*Editors Note: From November 2008 until October 2009, For Every Body will follow Ginger Johnson, the 2008 Think Pink for Life Honoree. Subscribe to this blog to be updated every time Ginger updates. Thank you for all your support!
Life is about Joy. It's true! I know many say life is about making money or living well or getting this or that. But honestly, life is about Joy. It's about the little things that make each day special. Seeing the sun rise, smelling the rain, listening to a child's laughter or truly laughing yourself. I'm talking - a serious good chuckle! It's about finding happiness even when it seems that there is none to be found. It's about lifting those around you and feeling the love that comes because of your deeds. It's about learning to overlook the small things that would otherwise bug you and forgiving as quickly as possible.
One of my favorite quotes that hangs on my kitchen wall is this: "In all of living have much fun and laughter. Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured." ~Pres. Gordon B Hinckley
That is so true!!! Life IS to be enjoyed. Now I'm not saying that everything will always be peaches and cream and that rose colored glasses will be the trend of the day. But as we live each day on this wonderful earth, we have the opportunity to choose how we will respond to the things around us. What a beautiful gift choice is. It is in our power to take any situation, good or bad, and make it better. It is in our power to overlook the slights of others so that we are not poisoned by our own hate. We get to choose how most things affect us and we can choose to find the good in every situation. I have a dear friend who underwent a nasty divorce and still was able to find humor in the situation. Of course, she was making fun of her estranged husband - but he really was doing humorous things! Poor man. Oh, the opposition we face in life. Sometimes it can seem so overwhelming, like the sun will not shine and the dark clouds just won't go away. I know. I've been there. But I've also seen the beauty of the sunrise and the silver and gold lining on those same clouds as the storm passes. Another quote I love: "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain."
When was the last time you let go of the stresses of the day and did just that - dance in the rain. When was the last time you left your 'adulthood' behind and said the word "Echo" really loud in an open area. I have to say that I truly love and appreciate the opportunity to experience cancer because now I do dance and I do shout 'Echo'. All the time! I dance with my kids, I dance while I clean. I smile and just dance. I also scream with excitement when my favorite movies are about to play. Yes, while I'm in the theater! (Sorry to all those moms in High School Musical 3 - and hooray to all the young girls who joined in with me! :) )
I know that some people out there can't stand other people who seem to be happy all the time and I truly pity those people. I often wonder what sadness has caused them to reach that point. What hurt in their life can they not let go of? I know first hand that holding on to hate and anger sours your soul. But as soon as you let it go, the burden is lifted and you can smile once again and really experience the joy that is around you.
So go on - let go of the things that are holding you back and learn to truly live! Have 'much fun and laughter' so that your life journey can be 'enjoyed, not just endured!'
All my love!
Ginger Johnson
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Now Accepting Stories for 2009
For Every Body would like to sincerely thank each of you who shared your experience with breast cancer with us in 2008. Each of the stories we received was touching and heartfelt. We appreciate your willingness to remind us all how far reaching this disease is and what each of us needs to do to help eliminate the fear associated with breast cancer and vigilantly work towards finding a cure. We truly do admire your courage and strength.
We are excited to announce our plans to continue our involvement with breast cancer. In 2009, we plan to again support a survivor, a child who has lost his or her mother, and a woman currently fighting breast cancer.
We invite each of you to spread the word about our search for stories. You are welcome to share yours again. We will keep the search open until summer 2009, but encourage you to share as early as possible so others may find inspiration and hope through reading your experiences.
To share your story or to receive more information about Think Pink, please visit www.ithinkpink.org. Check back here often to read updates from our 2008 Honoree, Ginger Johnson.
We are excited to announce our plans to continue our involvement with breast cancer. In 2009, we plan to again support a survivor, a child who has lost his or her mother, and a woman currently fighting breast cancer.
We invite each of you to spread the word about our search for stories. You are welcome to share yours again. We will keep the search open until summer 2009, but encourage you to share as early as possible so others may find inspiration and hope through reading your experiences.
