By Susan S. Turner
My mother lived with breast cancer for 14 years through two mastectomies and
repeated chemotherapy and radiation. When I found my lump I was stunned,
though I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. But I was immobilized.
It took me several days before I told my partner who had to push me into
action. I got the referral from my doctor and scheduled a
mammogram. The radiology practice fit me into their schedule that same
week but I still had several days to sit with the unknown.
Finally the day of the appointment came. I am waiting in the reception
area for an hour when finally the x-ray technician calls my name. As I
follow her in my usual sporty wheelchair to the exam room, she is chatty and
asks, “How did you get here today?” I respond, “I took the thruway to
exit 133. The office was easy to find.” Now she is wide eyed and
exclaims, “You mean you drove yourself here? How can you drive?” Used to
these questions, I answer politely about cars with hand controls.