behind me discussing what they had removed and I told myself not to move so they would not remember that I laid listening as I stared at the lop-sided calendar.

Everyone around me began congratulating each other with a job well done.

"Yes, you can sit up now and here are your clothes..."

I sat up...

The nice woman from before came around from somewhere behind me and saw it first. The sweat pouring from me, my color draining. Reaction taking control where I had held it in check before, an icepack on my forehead as they laid me back down to settle into steady enough to leave.

Another woman, like myself, was waiting for my place on the table....

one to two more days to wait....