To share your story or to receive more information about Think Pink, please visit www.ithinkpink.org. Check back here often to read updates from our 2008 Honoree, Ginger Johnson.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Congratulations to Ginger Johnson 2008 Honoree
The 2008 Evening in Pink event was a memorable evening for many and an inspirational evening for all. Paul Anderson CEO and Becky Anderson Founder of For Every Body were pleased to announce Ginger Johnson of Layton Utah as the 2008 Honoree. The For Every Body management proudly presented Ginger Johnson a check for $10,000 to help cover medical expenses and recovery efforts. "We're happy to work with Ginger over the next year to to build breast cancer awareness" said Becky.
Becky Anderson Founder For Every Body (left) with Ginger Johnson 2008 Honoree (middle), also Ginger Johnson Cancer survivor presented blanket (right).
Ginger Johnson awarded $10,000. Pictured left to right: Joe Draper, Scot Lunceford, Becky Anderson, Ginger Johnson, Ben, Brinley, Brooks, and Travis Johnson.
Kevin Sharp Country artist and cancer survivor.
Below is Ginger Johnson's story. Check back often to follow Ginger's progress through out the year.
Ginger Johnson's Story
The night was filled with excitement as we sat around the large oak table at my mom’s house. It was October 31st 2006 - Halloween - and the entire family had gathered to share in the festivities. The 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the creative costumes had already been given and candy had been passed around to appease the children. As I sat there, staring into the faces of my six sisters and my parents, I couldn't believe what I was going to have to tell them. "I have some good news and some bad news" I began. I could see the anticipation in their faces, not knowing what was coming. "I'm five months pregnant...and I was diagnosed with breast cancer this afternoon." Faces that were at first excited turned immediately to shock. And that's how my story began.
I was 31 years old with no history of breast cancer in my immediate family, 5 months pregnant with two other children, and with six sisters whose lives changed after one mere phrase. The words 'Breast Cancer' alone can strike fear into the heart of any woman. But add it to the word 'Pregnant' and it takes on a whole new meaning. I remember sitting in the surgeon’s office as he spoke the words of my diagnosis. What was thought to be nothing because of its appearance on my areola, turned out to be invasive cancer. Many questions should have run through my mind - What would this mean for me and for my unborn child? How will I get through this? - But they didn't. Instead I just smiled and said, "Ok what do we do first?" I was instantly in survival mode. I had been through tough times before and had found the means to be happy and to turn bad situations into good ones and this new diagnosis of breast cancer wasn't going to be any different. I would be happy and I would find a way to help others during my journey. At least by so doing I would find peace within myself and that would pull me through the rough times ahead. And so it began.
My first mastectomy was while I was 6 months pregnant. And although I joked with my surgeon and operating room nurses about how fashionable their blue hats and scrubs were I was nervous about the outcome. How would this all work out? What would it be like only have on breast? Could I still breast feed my newborn baby? After the surgery and the bandages were removed I mourned the loss of my breast as other survivors have. The difference for me was that I only have large breasts when I'm pregnant, so it was a double whammy to have one of my 'rewards' removed during its prime! Other cancer survivors who are not pregnant also don't understand the feeling you get as you look in the mirror and see a HUGE pregnant belly and only one breast. Many in my situation would have cried for days - but I just couldn't. For me it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen! Laughter became my medicine.
I waited to have my auxiliary node dissection until May of 2007 after the birth of my son and the cancer had spread. My final diagnosis was Stage 2B. Next stop - Chemotherapy. Let the fun begin.
Imagine being a student in first grade who has been assigned to take a college class for individuals in their 30s. Now add on another 30 to 40 years and that's what it felt like walking into the chemo room. First of all, I was way too young to be there, and second, no one in the room was smiling. I had never been around anyone with cancer before, or seen the affects it can take on a person. I was shocked to see that all the treatment chairs were full and everyone looked so solemn and sad. I soon learned why firsthand. They were being killed on a cellular level and I was next.
