Diagnosis

Mary Rose has breast cancer. But not for long.

She was officially diagnosed on Thursday, January 24th, confirming the results of an ultrasound on the 21st and a biopsy on the 23rd. Invasive ductal carcinoma, stage 3.

She first felt something suspicious in her right breast back in March of 2007; not a lump, but more of firmness or thickening in the muscle. An examination and mammogram in the spring turned up nothing. “Go, enjoy life!” were her doctor’s exact words. But the feeling persisted and she was reluctant to simply ascribe it to age, hormones or life change. A mammogram in June and a physical in July revealed nothing, and soon we were caught up in all of the end of year events: back-to-school, wedding, birthday, holidays, etc. By January, what she was feeling seemed a bit more pronounced, and Mary Rose went in for another exam. Again, the results revealed nothing, but she was at last referred (non-urgently) to a specialist, Dr Marta Quijano at the Breast Center of Mercy Hospital here in Portland. Dr Quijano could see a minor distortion on the breast and ordered a mammogram which again showed nothing, so she then ordered the ultrasound. That ultrasound on January 21st showed a mass of at least 3cm. That was the day we first heard those words, those unbelievable words that upend your whole life: “They found something.”

Things moved quickly from that day forward. By that Friday Mary Rose was having surgery to examine the adjacent lymph nodes. The cancer had spread to the sentinel node, and we would later learn that it was found in 8 of 12 nodes removed at the time. The blood work and x-ray taken that day looked good, but the cancer had spread at least that far, and we were still facing that dreadful question, had it spread further?

The next two weeks were all about testing. PET scan, CT scan, bone scan, MRI, EKG, ultrasound. Searching and waiting, searching and waiting, and beginning to spread the news. Living with the fear of the worst case scenario, and yet, between procedures, living in a fairly normal manner; the mind ricocheting between the dreadful and the mundane.

On Monday, February 11th we met with the oncologist, Dr Anna Niegowska. Before she had even sat down she said, “I have good news.” All the test results were good. The cancer had not spread. The sense of relief we felt was something akin to a blessing.

So now we begin the journey of treatment and recovery. The road ahead is rough–chemo, surgery and radiation over about 6 months–but we are confident of the outcome. As we enter this new phase of our life we want to thank all of you who have kept us in your thoughts and prayers. They truly make a difference, and we are very grateful.