The appointment with my gynecologist went off without a hitch. She examined my breasts and immediately detected an abnormality on my right side. Lumpty Dumpty was affirmed. She noted that I did not present any other tell-tale signs of cancer: no skin puckering, no discoloration, not nipple discharge. As far as she was concerned, there wasn’t much of a concern. But, due to my family history, she decided it was worth a closer look. So, she put in an order for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. I was no stranger to mammograms, having received them annually for the past few years. But, she informed me that this one would be a bit different being of a diagnostic nature. She explained that I was in a good position for effective diagnostics because of my previous mammograms: they had a baseline to make comparisons. I left the gyno’s office feeling fairly confidant that my lump was nothing to stress over, that it was likely nothing more than a cyst. After all, I’m only 46 years old, and aside from the lump, by breasts appear to be perfectly healthy. I went directly to the Scheduling desk only to find that it would be a good 6 weeks before they could squeeze me in for that mammogram (pun intended).

My journey begins a few months ago, when I first noticed an abnormality in my right breast: upper right quadrant, just above the nipple. A painless, innocuous swelling. I assumed I had injured myself, perhaps I had inadvertently bumped into the handlebar grip of my motorcycle while gearing up for my work commute? The size and location of the swelling seemed constant with such a scenario. I thought nothing of it and carried on with my day, quickly forgetting all about it.

Approximately a month later, as I was getting ready for work I felt a throbbing in the exact same area. I reached for my breast and there it was: that same swelling I had noticed a month before, only this time there was pain. A feeling of dread came over me: my mother’s curse has followed me. My own Mom succumbed to breast cancer 11 years earlier. She was 56 years old when she died. It was a heartbreaking ordeal. I don’t know what stage it was when her cancer was diagnosed, but it had quickly spread to her bones and her brain. She was dead within 2 years. The cancer essentially ate away her brain, to the point that she was unable to form coherent words, or control her own bodily functions. It was a prolonged, undignified, painful death. I don’t fear much of anything, I have no phobias to speak of. I can ride my motorcycle 100 miles per hour and be cool as a cucumber. BUT, if there is anything I do fear, it’s going out the way my Mom did. I would rather shoot myself in the head than die like that. My mind cranked on this thought for a few minutes, until switching gears. I sorted through other possibilities, one of which being Crohn’s Disease. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s 6 years prior. It’s an inflammatory autoimmune disease that primarily affects the digestive tract, but also manifests itself elsewhere. Inflammation can also affect the skin, eyes, joints, heart, and lungs…all of which I have experienced. One week my eyes will be affected, the next week it’s my lungs (pleurisy), the week after that it’s my lady-parts…and so on & so forth. One time inflammation settled in my heart, causing a bout of pericarditis. I spent about a week in the cardiac ward at St Mary’s in Rochester for that one. Inflammation travels around my body like a death metal band on world tour. Now, knowing how inflammation circulates throughout my body, I decided that this throbbing lump in my breast was more than likely inflammation due to Crohn’s. I resolved to keep an eye on it, and if it didn’t go away in a timely manner, I would get it checked out. It only took a few hours for the throbbing to disappear, and I quickly forgot all about it.

Another month went by before I remembered my lumpy friend. I had just stepped out of the shower, wrapping my towel around my body. As I tucked the corner of the towel under my right arm, my hand grazed along my breast and I felt it again: that same lump. It was no longer throbbing, it was completely pain-free…but the size and firmness was more noticeable than before. I looked at myself in the mirror, and nothing looked out of the ordinary. My breasts were symmetrical, no skin changes, no discoloration. I thought to myself: this is probably nothing more than a cyst, but damn…I need to get this checked out. That very morning I set up an appointment with my gynecologist for the following week.