My boobs lead me here

I have written this post over and over in my head for weeks now. I knew it was important to share this journey but when you feel like you stopped in a world spinning around you it’s hard to begin. I will warn you there is a lot of boob talk but not in like a hot way. Here it goes…

On Friday, March 8, coincidently International Women’s Day, I went for a scheduled mammogram. A mammogram I scheduled because I had a known cyst in my left breast that was causing me a lot of discomfort and wanted to see what my options were for comfort and to make sure it was ok. Ladies if you have never had a mammogram just know this is your spoiler alert. You undress your upper half, put your belongings in a little cubby, put a designer style robe on (this made me laugh), grab your key to the little cubby and head out to be with your other female companions that you will be sitting with waiting for your lucky name to be called. I hate to ruin the fun details of mammograms if you haven’t had one. It would be unfair to ruin the anticipation any woman may have of getting their breast distorted in unnatural shapes and sizes that is more suiting for an UTZ Factory.  

I got a mammogram and had to get an ultrasound, which just meant more waiting. I didn’t care this wasn’t my first rodeo with boob day and anytime I get down time to read a magazine it’s a blessed day.   It’s funny when these moments in your life happen you remember ever detail when typically you can’t remember shit about shit. I was talking to the technician about a recent workshop that I taught and events around it that had happened and at the time I didn’t notice but when I think back I could see the look on her face. I am just talking a hole in her head, checking out the pretty picture of the butterfly on the wall, while she’s scanning my right breast… just another day in paradise. When I’m done I get dressed and wait for the radiologist to come in and tell me the results. I am pretty confident everything is fine. I am healthy now, I quit smoking years ago, I am a Yoga teacher, Reiki practitioner, really picky about the foods I eat and I am young. Plus my last mammogram was fine.

The radiologist comes in and says that my left breast with the cyst is fine, it’s small and not to worry. Whew what a relief! “However you have a big mass in your right breast” and proceeds to tell me “You got a lot of stuff going on in your boob.” I thought “Thanks!”, “That’s very helpful information.” She said a bunch of other shit that just sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher. I only heard “You have a big mass in your right breast.” I do remember the woman that did the ultrasound asking me “Did you not notice that big lump?” In my mind I am like “Ugh no Mrs. Fancy Scan I didn’t notice that big lump but thank you for making me feel like a total asshole.” They handed me this slip with a special check in a space that says “Yo shit is jacked up and you need a biopsy Asshole.” That’s what it said in my mind anyway. Here’s the messed up part…..it was Friday. I literally just found out I have something in my right breast and it was Friday. I have no information. Nothing to help reduce fear, anxiety or to walk me back off the emotional plank I was getting ready to dive off of.  

Splash. That’s the sound of me walking off the plank and the drowning of my own thoughts. “God, I have two children 13 and 8. Lily’s a teenage girl she needs me, and who is going to keep Easton sensitive? I can’t leave them. I don’t want to leave them.” “God we are close and I am not done spreading love and helping people feel good.”

This may seem dramatic to you but mortality is where the brain goes. I was a mess. At that moment of receiving that information it’s like I was paralyzed and the world kept turning. The crazy thing is someone I adore was recently diagnosed with colon cancer and I was preparing an essential oil kit for her after speaking to an Aromatherapist for appropriate oils. Not once did I even think I would be an option for cancer. I mean I don’t sit around and think about it. This whole thing was mind blowing. That Sunday I taught yoga and these were my peeps, people I taught for over a year. I shared with them what was going on, because I needed to release all this fear I had been carrying around, maybe in the hopes that it would make me feel better and I would want them to tell me. I made it all the way to Savasana, which is the resting part at the end of the practice and I started to cry hard. It was watching them in this peaceful, loving state. This was a reminder of the love I have for them and all of my students and the possibility of not being able to give that anymore. They poured their love out to me that day and they will never know how much I needed their hugs and kind words.

