Time for a checkup, ladies!
Lady readers, we are going to have a serious discussion this week. Guy readers, you can check out here unless you happen to have a mother, wife, sister, daughter, or special female friend.
About three months ago my baby sister discovered that she had breast cancer. She got the test results on a Thursday and had a mastectomy on the following Tuesday. Pretty harsh, I would say — no second opinions, no alternative choices. She is undergoing chemotherapy and will have radiation treatments at some point in the future. Of course this is not an uncommon story. It happens everywhere, every day.
But here is the rub. Karen is the least likely candidate in the world for any kind of cancer, much less breast cancer. There is no family history. She breast-fed her children. She has been a vegetarian for more than 25 years — no fat, no disgusting artery-clogging oils bogging down her system. She has lived on broccoli, legumes, cantaloupe and spinach, carrots, nuts, and apples. About 12 times in her adult life she has ingested slivers of turkey, chicken, or baked fish. Nothing is ever fried in her house — nothing.
She is a nurse. She understands the importance of check-ups and she always got them.
She never engaged in risky behavior. Never smoked or worked in places that allowed smoking. She never drank anything more potent than water or milk. She and her husband and sons walk, jog, swim, ski, ride mountain bikes, and climb "fourteeners" in Colorado (a series of mountains that are 14 miles high.) I always thought they were disgustingly healthy.
They have lived in multiple communities, but none of them deadly — Augusta, Ga., Honolulu, Hawaii, Manhattan and Fort Scott, Needles, Calif., Nashville, Tenn., and now Ft. Morgan, Colo. Nothing there that would indicate nasty industrial waste products, right?
So what happened?
A medical snafu happened. When she and her family were moving from Tennessee to Colorado two years ago she noticed a painful swelling above her left breast. She initially thought it was from lifting something and paid little attention. It faded after the move and she thought no more about it. When she went to her new physician in Colorado for her annual check-up, she mentioned it. She had a mammogram. She heard nothing. She assumed everything was fine.
Months later the swelling and pain returned. She called the doctor's office and reported the problem. She wanted to know what the previous mammogram had shown. She got a huge run around. Cut to the chase here. After six months or so of calling and being put off, she found out that her mammogram films had been lost. They suggested she come in for another. She did. Guess what they found?
So, lady readers, get your exams. Do it on your birthday as your birthday present to yourself — that way you will never forget. If you don't hear from them, don't assume. Call and make sure. If they put you off, call again. If they still put you off, make some noise until you get an answer.
I have been angry many times in my life, but there is not much that makes me angrier than this. It is one of the least fair things that could happen to anyone I know, much less anyone I love. And it is not even an unusual story. As I said, it happens everywhere, every day. My oldest daughter said, "If Aunt Karen can get this with a lifestyle as healthy as hers, there is not much hope for any of the rest of us." Amen.
So, ladies, get your annual check-ups. Guys, tell them to do it.
— SUSAN MARSHALL
