Abnormal Mammogram

Finding peace at Lake Alva during a recent camping trip. 

I know a lot of women who feel anxious about getting their annual mammogram. I wasn't one of those women. I'd show up for my annual appointment because I knew it was good preventative health care, but I didn't think I’d ever actually be diagnosed with breast cancer...especially at age 47.  

I had an abnormal test result after my first mammogram years ago. Like millions of women, I had to do a follow-up ultrasound and have a biopsy. And, like the posters in the waiting room of the imaging center say, it was nothing to worry about. At that time, I had a couple of fibroadenomas, non-cancerous (benign) lumps. I also learned from that first mammogram that I have dense breasts. Breast density refers to the amount of fibrous and glandular tissue compared to fatty tissue in the breast. There are four different categories of breast density and women with dense breasts like me have a higher risk of developing breast cancer and may require additional screening methods beyond mammography.  

On the day of my mammogram in April, I walked out of my co-working space on Front Street in Missoula and immediately ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in quite some time. We are around the same age, and she had breast cancer a few years ago. We gave one another a quick hug, caught up for a few minutes, and promised to get together soon for lunch. I headed to my appointment and while in the changing room I got a text from my cousin. It said, “For some reason you came into my mind today, so I was just wondering how you’re doing.” She had been diagnosed with breast cancer the year before.  

I’m someone who some would say has a “sixth sense.” I took note that the two interactions I’d had right before my mammogram were with friends and family who recently had breast cancer. It didn’t sit well with me, and therefore I wasn’t surprised to get the letter and phone call a few days later that I needed to come in for additional imaging.  

My follow-up appointment started with having another mammogram. Then I was sent back to the waiting room while the radiologist reviewed it and compared it to previous mammograms. After 20 minutes or so, I was called back again, and the technician said the radiologist would like to move forward with an ultrasound—in both breasts. As I lay on the table with my arm above my head, I was still staying relatively calm, although it felt like the technician was taking forever. She repeatedly applied gel to the wand-like device as she pressed harder and harder, scanning both breasts. Once she started asking if I had a family history of breast cancer and the more she lamented about how dense my breasts were, I started to get worried that they might not be looking at benign fibroadenomas this time.  

My suspicions were confirmed when the radiologist entered the room. He said hello and introduced himself, but I only noticed that he appeared to have a grim expression on his face. He took over the duties of applying the gel to the wand and as he scanned the breasts, he turned the monitor towards me and cut right to the chase by showing me the area in the right breast he was most concerned about. He also had suspicions about the left breast, but the imaging wasn’t quite as clear there.  

He went on to explain that what he was looking at was highly suspicious due to the shape, size, and location of the cells. So much so that he was 95% confident it was breast cancer. I know there is no good way to find out you have cancer, but I didn’t expect to find out laying on table, chest exposed, with my arm positioned above my head.

Both my mom and Dory and several other family members and friends had all offered to go to this appointment with me. I told them it wasn’t necessary. I’d had a follow-up ultrasound before, and it was no big deal. It turns out this time it was different, and I started to regret that I’d arrived at this appointment by myself. 

The appointment ended with the radiologist scheduling a biopsy for the following week and me holding out hope for the 5% chance that his assessment was incorrect.