Phone’s ringing.  The doc.  I’ve been waiting.

Yes, now is an OK time to talk.

Oh.

T-t-t-tell me what to do.

Sit down. Swallow that lump. What next? Go talk to Tracy. Get hugs. Get help.

Deep breaths.

Kids, don’t freak, please.  I am NOT about to die!  LOOK at me  – I’M STRONG!! Believe me, PLEASE!

Surgeons. Tests.  Biopsies.

Questions. Prayers. Decisions.

No decision to make.  It’s clear.

I’m ready.

Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

Business.  No stopping. Training and training.

Must move out of studio. Coincidence? Another place found.

Ready but still waiting.

Finally, mastectomy.  Times two.  ATTACK!

Awake from surgery.  Were my nodes clear? Nurses won’t answer.

Were my nodes clear? No one answers.

TRACY, were my nodes clear?

YES!

That news is my medicine.

Peeking.  Two small mounds, so very welcome on the flat reality.

Home.  Drain 1, Drain 2, Drain 3, Drain 4.  Learn to love them. Necessary.

Feeling pain.  Who beat me up?

Days.  Healing.  Drains can come out. Gross. Moving on.

Scars: large. red. Shocking. A life was saved here.

Plastic surgeon doing his job. Pumping up the volume.  Week 1. Week 2. Week 3.  And that’s enough.

He says:  now we wait.

Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

Confirmation: no chemo! RELIEF!

Just take this pill.  Everyday. 365×5.

The summer of expanders. Eagerly waiting to exchange.

Adjusting.  Feeling good.  Feeling strong.

Surgery pre-op.  Almost time to exchange.  Done waiting.  So ready.

Hospital. Here goes again.  This time it’s outpatient.  OK, I like that better.

Beat up again. Sore. Same sore. Hallelujah – no drains!  But foggy head.  Foggy foggy head.

Bandages off.

Improved? Yes.  How much? A lot.  As good as you hoped? No.

Grateful nonetheless.  So grateful.

Stumbling. Feeling sad for no reason. Mad at myself. So much has gone right.  Why feel sad?

Tears.

Not myself.

Staring.  Whose chest IS this? What happened to me?

Priorities change. Need to do all I can.

Re-evaluate. Think. Pray. Heal.

October will be Pink.  A race. A team. Important.

Ask. Receive. Grateful.

Abounding kindness.   Amazing generosity.

Got my shirt.  It has the word.  Survivor.

Tears.

Healing.

I am a breast cancer survivor.

Still healing.  I’ll get there.

My breast cancer was detected early, at Stage I, and my prognosis is excellent.  Efforts by Susan G. Komen have made my walk through this difficult time easier.

From the Susan G. Komen For the Cure website: For more than 25 years, Susan G. Komen for the Cure has played a critical role in every major advance in the fight against breast cancer, transforming how the world talks about and treats this disease, and helping to turn millions of breast cancer patients into breast cancer survivors.  Over the next 25 years, an estimated 25 million women around the world will be diagnosed with breast cancer if we don’t find a cure.  Susan G. Komen will not stop until we discover and deliver the cures. That’s our promise.

On October 2, 2010 I will walk with my family and my team in the Komen Charlotte Race for the Cure.  When I cross the finish line, my name will be announced as a survivor.

Please consider supporting my team, StrongerSarah, in the Komen Charlotte Race for the Cure.  Donating any amount is easy by going here.  Although my individual goal has been met, our team goal of $2,000 has not yet been reached. Your donation will help raise awareness and fund research so that our mothers, sisters, daughters and friends may never have to get that phone call.