Think Pink

One beautiful, August Saturday, my dear friend and sister-in-law, Lauren, was getting married to the strapping young man of her dreams, Josh. We had all spent months planning and dreaming about this beautiful celebration of love and patience on the Lord's perfect timing and provision of a spouse. The day had gone off without a hitch - Lauren was stunning, Josh was nervous, and the church was decorated to the nines. It was a day that would go down in history.

Just 30 short minutes before the two were to become one, I decided to forgo the stark white strapless bra that stuck out of the top of my black strapless dress. As I was taking it off, I glanced down at my meager bosom to see a small, rounded bump just below the skin on my left breast. Immediately, I ran my fingers over the bump, all the while thinking, "Hmm? I've never noticed that before." This little guy felt hard, but movable, so I didn't worry too terribly about his presence. Quickly, I said to my onlooking husband, "Brian, I have a lump." Together, we reassured ourselves that this couldn't be a big deal - I'm only 25. Young women have lumpy breasts. Ladies my age have benign bumps removed all the time. I continued to rub my hand over the raised mound throughout the day and into the next.

"You need to let your doctor look at that," my husband guided. "I'm sure you're right, and it's absolutely nothing. But, just to be on the safe side..." I took his advice, and that of my sister, and I called my doctor on Monday morning. Still, I little concern about this occurence. After all, I'm 25. 25-year-olds don't have breast cancer.

I waited the four long days to see my doctor who curiously felt the lump and commented, "Yes, there is definitely something there. It's movable. My guess is that it is a fibroadenoma, but I would like to send you for an ultrasound just to be on the safe side."

Again, I waited in anticipation of the next appointment. All the while, I was thinking, "C'mon you guys. I'm so young. This can't be anything."

Finally, the time came for the ultrasound. I stripped off my top and my bra, and put on a scratchy white robe, and I sat in a waiting room with women my grandmother's age. My loving husband and concerned sister had accompanied me to this event, so I was not alone.

At last, the doctor called me in. I noticed that he quickly hung on one section of my breast. He drew my attention to the lump, and commented, "95% chance this is absolutely nothing but a fibroadenoma. But, there is this one little margin that seems to be a bit ambiguous. Most benign masses are perfectly precise on the edges, and this one has just a small section that seems a little jagged. Nothing to worry about, though. I feel certain this is a fibroadenoma. But, just to be on the safe side... I would like to see you back for a needle core biopsy."

By this time, I was really thinking, "Biopsy? Seriously? Did you forget that I'm 25? 25-year-olds don't have breast cancer."

Again, I visited the breast center. I laid on the table. They numbed my breast. And, in went the longest needle I've ever seen. "Oh good," the doctor commented. "The texture is sticky. That is a characteristic of a fibroadenoma. I'll call you with the results tomorrow, but don't worry. I'm just sure that this is nothing." Off I went on my merry little way. At last, I could rest easy.

I reported to school the next morning, no worries. No problem. RRRIINNG! My cell phone caught me off guard. I thought the doctor was going to call in the afernoon, and it was only 11:30.

"Mrs. XOXO?" I heard a man's voice say.

"Yes, this is Mrs. XOXO."

"I'm so sorry, but it is malignant. You have grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma. Breast cancer. I'm in shock. My whole practice is in shock. We were just sure that this was a fibroadenoma. I knew there was a chance, but I just didn't think that this was going to be the case. Are you okay?" he stopped and asked.

"I'm fine. What do I need to do?" my body felt like it had survived a blizzard. I was numb. Immediately nauseous.

"You need to call a surgeon today. This is a very aggressive tumor, and you need to get it out quickly. Then, you need to come in for a mammogram so that we can check your breasts with another form of screening."

That's the moment when my life forever changed. I went from a person who was aware of breast cancer research to a person who needed breast cancer research.

Please, if you're able. Support the cause. You just never know how your help may come back to save your life.

And, be an advocate for your health. You are NEVER to young to start screenings. And, if you are young, insist on an ultrasound. If I'd left my cancer detection up to a mammogram, it would've shown that I was cancer free. They're just not reliable for young women.

Let's beat this!

Making Lemonade

You know that old adage, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade"? That has been the soundtrack of our lives for about the past month. Brian and I have been trying our hands at our own lemonade-making skills. We feel as if we reside in a lemon grove these days.

On August 23, we were about to leave our house to meet my family for dinner, when a big storm blew through our neck of the woods. All of a sudden, the lights brightened and popped, and we realized that something was amiss. Upon further investigation, we determined that a tree had fallen on the power lines going from our house to the main transformer, thus causing a power surge. Hours later, the electricity company shut off the power to the home. The fire department closed the street and would not let us return to our home until the electricity was shut off at the main line. Unfortuantely, this occured at a less than convenient hour (3:00AM), so Brian and I loaded our three dogs and ourselves into our Tahoe and headed for my sister-in-law's house to stay the night. "No big deal," we reassured ourselves, "We'll be back tomorrow." Little did we know that the water heater had burst and caused a flood reminiscent of Noah's. The floors were soaked and soured - not a great combination. To make a saga but a short tale, I'll just say that we're back home after 3 weeks and 3 days as evacuees. We now have new floors in every room, closet, and hamper; a new hot water heater; new toilets; a new refrigerator; and new wiring.


Well, we spent a few weeks indulging ourselves because of our inconvenient homelessness, but then the real lemons came. On September 4th, I received a life-altering phone call - "I'm sorry, Lindsey, but you have grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma - breast cancer." That's right. Me, at 25, a newlywed of 3 months, a perfectly content wife to Brian and dog mom to our brood - me, I have cancer. Not the lady I know from work, or the woman I know from church, or my grandma. Nope, this time it's me. Sure, there were a few days of utter shock and panic, but I boast only in my Jesus, because He has given me peace in the storm.

In the Bible in the book of James it says, "Consider it pure joys, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds." Brian and I are making the conscience choice each day to consider our situation pure joy. This doesn't mean that we never have low points or that we're in utter bliss all of the time, but we do trust God. We lay this struggle at His feet, and say, "Use us. Make our worry your glory. Let others see your faithfulness in us, so that they might now you and trust you." For we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good, and we WILL rejoice and be glad in each day.

So, from now on, I will be posting as much as I can. I've certainly been out of the loop because of the homeless situation, and now I've been inundated with doctor's appointments, tests, screenings, and just getting my life in order. I'm having a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction this coming Tuesday (Sept. 30th) and then I'll start chemotherapy 3-4 weeks following surgery. God is good, all the time, and we trust him to see us through this storm.

Bless you, and I covet your prayers.