Leap Year, Leap of Faith

How often do we remember what we do on any specific day of our lives ... generally only if something extremely happy or concerning happens, I guess. 2012 was a Leap Year, and on February 29 ... I made the first of several visits to my family doctor that would launch into a life-changing whirlwind.

On February 27 last year, I just didn't feel right. People asked if I was ok, told me I didn't look like I felt good and that I was very pale. But I pushed through the illness just thinking it was viral. I didn't have time to rest ... it was a really stressful time of finishing up my big work event, and then immediately receiving a call from my mom that changed her world forever as well. She was suddenly too scared to live alone, and wanted me to find her a place in a local nursing home. Things fell into place in a matter of hours, and she was in a van and on her way to safe and secure care later that afternoon. It was almost too easy. But as the end of the month was approaching fast, we needed to get her apartment cleaned out and avoid paying the next month's rent. We had only about 48 hours to get this accomplished ... so on February 28, Mitch took the day off, his parents came to help, and I pushed through cleaning out her closet and cabinets and personal items in a fog of feeling terrible while also trying to handle the emotions of moving a parent into a nursing home.

Immediately after getting through all of that ... I woke up on February 29, still feeling terrible, with a strange skin discoloration on one side of my chest. An immediate call to the doctor was made, they asked to see me right away, and we all optimistically hoped that I was exhausted from recent events and possibly exposed to a virus or strange staph infection at the public event I'd just finished running. After antibiotics did nothing during the first few days to relieve my symptoms, the doctor asked for input on how I wanted to proceed as far as continuing meds for a few more days, or moving forward now with other testing. I knew it was not a normal illness, and I pushed for a more thorough examination. At that point, they referred me to the Susan G. Komen Breast Health Center in Peoria for a mammogram.

I went to the appointment by myself. If I knew then what was to come, I would never have gone alone. But I guess I was optimistic and felt we were just "ruling out" anything more significant. The radiologist was solemn and concerned. The nurse was quiet, squeezed my arm a lot, and gave me nervous smiles. Another radiologist was called in for his opinion. He told me there was a pretty decent chance it was cancer, but that there was no way to know for sure without a biopsy. I was stoic, made an appointment for a biopsy, and walked out in a daze.

Another week would pass before I had the biopsy, a few more days before a firm diagnosis ... but at that point, I think I really knew where they felt I was headed, but I was still trying to be positive and optimistic.

But on Leap Day 2012, I put my future in the hands of the medical professionals around me. And I am so blessed to have their wisdom and knowledge to guide me to where I am today. As I go through these emotional days of reflection leading up to the one year anniversary of my diagnosis. I feel lucky to be where I am today ... strong, healing,  and living life as a survivor.