In the Beginning

In my past life, B.C. (before cancer), my intentions were to reflect Christ and in a very small way, I did. Not to be arrogant, but I think I did.

Now, after being diagnosed with intrusive lobular carcinoma, God is adjusting my focus. I am seeing Him more distinctly than ever before through my husband's, children's, and friends' caring, loving actions and prayers. They are His hands and feet, carrying me as I float through these weeks going from fear and worry to strength and faith. They are His army, like the army of angels that the Old Testament prophet, Elisha, prayed for God to show his servant. Elisha wasn't worried because God sent an angelic army to protect them. Intense spiritual warfare is being waged around us, too, but there are seen and unseen angels protecting us the same way.

Here's some background. January 3, 2011, my new gynecologist, Dr. Caroline Bohme, found some lumpy breast tissue in both of my breasts and recommended that I get a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound for a better idea of what was there. She mentioned fibrocystic breast disease and that sounded pretty benign to me after doing some research.

On January 12, the mammogram technician-lady and I joked around about how wimpy some small-breasted women can be while having a mammogram. I, being rather small-breasted, didn't really mind all the squishing. After having mammograms for the past 16 years, I was used to having a stranger place them in the proper positions for their photos. She did not make any negative comments so I was unaware of the presence of the tumor yet.

After lots of mammogram photos were shot, I was off to see the ultrasound technician named Gloria. Gloria took even more photos and my breasts are now immortalized at Mercy Hospital's x-ray department. Gloria left the room to find the radiologist who would interpret the photos immediately for me.

After a really long time, about 20 minutes, Gloria returned with the radiologist, a talkative, kind, young lady named Dr. Susan Cha. I anxiously listened to Dr. Cha, not because I was worried, but because I wanted her to finish talking so I could ask if she was related to Dr. Peter Cha, my orthopedic surgeon who repaired the labrum in my right shoulder on July 13, 2009. She told me loads of information for which I had no frame of reference but I listened politely. Finally, I realized she was trying to explain that I have a tumor that is slightly smaller than one centimeter.

Then, I blurted out, are you related to Peter Cha? She said, "yes!" and "He's my husband!" I told her about my shoulder surgery and said, "Say Hi to him for me," after she finished talking. We parted ways and I went to back to work, without any idea of what a one centimeter tumor could mean. I didn't feel sick. And I wasn't even scared or worried. Yet.