When you are face to face with mortality

Have you ever been face to face with mortality? What did you think about? Who did you think about? Did you have any regrets that kept nagging at you? What was on your shoulda, woulda, coulda list?

There have been a handful of times in my life when I have faced my own mortality. I got hit by a car a few years back, I was in a horrific car crash a handful of years before that, and I have been on many many plane rides where I thought that the plane was going to drop out of the sky. But nothing has been as eye-opening as the last life emergency (but I promise you, it has a happy ending).

A couple of months ago, I noticed a pain in my arm, by the armpit. At this point, I had been doing a lot of lifting, running, exercising and just a lot of daily tasks that involved my arm. I thought it was a growing or tired muscle. After weeks, it was still hurting so I turned to the worst thing I could have…google. It ranged from amputation to a simple virus and my lymph nodes were just dealing with an infection or virus somewhere in my body.

I had my annual OBGYN appointment the following week and decided to ask her about it. She said that I was young and healthy, and also concluded that it was probably some infection that I had been fighting off. She did she that as part of my annual, she will feel around the area, and she will be extra aware of that area. She felt around and around and around. She pushed and pulled and pushed some more. Until the words no woman wants to hear, came out of her mouth… “Jean, I feel a lump.”

Utter disbelief…shock…panic…a lump? What do you mean a lump? I’m young and healthy..she said so herself. I had the packet to get a mammogram, ultrasound and whatever else prodding the breast doctor needed to do to figure out what this lump was. And with that, I was sent home.

On the way home, I pulled my car over into a parking area. How was I going to tell my daughter? My family? My friends? How was this possible? And then I cried. I cried so hard, my vision was blinded (thank goodness I pulled over!) and tears just streamed down my face. I started grieving for a life that I thought I was going to have, a battle that I knew that I had to face and for a daughter that could possibly grow up without her mom.

Was it premature? Absolutely. But when you hear that word…lump…you just think that your life is over. You see, cancer runs in my family. My grandfather died of cancer, my aunt died of cancer and my other aunt is a breast cancer survivor. It has always been nagging the back of my mind, that more than likely, it was a battle that I would have to face one day. I just didn’t think I would have to do it at 37.

With the examination appointment set, all I could think of was my daughter. She’s obsessed with me. Would she be able to survive without me? When she got older, would she even remember me? Could my husband have those female conversations that are reserved for moms only? I think the biggest thing that I had to deal with was the fact that she may be in a world that she would never remember me. Never remember the fun times and adventures we have been on and the lessons that I have taught her. She would never remember how much I loved her and wanted the best for her. So, I wrote…and wrote…and wrote…and wrote. Every milestone in her life – her birthdays, prom, first period, first boyfriend, college, first baby…every milestone, I wrote her a letter. Some way to tell her that I loved her and was helping her. A way to give her advice on how to deal with love, loss, and life when I thought she would need me the most. If I wasn’t going to be there, I was going to be there as best as I could.

Then came the appointment. Everyone warns you about how uncomfortable your annual appointments are…why does no one tell you how bad squishing your breasts can be?! Ouch. They did test after test after test. My doctors were thorough and did more then was asked of them. They wanted to make sure they had all of the data to be able to make a scientific conclusion. For weeks leading up to the appointment, I didn’t sleep. My stomach hurt from the anxiety, and I just tried to keep myself busy. And many times, I just wanted to throw up.

Finally, the doctor came in. She had examined all the tests. She looked at all the pictures.

Negative.

I didn’t have cancer. I was in the clear, for now. This wave of relief washed over me. I got dressed and sat in my car. And cried. Cried for a life I still had to live. For a daughter that would have a mother and for a battle that I didn’t have to fight.

I’ve worked in a cancer hospital; I’ve had family and friends die from this awful disease. I know how hard they fought. They are the strongest women on this planet.

So this is a reminder to all of you…get checked, do your self checks and if something doesn’t feel right, go seek help.

Also..remember to live with no regrets. Write down your shoulda, woulda, coulda list and start living it. I'll start.... take my daughter on the polar express, start a girl scout troop, take my dog to the beach...