Where to Begin - Part 1

I have contemplated for some time whether or not to share this story publicly because it is so personal and still very raw. However, nothing in my life has ever been very private. From my job on Kiss 108 to my column in the local newspaper, my personal life is pretty much an open book. Few topics are off the record, so I decided that this time should be no different. This will be about as open as it gets for me.

I will share with you the events of the past weeks, which, short of losing my youngest daughter in a department store for several minutes when she was 2, were the most terrifying of my life.

It's hard to know where to begin, so I'll just start. I’ve always been afraid of getting breast cancer. There has been a fairly significant history in my family - both grandmothers, my aunt, my first cousin - surely enough reason to be a little neurotic about my mammograms. Okay, a lot neurotic; I’ve had the ammonia pads swiped under my nose during a routine exam - that kind of neurotic.

This particular mammogram, during the first week of January, was not unlike previous ones. Even the call back was not a surprise, as I've been called back for additional images before. In the past, however, once those additional images are taken, the technician has come back in the room and 'cleared' me for another year.

Not this time.

I knew I was in trouble when the technician returned with a small box of tissue and told me the radiologist wanted to speak with me. This couldn't be good. I didn't suspect he'd be coming in to tell me how healthy my breast tissue looked. As the panic came over me, the doctor came in and began his speech, only some of which I remember because I began to glaze over as I realized what was happening. Was this the moment I had been fearing for so long?

The radiologist basically told me I had a cluster of calcifications that were very "worrisome." Going forward I will always despise that word. Worrisome like how? Worrisome like gee, those are a little weird, but carry on with your life. Or worrisome like you have cancer and might not see your children grow up?

The bottom line was that I needed to consult with a breast surgeon and get a biopsy. And I had to wait a few days before the procedure could be scheduled and performed. Those were the longest, most agonizing days. I think fear of the unknown is the worst kind of fear there is.

So the biopsy, removing the entire cluster of cells, under general anesthesia, was scheduled for January 15th. The surgery went as planned. The odds were in my favor - about an 80% chance of benign findings. But I had a long weekend to contend with so there would be several days before I would get my answer.

Stay tuned for Part II - Taking 'the call'