October Musings

October once brought crisp weather (which brought an excuse for new sweaters), homecoming games, and the promise of colorful leaves. My graduation from my school years and into adulthood killed my homecoming spirit and marked my migration to a place where the season change is negligible. But, while some of my childhood obsessions remain - the costumes and the candy have evolved into smaller costumes and spiked cider - other signs of fall have developed from more adult concerns. You see, the dawn of autumn also signals the beginning of October and of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Almost exactly a year ago, I was drinking on a (still very warm) day with some friends at the pool and I randomly felt a large lump in my left breast. I pointed it out to my friends who did not shrug it off as I had hoped they would, but rather urged me to see a doctor immediately. It turns out that when you call a doctor about such things, they clear a spot for you in their schedule pretty quickly.
This first doctor's appointment put many in motion. Each time, I visited a different specialist for a different procedure, but every time, one thing remained the same: they always assured me it would be nothing, but always ended up being something. After awhile, I stopped being comforted by anyone's assurances.
You see, I was 27 years old and have no family history of breast cancer - or any kind of cancer, really, at all - and so my risk factors were low. But after a visit to my regular doctor, a mammogram, a sonogram, and an appointment with a surgeon, I learned that I did, in fact, have a tumor.
And, so, approximately four weeks after casually finding the lump over cocktails, I went into surgery.
To be clear, I was fortunate: the tumor was completely benign and they don't expect anything similar to return. I am, however, still thinking about all of this for a couple of different reasons this October.
First, it's October. Awareness is the reason for the season - and I want everyone, even those who don't believe they are at risk, to be aware of the steps they should be taking to prevent what they can prevent.
Second, we are on the eve (four days from now) of our group's Light the Night walk for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. We are doing this for my friend Frank. When he was diagnosed with lymphoma, it was only a few months after my own surgery.
I will always think about how quickly it came on - how one day I found something weird and only four weeks later, someone was cutting me open. I will always think about how scary it was, sitting in a room full of women who were twice my age, some without hair, waiting to get a mammogram- and later watching a sonogram tech leave the room to find the doctor, to give me bad news. I remember that I couldn't even tell anyone what was going on, because the few times that I did, people reacted with such fear that it increased my own doubt.
And I was lucky.
One day, my friend Frank was making fun of me because I drank too much and did the worm at a drag show on my birthday, and then he had the flu... and then he was starting chemo. Now he is fighting for his life and the only thing I know how to do is try to raise as much money and show as much support as I can - to show Frank I care, to encourage him, and to help the other people that are in the same situation.
Cancer touches so many people, no matter what kind of cancer and no matter what month it is and no matter how old you are or how healthy you are. I urge everyone to do what they need to do to stay healthy and to contribute where they can to eradicate it altogether.
Love you FB.