Marion Hedenberg

For two months I’d been perspiring more than usual. I had Googled and one of the possible reasons could be infection. On September 24, 2013, when I received the call that I needed a mammogram recheck, I wasn’t truly surprised.

The next day I had my recheck which included a cat scan, followed by four needle biopsies, and then a biopsy indicator was inserted into my breast, indicating the position of the suspicious area, followed by another mammogram.

On October 4 when I woke up after surgery, the first words I heard were, “No cancer in the lymph nodes.”

Needless to say, I was very happy. When I was released, one of the written directions read “No operating of heavy equipment for 48 hours,” so I decided not to wash clothes for two days.

A week later I met with the surgeon. He went over the pathological results. The tumor was 1.2 centimeters, the size of my smallest finger nail. Then he said that he found cancer cells in the lymph nodes, miniscule in size but they were cancer cells. I wonder if he heard me say, “Aw shit.” He had made appointments for me to see a radiation oncologist on October 16 and a medical oncologist on October 24. Waiting is not one of my favorite things.

I was really eager to see my radiation oncologist and start the radiation. When we met, I was so disappointed to learn that radiation couldn’t start until a month after surgery so the scar had time to heal. Then he dropped the bomb.

“Radiation wouldn’t start until after chemotherapy,” he said, adding that chemotherapy and radiation would take 5½ months. That’s when I cried. I thought that means we won’t get to Florida this winter.

MARION: Page 10