INTUITION

A question that comes up often when people first hear about my diagnosis is, "Did you know?" What they really mean is, did my gut tell me? Yes and no. My gut knew; it was my head that didn't. To wit:

1. When I'm called in for a second mammogram to get more compression views, I think nothing of it. Yet, subconsciously, I know there is more going on than just "dense tissue."
2. When the ultrasound technician tells me I need a biopsy, I don't ask her any questions, though she gives me plenty of opportunity to do so. I make the appointment but don't tell my husband.
3. When I have a core needle biopsy, I tell myself the procedure will simply show what benign breast tissue really looks like.

The evidence is adding up — yet I don't do the math.

Then one night I have a dream. In it, I'm telling both my parents that I have breast cancer. And I'm very sad because I realize that my father — who passed away three years ago — will never know that I have it. 

I awaken with a haunting feeling.

It was only after my diagnosis that I recall my dream and acknowledge how wise the subconscious mind is. It always knows.

Next up: Dr. A and Dr. J.