I Knew I Had Breast Cancer Before My Official Diagnosis

After Betty learned about nurse navigators and all they do, she gained immense respect for them.

It was April 1, 2024, just two days before we were leaving for a two-part trip: a celebration of life for a dear friend in Portland, Oregon, then flying to Dallas, where our family will be gathering for the total solar eclipse. That afternoon, while changing clothes, I noticed a large lump deep in my left breast. I’m a science person so it was not a mystery what this portended.

The next day, I called my doctor to get an order for a mammogram, but she was off that day. I find it difficult nowadays to easily get a medical appointment, and you can be on the phone a long time before someone answers and says they can schedule you next month.

And here, is one of the reasons why I’m writing this.

I asked the doctor’s assistant "I need an order for a mammogram. Since my doctor is not there, how can I get one?”

“Oh, she said, just call the Mission Outpatient Center.” (Really? I had no idea I could do that.)

The outpatient center examined me and gave me a mammogram order and said I should be able to get in next week. I looked at the man and said, “Could you please check to see if they could possibly take me now? I’m here and I’m gone for a week starting tomorrow.”

To my surprise, he came back and said they would take me in the next hour. (I think he was surprised too.)

The mammogram and ultrasound found a 3.2-centimeter lump with indistinct edges and two lymph nodes involved. The radiologist, a handsome and well-spoken young man, told me of the possibility of a problem. He was clearly concerned about my distress levels. Once I heard lymph nodes were involved, I knew.

I had never heard about nurse navigators before, but in the next weeks, the biopsy and schedules with the surgeon, radiation oncologist and medical oncologists followed. Their times were all arranged by the nurse navigator and her team. I was amazed at their position in the medical soup of cancer. They answer all questions, provide literature, arrange and rearrange schedules with medical staff. That only begins to describe their extreme value to the frustration and angst of navigating medical care, let alone the medical complexities of cancer itself. I could phone them any time.

Their place in the complex medical care of cancer gives me new respect for the profession of medicine. I understand this position is not everywhere, so I feel additionally fortunate.

On April 11, upon returning from our trip, I had the biopsy. My results showed the 3.2-centimeter tumor with indistinct edges, invasive lobular carcinoma with two lymph nodes already infected. Estrogen and progesterone-positive disease, HER2-negative.

This could be a stopping point, however...

There is another twist, in case you are interested. I got a PET scan, to see if it had metastasized to any other part of my body. To my amazement, a lot of activated and infected lymph nodes showed up on the other side of my body in the lower abdomen area. Full stop. My lumpectomy surgery was scheduled for May 28, but now another biopsy is needed to determine the ensuing treatment — is it the same or a different cancer?

Whew. It turned out to be benign particles: polyethylene parts of joint replacements. I indeed qualified for the treatment. My right knee has been replaced three times. What a fluke! The good news of the PET scan is that all my other body parts are unremarkable — such an indifferent but welcome description.

My surgery was on May 28 and I’ve been walking a mile or more a day ever since, and feeling very good. After the healing from the surgery, we will deal with the next phases: radiation and any chemical systemic therapies.

I feel very fortunate. Many thanks to so many people: The talented and intelligent medical providers at Mission Hospital and the Leonard Cancer Institute in Mission Viejo, California, and the nurse navigators who made it all go as smoothly as possible for me. Susan Burnett was my first nurse navigator, and the next one at the surgical stage was Marie Ramirez. Thank you both, and to all the rest of the medical team. Dr. Marla Anderson was my surgeon; Dr. George Miranda was my medical Oncologist and Dr. Gene Liu was my radiation oncologist.

Your patient, and your friend, “Betty"

This post was written and submitted by Betty Geltz. The article reflects the views of Geltz and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.