The Itch

This blog is about my experience with breast cancer. It is not intended to give medical advice or proceed with the same as I did. It is to enlighten those who might be scared of getting a mammogram, MRI or visiting their doctor because they might have found something. As always consult with your doctor for options that are best for you! The blog will be featured in sections, so be sure to check in daily!


It was February 26, 2008, my husband and I went to see then Senator Barack Obama speak who was campaigning in Cleveland. We were pumped up, excited and ready to hear one of the best speakers in the universe. Senator Obama spoke of how his mother suffered with breast cancer and I sort of felt I could relate since I had other people in my family who had breast cancer and other types of cancer. When I was 20 I had a scare with my breast, it got infected because I was eating too much cheese I was told. This was 1989 of course and at that time, we did not have the knowledge we have today. So I went about my way, always doing monthly exams. Senator Obama used the word ‘hope’ in his speech, indicating that when we are faced with fears in life we can hold onto our faith and hope. After getting home from a great night, I went to get undressed, when I had an itch on my right breast. It was winter, no matter how much lotion you put on, your skin still itches. So I did what anyone else would do, I scratched it and there was something that was not there yesterday, that was not there an hour ago. I screamed! I cried I knew something was not right. My husband held me the entire night and promised to get me into see the doctor right away. That night I thought of every possible scenario, what if it’s something, what if it’s nothing. I was bound and determined to get answers. I remembered a conversation I had with a guy named Dennis, who I worked with at Higbee’s Department Store in cosmetics. I had lump on the side of my neck and was not sure if was a blood clot or tumor or what. He was suffering from Aids at a time when majority of people had no hope whatsoever and had to face the inevitable. He told me ‘to panic after I get the facts, until then don’t panic, trust me I have been there’. So I went with that and saw the doctor.

My husband having his connections got me in to see a doctor within 2 days. I saw a breast specialist, actually she was the top breast specialist at the Cleveland Clinic. She came in, she had flawless skin and long black hair. I knew I was in good hands, this doctor was the best, the Zen Master of Breasts. As she performed her examination I started to recite the lines in movie The Karate Kid ‘wax on wax off’. She moved her hands around and finally looked up and said ‘we need to do more tests I want you to a have a mammogram and MRI. I thought great they will probably find more wrong with me then what I came in here for initially! Sort of like when you take your car into to have the oil changed, they find $2,000.00 more wrong with the car.

Smashing ones boob between two pieces of plastic is every woman’s fantasy, that and having a PAP test. I stood there in my gorgeous hospital gown, while two radiology technicians advised her they were new at this and discussed their plans for the evening. Betty as we will call her, I don’t remember her exact name, but I do know she was more like a librarian then a medical professional and her side kick Martha as I have named her, was more like a biker chic who did shots of gin while smoking non-filtered cigarettes. As they took pictures while I inhaled and exhaled for 30 minutes, Betty pointed at something in the mammogram as Martha shook her head and mouthed the word ‘don’t do that’. Finally being released from plastic hell, Betty and Martha told me to wait for the doctor to come in. Sitting in the dark cold room, I went over every possibility of what this could be, I began to cry. The radiology doctor came, said we need to do a biopsy just to be sure it’s nothing. I cried more, she said thus far we are not sure of anything. She was very caring to this blubbering idiot. Never having a biopsy before I wondered what it entailed, would I be put out or would I be awake? Who would be in the room? How long after for the results? All I wanted to know NOW and now I mean this minute.

On the day of the biopsy I was of course nervous, because the last mammogram two people came into look at me, I wanted to ask for credentials but I figured they are the ones with the degrees.

I sat on the table in my gorgeous gown, talking to Nurse Betty about everything but the elephant in the room. Getting a biopsy done on your breast is a real hoot, sort of like a mechanic working on a car. You lay on your stomach, with your boob in a hole, dangling for everything to see. The table gets raised up and they work on you underneath, all the while your suppose to relax. That is exactly what I did, I thought of meadows, summer nights….uh not even close! I questioned everything they were doing, even when they were writing stuff down that had nothing to do with me. It was good thing I didn’t see what they stuck in me, I was not even shown afterwards or I would not have come back. It was disgusting as well, that suctioning of all the goop that was in the lump, or as the doctor described, ‘like toothpaste’. I wanted to throw up! I was given a number to call back and I will get the results then but I had to call after 3pm in three days. Those three days seemed like 10 days! Worked helped, dealing with people who are not of the right mind sometimes helps one feel better. My husband wanted to take me out to dinner to my mind off of things, so I went to get dressed, my boob was like an eggplant! I screamed! I cried I was scared so I ran to get the paper the radiologist gave me about the ‘if this happens after your biopsy’. I did not even look at it, so I called the number and spoke to a doctor not mine, he was nice yet firm and told me to calm down that it was normal. I thought for sure I’d be going to the hospital and they would have to amputate something.

Tomorrow: The Wait and more waiting....