Praise to Mammograms

Some critics have addressed mammograms lately. We (I mean, we women) can all agree getting a mammogram is an unpleasant, oppressive, yet required experience. Some contest its necessity though; claiming mammograms would be uncertain, provide too many “false positive” and create unnecessary distress and concerns on healthy women.

The fact is, I prefer dealing with several “false positives” rather than missing one “true positive”. My mother and my best friend Beatrice, in France, both faced “true positive” and their early diagnosis allowed them to avoid chemo for an only-radiations treatment and more generally to be alive and cancer-free today.

I hope for the same luck, particularly in regard to the no-need-for-chemo route. 

I found out this week that I was also a “true positive”. The small nodule of pre-cancerous cells, detected in November at my yearly mammogram, was hiding a 1 centimeter large “invasive ductal carcinoma”. The whole thing was excised on December 31 then biopsied. The tumor was found. 

This morning, the surgeon was telling me, meditatively “This is a weird, unusual cancer”. I know too little about cancer to be informed of the difference between a weird one and, let’s say, a regular cancer. (Is there such a thing as regular cancer?) I am only aware I am stepping into a new territory. I was (still am) a chaplain, listening to patients. I will now occasionally switch to the patient side. And I will do my best to make it a learning experience - for instance, on overcoming fear and dealing with the unexpected.

The surgeon told me, as he referred me to an oncologist that I will meet tonight for the first time, “You are the driver in this process. We, the doctors, work for you. Don’t let anyone switch the roles.” I liked that.

And I like also that I am dealing today with a 1 centimeter tumor (one third of an inch) and not an angry multifaceted monster in, let’s say, 2015. 

Thanks to a mammogram.