TL;TR How I discovered I had breast cancer.
About a year ago, more or less, I found through Facebook two cousins of mine (brother and sister by the father). The sister lived in Canada and the brother in Israel not far from me, so we decided to meet up.
We had some beer and a really nice conversation about meaning and goal of life, and it was the first time I was asked if I am angry that I had cancer (back then I was just done with all the treatments).
Without hesitation, I said “no!”, even though it sucked (sucked doesn’t even begin to describe how horrible it was), I managed to overcome it and my fashion studio was born because of it.
even a kick in the ass is a step forward.
I discovered the lump myself and immediately made an appointment to see a doctor.
He sent me to a breast surgeon who sent me to get an ultrasound.
In the middle of the ultrasound, I was looking at the screen without understanding, but the technician thought I understood (fuck knows why) and said: “Yeah, it looks weird, but it doesn’t necessary means that it is”.
Slight panic. They told me to wait a bit and came back to tell me that since I was the last patient they have to to do a biopsy. (not suspicious at all..)
It felt as staples were going through my skin, the women there were really nice though. But after they were done I had a panic attack, not a long one, luckily.
I made another appointment first thing on Sunday morning I was going to see the breast surgeon who was supposed to reveal my future.
On Friday he calls me and asks why am I not coming (Here is was very peculiar, since why would he care if everything was ok?) My weekend was ruined and on Sunday morning I came a bit earlier before my scheduled time and he was already there.
I sat down, he shoved me a piece of paper, said: “You should go to the hospital breast specialists” and turned away to shuffle paper and avoid me.
I read the word carcinoma “Is that cancer?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“You should just go to the hospital, they will explain it all to you”.
the conversation was going nowhere, so we got out (my girlfriend and I) and went downstairs to the secretary to get started with paper work for the hospital. “He said I am going to die?” I asked her, she told me no, and that we would do everything it takes to make me better.
I was never pleased with life and thought how much it would be better if I weren’t here, but out of nowhere I just instinctively said: “I don’t want to day, I can’t!”
to be continued.. to hard to write about it.
My latest tattoo, just a friendly reminder that I am alive.