Bombarded with the news

The Brest surgeon informed me that the diagnosis was indeed breast cancer. I had, by God’s grace, already learned of this an hour prior to the appointment and had therefore been able to shed my tears and somewhat gather my strength before arriving. Immediately after informing me of my diagnosis she began bombarding me with the hard decisions that I would have to make:” Alright we have a lot to work on . Regarding the surgery, due to the size and grade of the tumor, you will need a mastectomy ,we will not be able to do lumpectomy. As to chemotherapy, not all women require chemo after a mastectomy but considering your young age and again the grade and size of the tumor, you will need to undergo chemotherapy as well. This is where your pregnancy comes into it as I don’t think that we can delay the therapy until after delivery. Therefore, you will need to have it while pregnant or undergo abortion. However, if you decide to terminate this pregnancy, I don’t know the chances of your conceiving again after the chemotherapy ”.

 In the midst of everything that she was saying, I saw my husband flinch when she spoke of the possibility that I may not be able to conceive again. Despite this, he managed to stay collected and calm. While I, on the other hand, could feel my heart sinking lower with each new piece of information and I could hear a cynical voice rising up inside of me and saying: ”So fast? Is this all the time that it takes for all of this to happen? So quickly? So soon?” I began to realize, more so with each passing second, that my old life was gone and that there was now a “new Noor” with a new life. Soon, her breast would be removed, her hair would fall out from the chemotherapy and she might lose her baby and maybe never have another…Perhaps she doesn’t have much longer to live.

 As if what she had already said wasn’t enough, the doctor continued saying:” Considering how young you are, we should think about genetic testing. If you do have the gene that causes breast cancer then we have to consider removing the other breast and maybe the ovaries as well.

With all due respect to the doctor, the last comment was neither necessary nor urgent to be mentioned  at that time. I already had enough to deal with,I have just known about big aggressive tumor that is changing and risking my entire being. Therefore, this was absolutely not the appropriate time to discuss the possible danger that may affect the second breast or the ovaries at some point in the distant future. It is not prudent, in some cases, to say all that is known straight away.

Regardless, I managed to remain composed throughout the entire dialogue, asking many questions and discussing the available options. At this point, the surgeon realized that she didn’t have all the information necessary to answer my questions. She told me that she would invite an  oncologist  who have ling experience with breast cancer to give me more accurate information.  She left the room to page him leaving us alone. As soon as she closed the door a dam that had been holding back a waterfall of tears burst open and I muttered:” thank you God”. My husband stood to embrace me as I kept on crying. Minutes passed this way, with my mind blank, it was all just too overwhelming to think about, I was merely trying to ease some of the pain in my heart. After a few moments, I looked towards my husband and found him steady and smiling. I told him not to hold back his tears, that it was his right to cry and that he needed to as well. He smiled and his eyes filled with tears as he said:” If we both cry then who will be left to comfort us”.

There was a knock on the door, so I dried my tears quickly and my husband returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened. The oncologist came into the room, head lowered and back bent with a look of great sorrow on his face, and I thought:” Poor man, does he have to take on this sad appearance before all of his patients?” I smiled at him and it was as if he felt that he no longer needed to pretend. He smiled back at me and said in broken Arabic:” How are you? My grandparents were from Lebanon but I only know a few words of Arabic”. He began discussing all the recommendations and treatments, addressing all of our questions, and providing all the missing information that we needed to make a decision. I felt as if I was talking about someone else, discussing the options rationally and asking the appropriate questions, until he finished speaking and left the room giving me another chance to cry.

 Afterwards, a nurse came in and handed me a huge book entitled “Breast Cancer” and told me that it would be an excellent reference for me. I looked at the book and read the title, realizing for the first time that this label was now mine and that it represented me. The nurse then told me that the hospital had a support group for breast cancer patients where I could meet other patients and that they also had a dedicated social worker if I needed to talk about my feelings. It was a kind gesture but it only served to make me feel, more and more, that my identity, my life and needs, had forever changed from this day forth.

 

 

 

"Make use of five before five: Make use of your youthfulness before you reach old age, make use of your health before you fall sick, make use of your wealth before you become a poor, make use of your time before you become busy and make use of your life before you die.”  prophet Mohammed PBUH