CNN iReport

In the fall of 1995 we were living the good life. We'd just bought our dream house and moved in the previous July and were looking forward to our first holiday season. Only one thing placed a cloud over our lives at that point in time. My wife had a mysterious bloody discharge from one breast. She had also lost a considerable amount of weight and I was beginning to become concerned.

My wife was reluctant to agree to go to a doctor but finally I managed to elicit a promise from her that she would go to see a physician the day after Thanksgiving. That morning we got into our car for the drive to the doctor never suspecting that our lives were about to change forever.

I waited in the waiting room while my wife saw her gynecologist. I saw her come back out just a few minutes after she had been escorted back to the examination room. She was pale and said that the doctor had told her that we had to go to the hospital at once for a mammogram and that the doctor was calling ahead to get her worked in that day.

She broke down and cried on the drive to the hospital and expressed her sense of dread saying, "The doctor says she's afraid it might be breast cancer." That was the first time I heard the words breast cancer in relation to my wife.

The doctor was true to her word and the people at the hospital were expecting my wife when we arrived. She was immediately hustled back into the radiology area where she underwent her first mammography at age 35.

Tensely I waited, not yet comprehending what was happening. My mind seemed numb, almost as if I had consumed a vast amount of alcohol. I nervously thumbed through some brochures sitting in a rack in the waiting room. I didn't have long to wait. Soon my wife was back and she told me we now had to go to see another doctor in the city.

With an ever growing sense of dread we headed to our car and drove to the next doctor's office where we scheduled an appointment to see the doctor the next day. We signed and filled out tons of paperwork in preparation for that visit and then left.

Still not sure of what we were dealing with we went home and decided to wait about contacting the family until we actually knew something that we could share with them.

The next day we nervously went to see the doctor. By now I had convinced myself that this was all a huge mistake and that the physician had made a mistake. My wife couldn't possibly have breast cancer. In the doctor's office my wife was examined and then the doctor showed us the mammogram and explained that it was suspicious. He wanted to do a procedure called needle aspiration. This involves piercing the breast with a long needle and extracting a small sample of the lump. That sample is then examined by experts who confirm whether the sample is cancerous or benign. I decided to wait outside for that procedure.

We went home that afternoon and talked about the situation. Both of us were in a state of denial which fed off each other in a sort of symbiosis. We had convinced ourselves that this was all a big mistake and that the greedy doctors were just milking our insurance. I'm ashamed to admit that reaction, but it's the truth and just goes to show you the desperation of our denial. Let me state here and now for the record that every member of the medical community involved in my wife's treatment were kindhearted professionals who never did anything but their best for her.

We returned to see the doctor after the results were in from the needle aspiration. It was now confirmed that my wife had breast cancer and the doctor laid out her options patiently and as kindly as possible. I remember the nails of her hand digging into my palm as I held her hand while we listened. When he finished speaking I realized that I must have missed something and looked at him as I asked him to repeat the question.

"I was asking which option you wanted to pursue," the doctor replied kindly.

I had to say, "I'm sorry Doctor, but I don't think we really absorbed all of that. Would you mind explaining it again?" To his credit the doctor kindly repeated my wife's options.

When he finished I looked to my wife but she shook her head and said, "I don't want to decide this right now."

I didn't think it good to put off the decision because the doctor had indicated that the cancer was the rapid spreading kind and I would have pressed her like a fool. The doctor seeing this interceded and prevented me from interfering when he said that she didn't have to decide then and there. He scheduled an appointment to see her in two days and we left.

Continued in Part 2.