Transcript
Page 1: "Mashed, Poked, and Prodded" (essay)

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Faye McClellan

English 101

Professor Bolton

January 26, 2012

Mashed, Poked and Prodded

Has it only been two months? Wow, I guess it has been! Our most recent trip to

Disney World seems like so long ago now.

Just a week after getting home, I was at the Doctor’s office being told I needed a

mammogram. I went, as ordered, within the week. The nurse asked me about family

history of breast cancer. I told her there hadn’t been any so

she assured me, “It’s nothing to worry about then, I’m sure.

Besides, you’re only thirty.”

She set me upon the mammogram machine, putting

the area where the lump was found between two cold, flat

pieces. After half an hour of agonizing squashing,

squeezing and mashing, I was finished and on my way.

I received a call on my cell phone before I made it home. The nurse on the other end

was Ashley, a friend of mine. “We have set up an appointment for you to see Dr. Brackett

on Thursday,” she told me, referring to a Breast Specialist in town. Once the color

returned to my face, I softly replied, “Thursday? That’s the day after tomorrow. That

can’t be good, can it?”

She tried to be reassuring and hopeful “Everything will be fine. I’m glad that you

came by the office. At least it was detected early so it can be treated now. Listen, I’ll call

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and check on you after I get off work.”

Why was everyone telling me it would be fine? It didn’t feel fine.Of course they

felt fine with the situation. It wasn’t their breast that a lump was found in.

Two nights of sleeplessness came and went. Thursday, at his office, Dr.

Brackettwalked in with his nurse, Sabrina,and a portable ultrasound machine. After a

warm and friendly introduction, he gave me the news that I had feared most “From what I

can see on your mammogram, it looks like you have breast cancer. I’ll do a needle biopsy

today using the ultrasound wand to guide me. We’ll send the tissue to the lab to be

analyzed and in a few days we should know if it’s benign or malignant.”

He proceeded to explain the stage, location and type,

but I was in such shock, I did not hear much. It was getting

harder to breathe. The room felt as though it was getting

darker and spinning out of control. I was trying to mentally

process what he had said. It could not be true! He couldn’t

tell that from just a picture, could he? Well, the biopsy results

would let us know for certain, I assured myself.

Sabrina walked me out to the front desk and handed me some informational

packets. “Feel free to call me if you have any questions.”Her eyes were sympathetic as

she handed me a card with her information. “My personal number is here as well if you just

want to talk about it with anyone.” With that gesture, I knew that even though they see

patients every day, they weren’t callused to the devastation of the disease.

How would I tell the kids? IGoogled some more information on the internet.

When I was certain that I could hold back the tears, I sat the kids down and let them know

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what the doctors had discovered. “My odds of beating this and getting well are better now

than ever before. Cancer is no longer a death sentence like it was many years ago,” I told

them as we gathered in the living room. After a few questions, they seemed to handle it

okay, considering.

Dr. Brackett told me it was malignant that Monday. He then scheduled me an

appointment to meet the Radiologist and the Oncologist. He sent me to have blood work,

X-Rays, MUGA Scan, Bone Scan, MRI and CT scans done as well. Most of those scans

were done in the same day. From laying face up for the CT and bone scans, face down for

the MRI and standing up for the X-Rays, I was shaking on the outside as much as I was on

the inside.

Upon meeting with Dr. Goodin, the oncologist, I learned about the chemotherapy

medicines that would be used to treat me as well as how much and how often. “These will

be given intravenously every other week. You will be given

Cytoxan and Adriamycin for the first four cycles and Taxol

for the last four. Each time you will be given a steroid to

reduce the inflammation, someZofran to help with nausea

and some Pepcid to help coat your stomach. The day after

each treatment, you need to come in for a Nuelasta shot. It is

given by a small needle injection in your abdominal area and is used to boost your immune

system. Here are some papers with more information and the possible side effects,” he

said as he handed me a stack of intimidating papers.

Now, here I find myself, at the medical building, sitting in one of many brown

recliners, staring at the wall of glass and listening to the pump machine that my IV is

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hooked up to make a loud beeping noise because the first bag of medicine is empty.

“Pamela,” I call to the nurse attending me today,“I think it’s time for the rest of my

cocktail,” referring to the mixture of chemotherapy medicines I can already feel coursing

through my veins. It’s still nothing I am used to, even though it is my third infusion, but

it’s amazing what becomes routine. I lay back and close my eyes again, as I hear the echo

of her shoes on the tile, hurrying my way. I think to myself as I try to drift back off to

sleep, “Only a few more months of this toxic therapy, then surgery, followed by a few

weeks of radiation and I’ll be finished. Life will be back to normal again…..Right? My

hair will grow back, my skin will get its color once more and food will taste good again.”

For the moment, though, I’m too tired, always too tired, to think on anything but the here

and now.

I just let my body relax and my mind wander as I dream of a happier time, a time

just two months ago, when we were all at Disney World.


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