Day 1:
I can’t claim to be a very timely person. I feel like there is a 15 minute grace period in almost all situations. My husband is now pulling the old “we need to be there at 5:00”, when we actually need to be there at 5:30. We’ve almost missed flights, boats, appointments and the surprise part of a surprise party because of my internal clock.
However, when my doctor told me to call him at 3:00 pm for my test results, you better believe not a second after 3:00 pm went by before I called. He was too good to record a voicemail greeting, so all I got was an automated monotone male telling me that no one was available to take my call. I decided to give him a little space and didn’t try calling again until 3:04. Then 3:07. Then 3:08. Somewhere between 3:11 and 3:16, my husband suggested that we get out of the house. He also recommended giving my trigger finger a rest and leaving my phone behind so I wouldn’t be tempted to leave the sound of my grinding teeth on his voicemail.
The day was beautiful and we walked our daughter over to a park that sits right above the beach. It was a needed break from my anxiety and the people watching was better than tv. It was one of those rare situations with no phones, no camera, no technology of any kind. It felt freeing until one of the worst/best things happened.
We had sat our little girl on the grass to pick through dirt and bugs. The next thing we know, she’s up on her two chubby feet and proceeds to walk for the very first time! She walked all the way over to a far more interesting section of the park, adorned with teenage girl’s iPhones, candy wrappers and probably cigarette butts. My husband and I sat stunned, watching our little girl cross such a big milestone. I inform him that I might as well not finish her baby book since I can’t document this momentous event. I’m really looking for any reason to get out of listing every present she received at her baby shower.
We returned home at 5:00 pm with enormous Cheshire grins on our faces and a baby girl who is quickly growing out of the baby stage. We each have 5 missed calls and a text asking us to call my doctor back. I sat down with a pad of paper and pen and quickly hit redial. He answered and in an easy, conversational tone, informed me that I have stage 2 breast cancer. He continued in this friendly manner, telling me that it’s the most common type, it’s not growing too quickly and my chances of survival are excellent. I remember asking questions and assuming a friendly demeanor also, as if we were discussing restaurant choices for dinner. After a lengthy conversation, we ended the call and I looked down at my pad of paper that was meant to hold all the information from our call. Instead, I doodled chains of bubbles and wrote my name in different scripts. I realized I was terrible at cursive and fantastic at 5th grader penmanship.
He had no concrete answers about the next steps in surgery and treatment. My next job was to find an oncologist that came recommended from doctors I trusted. I added “sincere” and “exudes good energy” to the list of necessary requirements. My sleep that night was surprisingly sound. There was nothing for my brain to try to work out. I knew I had cancer and I knew I would get through it. I knew I had a husband that would move mountains for me, as well as rub my feet on a daily basis. I knew that I had a kick-ass daughter. I drifted off with the memory of her wobbly first steps and felt a quiet peace come over me.
You are so amazing and strong. There is nothing that you can’t overcome and take the positive road on. Your a hero and a wonderful mother and friend. I send all my love and I am there if you or your family need anything.
Love.
Thank you thank you!! Knowing a fantastic babysitter is a few blocks away will come in handy :). I appreciate all the love and good energy you guys are sending!
I love this blog already. I’m so glad you’re commenting on how ridiculous doctors act. Throughout our own cancer journey, we had to deal with a lot of incompetent, mediocre doctors. You’d think there would be a required class called “Giving a Sh!$t 101”. A good example is when during our recent birth, one of our doctors tried to pressure us to induce by saying, “Nature kills babies too.” Seriously? That woman has the bedside manner of a pillow case filled with doorknobs.
I believe in you, and I know you’ll be fine. It’s not going to be a fun battle, but you’ve got all the ammunition you need: A wonderful family, solid friends, and the right state of mind. let us know if you need ANYTHING!
I’m definitely ahead of the game with everyone in my corner! Like you, I’m learning to take what the doctors say with a grain of salt and do my own research! Thanks for sending good energy 🙂
Also, I’d love to hear a little bit about what the doctors said about doing Chemo while pregnant. I think that’s enough for a couple posts in itself.
Oh, just wait! I’ve got some crazy research!! I will be filling everyone in on the strangeness of pumping poison into my system while growing a baby! Stay tuned 🙂
You and Andrew are in my thoughts and prayers. One of my greatest friends is battling leukemia right now…diagnosed only 2 weeks ago. I love that you include a positive attitude as part of your recovery. People don’t realize how much that can affect health. 🙂 I know I’m very far away, but just know that positive vibes are heading your way from Florida!
Deb
Those sunny Florida vibes will definitely come in handy! I will also send some sunny California vibes to your friend and am glad they have you close by to help out. Keep the good energy coming!
Amazing blog my sweet friend. I’m so glad you’ve decided to write about this. Pretty cool that you’ll be able to add a very studly Cancer Survivor to your already impressive resume of Super Woman, Super Mom, Creative, Artistic, Beautiful, Powerful Light of All of Our Lives. We’re sending truck loads of love and strength up PCH from San Clemente to Laguna. Deliveries will be made daily.
I guess you could say I’m an over-achiever when you look at that list of accomplishments 🙂 Thank you for all that love! I will definitely be using it through this process! Maybe we can arrange for the love truck to bring you up PCH sometime soon for a visit 🙂
Thinking of you and your family Brita! This blog is a wonderful way for you to organize your thoughts. Your positive attitude is wonderful:)
Thank you! It’s a great outlet for me and seems to do everyone else a bit of good to keep up on the craziness of my life!
Life just didn’t seem to think your journey would be complete without an epic battle where you b*tchslap nun-chuck loogie the Big Bad Boobie Boo Boo, while nourishing and creating life, and emerge (said in booming announcer voice) “Baby Baking Brita the Badass Komoto Dragon Whisperer”. Your sequel following finds you head of a corporate mega empire started with your newly found powers and strengths enslaving dancing penguins into sweatshops, where they spend their days sewing and welding rapid eco-damaging products in excruciating heat made from the ripped wings of cherubs while you laugh and stroke your beard at tupperware and nuclear arms parties from your evil space lair surrounded by gangster wrappers and Richard Marx. What happened to you?
We got your back, even on the other side of the world where local people sometimes smell of halitosis, dandruff, and mold and foreigners of fake alcohol, guilt and abandoned hope. Your dream mate and I thinking of you everyday and honored to be part of your life. By the way, Chinese breast milk is sweet because its enhanced w/ lead. Kids like it more!
You are the best therapy a gal with big bad boobie boo boo cancer could ever have! I’ll suppress my desire to stroke my beard but the rest is pretty right on! I love you dearly and can’t thank you enough for all your fantastically hilarious love!