Scenes from the Sammons Cancer Center

I'll never forget the first time I walked through the doors of the Sammons Cancer Center to have a "screening mammogram" and meet my new on again/off again boyfriend, Dr. Michael Grant (although I have shared him with others, I know that he loves my boobies best! And you would think that since he uttered those three little words to me 8 years ago "you have cancer" that I would be so over him but I'm not! He is easy on the eye and a great bedside manner). The first time I walked through those doors and saw all the cancer patients I thought "this is so NOT ME." I am healthy. Young. Fit. Charming. Witty. Bright. With a full mane of curly hair. NOT A CANCER PATIENT.

Eight years later, an upgraded screening facility and a brand spanking new office bring back the same old memories. But I'm an old hand now. I know this IS ME. Although I could be on the once a year plan, I go every 6 months. Mostly to assure myself that I'm the One That Dr. Grant Wants and partially JUST TO BE SURE! As the years since diagnosis get further and further apart, I find myself listening more to the women around me. Watching closely for the signs that someone might need reassurance that Dr. Grant is the best and yes, I'm willing to share him with you. Or the ones who need to know that no hair days really do turn into bad hair days faster than you thought.

The Mammogram staging area is quite the interesting place. It's divided by the haves and the have nots. Those that have/had breast cancer go to the express lane. It's a new system designed to qive you, the frequent visitor, quick results so you're not fretting in the waiting room wondering if the initial nightmare of a bad mammo is happening AGAIN. Heard this time by a fellow fast laner: Something was wrong with the films and I have to do it all over again. Translation: Something might be wrong with me. I have to do it all over again. The look of panic overtakes the words. We strike up a conversation because I know the conversation in her head.

After the mammo is CLEAR - YAY ME - with their eyes the fast laners congratulate me and I then get ushered over for the highlight of the day: Feel up time by Dr. Grant with a Grey's Anatomy-like too young to be a doctor Intern (usually female ) watching (talk about a killjoy!). Dr. Grant is the best. He can make a surgical incision that will leave your real boyfriend searching for days to find it. His office has a clear separation of newbies and been there done thats. You can see it in their eyes. You can tell by the entourage that they have or do not have with them. You can tell by their whispered voices and worried looks or big old smiles.

Overheard by his office personnel about a new patient "She is really freaking out and is insisting to see the doctor now." NO SHIT. Let her take my appointment...because hearing those three words "YOU HAVE CANCER," even by a McSteamy, McDreamy, Worldclass breast surgeon is not what you EVER WANT TO HEAR.

Pictured here with me, my friend G who I let BORROW DR. GRANT....listening to the sweet sound of survivors at Komen Dallas Race for the Cure last year.