“The Only Constant in Life Is Change.”- Heraclitus
As I write this blog post I am 3 years past the time I found the lump in my right breast. I look back on that time and I recall being overwhelmed with the devastation Covid had on my business, relishing in the undivided time I had with my family and not overly concerned because I had found lumps in my breast for years and was told they were simply fibrosis.
So, I carried on, moving from one task to another and holding myself together best I could for a naturally anxious, multitasking, whirling dervish in the throes of a pandemic. It would be several weeks before I even thought about that lump again.
By the time I had come to believe it was something more than simple fibrosis, Covid had decimated the medical field; getting an appointment anywhere was virtually impossible. First, I had to find a general practitioner to provide me with a physical which would afford me a referral. Once I secured the referral, there was a decent wait to sit for a mammogram – so I waited.
In March of 2021 I had my first mammogram in over 3 years, and it wasn’t a mere routine, it was prompted by a lump that had not gone away. So, when the technician said they wanted to do some further testing I could feel myself begin the stages of disassociation. I remember an ultrasound, where the nurse found something concerning around my lymph nodes, I remember a doctor coming in to verify the concern and order a biopsy, I remember getting dressed and driving home and I remember the sound of the ocean in my ears as I dropped to my bed for the escape of sleep.
I would stay in this state on and off for the next month while I waited for the results of the biopsy.
In April of 2021, while I was getting ready to leave for the spa, my phone rang and I answered it as I typically do, “Hi, this is Corie” – the woman on the other end of the line said, “Hi Corie, this is Shery from LabCorp, I have the results of your biopsy- do you have a minute to talk and do you have something you can take notes with”?
I still have that scrap of paper that I used to take the notes that would forever change my life. I kept it because I could see the illegible writing created by the uncontrollable shake of my hands and I never want to forget that feeling, I never want to lose that deep humility that comes with knowing how utterly impermanent we are.
Over the next month I will do my best to share my story, to unpack it and take a hard look at what so many others have and will soon endure. It breaks my heart to know that as I write this approximately 57 people have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Each year over 20,000 women will be diagnosed, and the numbers are rising.
Right now, the numbers are 1 in 8 women; approximately 13% will develop breast cancer. This, to me is a pretty low risk and if I were the girl of yesteryear I wouldn’t think twice about it, but I learned a lot over these past few years and I can tell you, that YOU, the reader may not (by the grace of God) get cancer – but you more than likely, will at some point, know someone who will.
Thank you for being here, for reading this far down and for holding space for some scary stuff. I look forward to exploring this new life with you and hopefully hearing your story as well, and I hope to see you on October 4th, 2023, as we come together for those impacted by breast cancer, those who seek to know more and those who simply want to find ways to be humanly supportive.
Love, Corie
