I think it was almost ten years ago now when I first stumbled on the fact that retinoblastoma survivors can get secondary cancers later on in life. Back then, I was like a dog with a bone, pursuing the medical profession to get answers, and to design a screening program for me to detect early cancers.
So when I fronted up for my annual breast ultrasound yesterday, I shouldn’t have been surprised when the doctor began telling me that ultrasound was not enough, that I needed a mammogram and an MRI. Now that I’m forty years old, things have changed.
But I was. I wanted to say ‘no thank you, I’m fine’ and ‘let’s just do the ultrasound and I’ll go home’.
Why was I so reluctant to keep my finger on the pulse and ensure I was getting the best medicine could offer me in the way of a screening program? Well, maybe it was because, for the first time, someone was saying to me that I was in a high risk group, and I needed to be watchful.
Maybe I dont’ want to hear this, maybe it is too confronting? My life is going so well,and I don’t want it to change. I also hate hospitals and quite honestly, anything other than an ultrasound scares me.
Part of it too might be that it seems like overkill that they’re putting all these resources into just looking for breast cancer wen I know full well that secondaries can occur anywhere. An acquaintance of mine died last year from a leiomyosarcoma. She was 49 years old, had bilateral retinoblastoma and radiotherapy treatment. Detecting a leiomyosarcoma is near impossible.
But I’ve pushed down my fear and reluctance and booked myself in for the MRI. I know it would be crazy to ignore what the doctors are saying. They are taking me seriously, acknowledging that I am at higher risk. I owe it to myself to keep up the screening program.
Posted in Genetics, Retinoblastoma. Permalink for this post: permalink.
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