I got a call on that Monday following the mammogram from my primary physician, on her vacation, she said for me not to worry that it was not the typical traits of breast cancer. This was a relief but I couldn’t help to worry. However, when it was time for the biopsy I felt confident it was nothing like she said. The biopsy was a breeze and meditation came in handy. I got dressed and ready to go but had to go back because they found something else. “Mother Mary of Jesus.” It ended up being nothing but my God are you trying to give me a stroke. On my way out there was a woman in the waiting area with that same slip, with the same check in the same special box. My heart felt for her and I asked if she was ok and shared that I had that same check in the same shitty box. I know she was in shock and I let her know that the biopsy was a breeze and I would be praying for her. This interaction was so important. Women who get their mammograms there that get bad news find out the news all by themselves. No one is allowed with you in the back where the convo goes down, no support, no one to drive them home, just their own thoughts. Scary shit. Two days after the biopsy I got a call from the John Hopkins doctor telling me that it could be one of two things but it was not breast cancer but most likely I will need to get it surgically removed but needed to meet with a surgeon. This was a relief but confusing.   The next step was meet the surgeon.

I had a teacher friend go the appointment to meet the surgeon with me. FYI always take a teacher friend to important doctor appointments. They take the best notes and ask the best questions. If you don’t have a teacher friend I might let you borrow mine she’s amazing. The surgeon did confirm that it would needed to be removed.

Since then I have being dealing with the trauma of it all. I decided that this mass was because I was fat and I needed to lose weight. I started going to a local fitness place about a month ago to start doing more cardio. If I do cardio I won’t get masses. Notice the trauma yet. I do love the workouts and to be honest it’s been my therapy. The things that motivate us to get our asses moving. During the scheduling of my surgery I met with my primary physician and I told her that I started working out more like she was going to take that check out of the shitty box. She put her hand on mind, looked at me and said “This is not your fault.” Which broke my heart to hear. How did she know that? It was like she read my heart. It did feel like it was my fault and because I didn’t do enough I created this foreign mass living in my boob. I no longer feel youthful, attractive, strong or in control. I need to fix this.

I still cry a lot for no reason just out of the blue. I don’t have contact with my Mom so I have relied on mother figures for comfort but just enough that I don’t feel like I am a burden. This has also been hard because I have always yearned for that nurturing love that a Mother gives especially during times like these which is another wound for another time. It feels uncomfortable to talk about this stupid boob alien because I should feel ok right. It’s not cancer, so what’s my problem and I don’t want people to think I am dramatic. I have been angry, sad, cranky and short.

I quit teaching 5 of my yoga classes after being reminded how I was affecting them with all of this, which broke my heart a little bit more. I have felt lost and not even sure what I am feeling half the time. I try to convey what I think I am feeling but I feel ridiculous.

I don’t have breast cancer and cancer is no comparison. However, it has still been really difficult. The fact that I don’t have cancer makes me feel guilty for being a mess. I feel alone a lot but I do try and talk about it. I don’t talk about it for sympathy because that’s not who I am but I think it’s important to share. I have found I heal and learn through vulnerability. Also, if sharing it can help someone else not feel alone it’s important to share. Today during my fat loss that will make my mass disappear workout a fellow workout person shared that they had a mastectomy and it was a man. This was shocking and also a reminder of how amazing it is of who comes into your life in different parts of your journey. I got through the workout and sat in the car and cried. I cried for him and me. My yoga journey has been about peeling back layers of myself, learning more about myself, healing wounds, building confidence and loving myself and building an unbreakable bond with the Universe. I know this is just a part of the journey. I know the feelings and all the experiences centered around this part journey will become wisdom. Here’s my wisdom from this so far… don’t ever get a mammogram on a Friday, I am not invincible, I don’t have control over shit, my right boob gets on my nerves, I have no patience for this type of shit, I have some true blessings for people in my life, waterproof mascara is your friend, no makeup is even better, being grateful for today, the people that stand behind you at your worst and the people that actually read this whole entire blog post.

Love you,

Wendy