The all important mammogram that didn't do a bit of good

After I found out that my grandmother had actually died of Breast cancer and not pneumonia, and that her sister had also died of breast cancer, and that my dad's uncle had also had breast cancer, I got a little concerned. I knew enough about genetics, even at 16 years old, to know that there could be a connection. After all, I am one of the few women in the world that is color-blind. My dad is a carrier and my mom is also a carrier. My older brother is color blind and so am I. Could my dad also be a carrier of breast cancer?

When I was 16, I got a job doing filing at a doctor's office. It was part of a big complex with doctors of many specialties. One day the office down the hall got a mammogram machine. Their technicians needed practice so, everyone in our office went down and got a mammogram. That was really painful, but they all came back clear.

I was not really excited about getting another one because it was so painful, but I knew what was recommended. So as I started getting close to 40 I asked for another one. It was just as painful as I remembered. Following the mammogram I received a card in the mail stating, "your recent mammogram shows that you do not have cancer". Well that was that.

Unfortunately that wasn't that. My husband noticed a lump. I actually always had lumps. When I did that monthly check, I usually felt marbles. They came and went. There were several theories - they were cysts, they were hormonal, they were caused by caffeine - but they still came and went. One day my husband noticed one that didn't seem to go. I knew I had just had a mammogram, so I called and requested an appointment with the breast care center.

At my appointment, the nurse practitioner asked why I hadn't come in after my mammogram. I didn't understand. She said that the mammogram showed some things that should have been looked at. I still didn't understand. She pulled up the report and showed it to me. Sure enough, it said that there were irregularities that should be checked by my doctor. She ended up referring my to a surgeon who did a lumpectomy. The lumpectomy came back benign, but the nurse practitioner had me come back every 6 months after that.

So now I was on the six month plan. At my next appointment, I mentioned to the NP that I have a strong family history of breast cancer. She asked if my mother, or any sisters or aunts had been diagnosed with it. Well.... no, but I don't have any sisters and neither does my dad, on whose side the cancer was prevalent. She said that only 10% of breast cancers were genetically linked and I probably didn't have to worry about that. Still I went in every six months and she drained my cysts and checked on things with an ultrasound.

Finally, after five more years she said it was time to get another mammogram. I protested saying that the mammogram never showed anything and even if it did, I would just get a card in the mail saying everything was fine. I didn't see the point of going through the pain. She told me to take Advil ahead of time and called and made the appointment for me. Begrudgingly, I went. And it hurt. And the report came back negative.

Unfortunately that's not the end of the story. The very next month I found the lump that would change my life forever.

The Family Connection

When I was ten years old my grandmother died. She was my favorite grandmother (I had three of them) because she had lived with our family for a while when I was younger. Nobody ever talked about it, but she lived with our family so that my Father could claim her as a dependent in order to give her medical coverage to treat her breast cancer. All I was told was that she needed an operation and we would visit her in the lobby of Walter Reed Hospital.

They told us that she had died of pneumonia that last week of October. My father was her only child and she was unmarried at the time. Her sister had died before her - also from breast cancer. So my parents left the three of us kids with a competent babysitter and headed to Tennessee to take care of her affairs.

They came back driving her car and pulling a u-haul trailer full of treasures. The car in itself was a treasure. It was a beautiful convertible, I think it was a Wildcat, with a push-button dash. The trailer contained everything: furniture, a color TV, soapstone carvings, rhinestone cigarette holders and a five-speed bike with a banana seat, and many other things. Being the only granddaughter, I was the recipient of many of those wonderful things. She had a beautiful canopy bed with a satin bedspread. She had all kinds of fancy clothes, many of them from the orient, and since she was a small person, my mother could not wear any of them. She had a variety of jewelry, from costume to pearls and diamonds. There were silver tea sets and fine china, oriental chests and curio cabinets, a large color TV and a small portable four inch one.

When I missed my grandmother, I would lay in bed at night and talk to her in heaven from her canopy bed. I would wear her beautiful shoes and gloves that went up to the elbow and jewelry that my mom had passed on to me. And, I would ride that five speed bike as fast as I could. Even though I missed her a lot, the things that I inherited reminded me of her often.

It turns out I inherited more that some fancy stuff. I inherited her genes and that's where this cancer story begins.

Don't let anyone tell you you can't catch cancer from someone else. I caught my breast cancer from my Dad. More about that later.