Sixteen and Scared

It was late February when I stood in my bathroom alone, a 16-year-old girl, and attempted my first breast self-examination. I'm not sure why I decided to - I probably had learned about it at a health fair and decided it would be a good idea. I didn't know what I was looking for, and I actually felt quite ridiculous. I was ready to forego the entire process when I felt a hard nodule at the top of my breast. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel, but I knew that something that tactile in my breast tissue definitely wasn't a good sign. This is the part where you tell an adult, isn't it? But I was only 16 ... I couldn't get breast cancer, could I? So I went about my daily routine, feeling a bit insecure and unaware of myself. My conscience constantly nagged me, telling me that I needed to notify my mother. But I didn't, not until early March, about the time my family found out that a close friend had been diagnosed with breast cancer. So I told my mother. I remember feeling awkward as she felt the lump in my breast, and becoming frightened as I watched the expression on her face. My mother had a biopsy last year, so she had dealt with this personally. I watched the tears well up in her eyes, as fear enveloped my body for the first time.

"That's not good, Sade. That feels like the one my doctor had to remove," she said.

She told my stepfather, then she called my dad.

"Carl, is there any history of breast cancer in your family?"

He didn't know.

At that point, she told me I was to have my first visit to an OB/GYN. I went to the doctor's office the next day, frightened and nervous. I had only been to my pediatrician, now I was going to my mother's doctor, the same doctor who delivered me 16 years before. I stepped out of my juvenile existence and into the real world in less than 30 minutes.

As the doctor examined me, my mind wandered for the first time to thoughts of death. I shuddered.

"Now where did you say that lump was again?"

The dotor's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Right here," I showed him.

"Yes," he said, "I felt that one, but I feel another one right here, can you feel that?"

I could.

"You have two lumps, the first one about three centimeters, and the second one about one centimer."

He scheduled an ultrasound. The test would take place in one week. I called my friend that night, and she cried on the phone, which frightened me even more. I reassured her that everything would turn out fine. But in the back of my mind, I was crying just like her. I was only 16 and dealing with much more than I knew how to handle.

The day of the ultrasound, I lay back on the bed while two cold, metal pads were placed on my breasts. I held my mother's hand tightly, happy she was by my side. Two days later, the doctor called my mother.

"I received the results and Sade has a fibrous cyst, but she shouldn't worry, this happens in young females. It's perfectly normal, I'm just glad she detected it early."

Relief swept over my body. Thank God, I would live. All of a sudden, I felt silly for fearing death, but I also felt a profound appreciation for prayer and for the support of my family, which saw me through.

Previously, I mentioned that a close friend was diagnosed with cancer, and unfortunately, her results were not as positive as mine. My mother's childhood friend, and a beautiful woman who was just like a member of the family to me, passed away last fall, losing her battle with breast cancer. I dedicate this article to her and her family. She fought a true battle, which was far greater than the modest scare I had weathered. She came face to face with breast cancer and fought bravely until the end.

Early detection is extremely important. Just remember - it could save your life.

E-Mail: tmcinfo@texmedctr.tmc.edu
URL: http://www.tmc.edu/tmcnews/10_01_02/page_20.html