25 Comments
May 2Liked by Caileigh Scott

Oh my goodness. Your writing- the details, the recounting, the imagery- it’s all so beautiful while reliving, what I know to be known as the darkest of times. I’m sending you love.

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May 2·edited May 2Author

THANK YOU. ❤️ One day we won't have to share our traumas to make a point. But until then, we'll fight when we can and rest when we need to.

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This is insanely good writing. I had a biopsy a couple of years ago - turned out to be fibroadenoma - and that feeling of looking down on your body…yeah. I also dissociated. I was so terrified bc there has been a lot of breast cancer in my circle, and a dear friend of mine had recently gone through a double mastectomy and chemo as well as reconstruction. It was a long, traumatic ordeal, but she survived.

Screw the WSJ for their flippant and insensitive language. The disregard for our bodily trauma is unreal.

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Thank you SO much! I'm so glad yours was benign but yes, the biopsy experience is so scary and grim. The breast center I ended up choosing for treatment offers Ativan for such tests which HONESTLY should be standard practice I say.

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I was thanking my lucky stars that I have a Xanax prescription. I don't take them unless I need to, and that day, I needed to. They really should offer anxiety medication for terrifying medical tests, I completely agree. I was shaking so bad during my diagnostic mammo that the lady was like "if you don't stop shaking I can't do the scan". I asked to be excused for a moment to take an extra pill. The biopsy was so weird. I was drugged to the gills but my brain went "bye now!". I barely recall the procedure at all. Eventful for my very first routine mammo!

I feel very lucky it turned out to be benign (obviously). I have dense breasts and they are "busy", as my radiologist said. I have to get an ultrasound with the mammo from now on, which, fine. I got a callback last year too, but fortunately it was a case of weird positioning. I wish these tests weren't so stressful, but your story is a good reminder of how crucial it is to make sure you get them.

Wishing you strength as you navigate your recovery. You've been through something so profound and are handling it with such grace.

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Funny how our brains are like, "This is a bit too much, we're taking a break!"

I had dense, busy breasts as well, which I wasn't very aware of until we needed to part ways. I think of myself and all my friends diagnosed in our 30s, how we all could have been caught at Stage 0 if only routine screenings were earlier.

And with tests, my dream scenario is we could all just be put under with twilight anesthesia and woken up with the results. The tests are stressful and waiting for results is agonizing!

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You have been through so much,and it was awful, and terrifying, but you wrote about it so well. I held my breath the entire time. I had a biopsy a few years ago, it was benign but what a surreal experience. I totally detached from my body during the procedure, I distinctly remember practicing flying changes (an equestrian dressage move) with tears flowing down my cheeks. The waiting afterwards was awful and I almost kissed the cashier in the shop I was in when my gynecologist called. Take care of yourself ❤️

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I'm an equestrian too! Oddly enough, two days before my lump was found, I was riding in Wellington and a sweet horse kept nuzzling my chest. I thought we were bonding, and we were, but I realized later she likely smelled the cancer. She was so focused on that part of my body.

I'm SO glad yours was negative. The waiting is absolutely agonizing. I wish results could be instant. We deserve it after all we go through with breast tissue. ❤️

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I’ve heard they can tell, too. My physio told me that cats can tell too and will tend to paw you in that place… although my cat paws me everywhere! Do you still ride? Jumping or dressage? I had to stop after a ligament sprain in my neck that floored me gir two months. During a yoga class two years ago! i still have two horses though ❤️🙏

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May 2·edited May 2Author

I'm a jumper and still ride but mostly leisurely trail rides now. I've been very protective of my chest with riding and skiing, and play it safe these days. Medically I'm not restricted and can go for it as I used to, it's just a personal choice/comfort level. I'm so sorry you can no longer ride! But horses are magical even if just on the ground with them.

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Do you have a horse?

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I WISH!!!

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The amount of emotional energy that went to writing this beautiful service piece. Thank you and sending healing energy your way.

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Thank you so much for your kind words! I got mad enough that it flowed right through me and onto the page. ❤️

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May 5Liked by Caileigh Scott

Triple positive breast cancer survivor here and I love how you describe feeling like you were floating over your body during the biopsy (same). And that you are not the person you were pre cancer (same). Beautiful writing.

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Thank you so much! The biopsy experience was truly so surreal and I didn't even realize until retelling it much, much later that that's what happened. I'm so glad we're both still here. ❤️

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Same. I celebrate every birthday like it is the best day ever now 💃💃💃

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You are a gifted gifted human and it was an honor to read your words.

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Thank you SO much, that means a lot. ❤️

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Thank you—I think? Your attentive, nuanced writing brings back so much of my own story, and the ways I have told it and parsed it for others. Realizing each time I tell it that how I tell it is important to my living with it. And some of your details are so like my details (my body waiting for the doctor’s words, “pre-grieving”, these ‘new’ boobs—what are they?? etc.). So yeah, definitely: Thank you. In your finely drawn details I feel connected to you, and I feel warmed knowing we survivors are not alone.

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I’m so sorry you relate so much, but I’m so glad we can find comfort in our community. ❤️❤️❤️

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May 3Liked by Caileigh Scott

Be strong.

Our hearts go with you.

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Thank you!!!

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I am way too familiar with the medical details in this essay, so artfully conveyed, as I spent five years as a caregiver (and occasional co-writer) until recently.

With that all still being a bit fresh for me, there is so much I would like to say and yet not enough and it all just gets stuck somewhere on the way out. But I can say - I'm here and will keep listening. And you are amazing.

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Thank you so much, and so sorry you experienced it as a caregiver.

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