Last week I experienced one of the most alarming days of my life. I received a call from my Mom asking if I’d mind attending a follow-up appointment with her doctor. She had a mammogram the week before and they wanted to retake some pictures. This was a cause of concern because my Mom is a breast cancer survivor. She was diagnosed 8 years ago, fought hard, and went into remission. When she called of course I said yes. I don’t get upset or emotional when there’s nothing to be upset about. This was merely a rescan. I assured her that it was probably nothing.
As we drove onto Base I thought about all the trips my Mom had made to this very hospital. All the visits to the Emergency Room with my me, or my Brother, or my Sister. It’s the hospital where I was born. It’s the hospital where my Mom underwent a lumpectomy, radiation, and chemotherapy. I waited while they performed the mammogram. When I went back into the room my Mom was visibly upset. They were fairly certain they saw something. They needed more pictures. I continued to tell her that everything would be just fine. “Let’s wait until we hear something conclusive.” After she had the final round of scans we sat there side by side. My Mom ran through possible treatment scenarios. She was deciding how aggressive she would be with the treatment. She also began thinking about the possibility that this could be more than breast cancer. I continued to tell to her to relax and not think worse case scenario. We had no answers. We had no idea what we were dealing with. I still sat there, emotionless, telling her I really didn’t think there was anything to worry about.
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