Six months ago today, I had my core biopsy. The procedure was painful and terrifying. I remember shaking uncontrollably on the table while I stared at the ceiling and cried. After the biopsy, I was taken to a room to talk with a nurse counselor. The nurse told me that the radiologist was very concerned and was almost certain I had breast cancer. She made a point of telling me the radiologist had 16 years of experience and had never been wrong. I knew I was fucked. Of course, I knew I was fucked when they scheduled the biopsy after looking at my mammogram. Honestly, I knew I was fucked when I saw the inverted nipple and felt the giant lump in my left breast, but nobody wanted to hear it, so I kept it to myself.
I remember crying in her office when she told me what treatment would likely entail. I sobbed hysterically when she told me I would need chemo and would lose all of my hair. I remember the look on Rosa’s face when I walked back into the waiting room. I remember taking Jackson out to trick-or-treat that night and being in a great deal of pain. I remember thinking it might be the last time I got to do it.
That day fucking sucked. It was one of the worst days of my life.
I can’t believe it was six months ago. It feels like yesterday.