The phone rang the other day, and an old friend was on the line.
We discussed this and that, but before we hung up, I had to tell her one more thing:
I found a lump last month.
I was matter-of-fact about it, as if I were reminding her to watch "Scandal" that night. No other words were necessary. Women know what that phrase means -- where the lump was, what it could be.
I told her she should be sure to do her own breast self-exams all the time, and get her mammogram once a year.
I tried not to sound like a doctor or a nerd, just a girlfriend chatting about the weather and guys and breast cancer.
It was hard because two of my dearest friends -- beautiful, giving, hardworking women who give 150% to their husbands and children every day -- were diagnosed with breast cancer last year. The American Cancer Society says at least 232,340 women will be diagnosed this year.
I told my friend that I was ending every conversation with friends by reminding them to check because I didn't want to lose any of them.
She paused, a long pause. I wasn't sure what was coming next.
She reminded me that I was a columnist. She wondered why I was using the phone.
I reminded myself that "breast" is not a dirty word. I wondered what I was afraid of. I couldn't remember: Had I ever written the word "breast" in a column? What would my grandmother have thought?
My grandmother, I think, would have been proud that I was trying to save lives.
So I'm sharing what happened -- and what didn't -- and how you can't know you're OK unless you get checked.
I found the lump Jan. 7 as I was planning a trip. I didn't panic. I called my doctor, and three days later, she was manipulating my breast, using her fingers in circular motions as she tried to ascertain the size and shape of the lump inside.
I've always believed there were five things on the list of worst experiences a woman can endure: a mammogram, a pelvic exam, childbirth, loss and bad sex.
This was the sixth: having someone else feel around for a lump that could change your universe. That it's being done is bad. Having something found is worse.
The doctor felt what I felt, and since I'd already had my annual mammogram, she sent me for an ultrasound, which provides a deeper digital look.
In my case, a second mammogram and the ultrasound proved the lump was a fibrocystic mass -- a nuisance, but not a life-threatening visitor.
Most important, I would not have known had I not checked.
So every day after, during every phone call, I found myself reminding friends to check.
I thought about my two beautiful girlfriends and the discoveries that changed their lives forever. I thought about friends who aren't here any more.
And I worry about friends who could be one of the 232,000 this year.
So I'm not waiting for Breast Cancer Awareness month, in October.
I plan to have the conversation every day.
Contact Rochelle Riley: rriley99@freepress.com
More Details: Share your story
Send your story of how a simple act can save a life to rriley99@free press.com with the subject line “TAKE TIME TO CHECK.”
http://www.freep.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2013302170227
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