The meeting with the surgeon went well. I will be scheduled for an MRI in the next two weeks, and a probable lumpectomy followed by radiation, some time after that. Then there will be breast reconstruction to repair the piece they have to take out, and hormone therapy to suppress estrogen and progesterone, which can feed a tumor's growth, for several years.
My doctor, who comes highly recommended, tells me that this kind of tumor is the most common kind in women who have no family history of the disease (which I do not) and has a 95% cure rate, barring unlikely surprises.
This can all change, of course, depending on any further discoveries, but the growth is small yet. She told me to relax, that I wasn't going to die of this thing. I hope she is right.
Life isn't fair, as I have always known, but, good grief! I have no relatives on either side of the family, back as far as my great grandmothers, who have had breast cancer. I nursed 7 babies -- and I drew the short straw. I'd swear if I didn't make a point of not putting bad language in print. And in my job I had the unenviable opportunity to learn a lot of pretty colorful language that I probably should never have heard. I've used a lot of it to myself and my hubby in the last week, when I wasn't indulging in sheer panic.
