Over the last month or so, too many of my friends have wondered if I have cancer now. Sometimes my own writing trips me up: I didn’t intend to leave anyone wondering.
The tests I had at Moffitt were thorough: I don’t have breast cancer in either breast, and I don’t have cancer that’s spread. So I don’t have cancer. If you were worried, I’d like to apologize.
To be fair to the factual side of me, breast cancer takes a long time to grow. It can be moving along, un-noticed and invisible, for 10-20 years before you’ll find out you’ve got it. With that little factoid in the back of my mind, I know I might have cancer growing somewhere, but so could you and all of our friends and family combined. So why even think about it? If it comes up, you (and I) will deal with it by doing what seems right at the time.
The experience I had earlier this year at Moffitt was what happens when a patient is given the wrong diagnosis and is left thinking she’s got a year or two left to live. It’s not a comfortable place to be. But don’t skim over the fact that the doctor was wrong. I didn’t have an aggressive and deadly form of breast cancer. I didn’t even have cancer. The “cancerous tumor” the doctor felt in my breast was really a sack of fluid that had collected after surgery I had in September of 2011. That’s all it was.
So…. I don’t have cancer, and I won’t ever have it again, unless it happens to show up. And then I’ll deal with it.