Chemotherapy is what should be given to criminals instead of jail time. I'm convinced that it would be the 'cure all' for those who choose to violate the law. One strong dose and they would NEVER want to be bad again. But no, instead it's given to the un-expecting people who just want to live good lives a little bit longer. If you've never experienced the effects of Chemotherapy, there's really no way to explain it properly. It's something you have to experience because of the intense, horrible, wrenching, disgusting, gross, foul, loathsome (and one more adjective for emphasis) yucky reactions you have to it. Everyone's experience with chemo is different but we all have one thing in common - the experience isn't good.
After my first treatment I understood why the other people in the Chemo room didn't smile and I was determined to do something about that. But what can you do for sick people who don't really want to be bothered during treatment? And what could I do being a mother of 3 with a newborn baby, working full time from home and being beat down by the effects of chemotherapy? Then after a sleepless night I figured it out. BINGO! Quite literally...Bingo. You can do it sitting down, I would be the caller and the patients would just have to mark a square on a piece of paper, then I could hand out prizes to whoever won - BUT my oncologist didn't think that was such a great idea. So on to idea number two...I'd just give out prizes...awards for just being alive, for being a fighter. For taking our chemo medicine and for living one more day. We should be rewarded just for being strong enough to be a survivor. And so that's what I did for the entire 6 months I had my chemo treatments. I contacted local businesses on my 'good' days and drove around with my kids to pick up the donated prizes. We had gift certificates from Target, Home Depot, Red Robin, Great Harvest, Wendy's and more. People opened their hearts to my 'Do Good, Feel Better' project and gave freely. You should have seen the faces of the chemo patients on the first day of my treatment when I told them there were going to win prizes for being in the chemo room. It was so memorable. Some were shocked, some didn't want to participate (at first) but most welcomed the change.
As the months rolled on, a younger person than me entered the chemo room. He was 18 and had testicular cancer. He was quiet and shy at first, but after winning the prizes and interacting with the others in the room during 'prize time, he soon opened up and we all enjoyed his contributions to the conversations. The chemo room on Thursdays was the place to be - I'd hand out prizes, sing the occasional upbeat song to the patients and even got my favorite nurse, Daryl, to dance a jig. Many patients even changed their appointment times to be able to be there for the giveaways. Now in telling all this I don't want to portray someone who is bragging about what I did - or oooh look at me - I'm so wonderful. It's not that at all. What I want to get across is that good things can come from bad experiences if we are willing to open our hearts to others and share the goodness inside. I received FAR more than I ever gave away. I gained happiness, peace and the opportunity to live a longer life with my dear husband and children. Other friends in the chemo room weren't as fortunate and I've mourned losing them.
During my chemo experience my slogan has been 'Just Keep Swimming' taken from the song sung by Dori on the movie Finding Nemo. In life we all have to 'Just Keep Swimming' no matter what kinds of currents we face. No one is exempt from the difficulties of life and if you think the grass is greener on the other side you might want to double check because it's most likely artificial turf. We all have challenges to overcome - but by reaching out to help others, we find that our hands are open to receive what they have to share with us in return.
My chemo experience ended in November of 2007 but the memories and the friendships I made remain. Since then I've had a second mastectomy in Feb. of 08 and an ovary removed in June. I jokingly tell everyone they can now call me 'Jim' since I look more like a man every day. :) My battle continues but so does my determination to stay positive through this journey. It's not always easy and I admit that I've had my moments of utter grief and self pity, but I also have memories of those in the chemo room who had it much worse that I did and I remember to be grateful that I 'just' have breast cancer. I've seen worse.
To top off my experience, after I completed chemotherapy, my father was diagnosed with Stage 4 esophageal cancer. I can not explain the great blessing it is to be able to look my dad in the eyes and honestly say 'I completely understand what you're going through. I know the pain you'll feel and the thoughts that will roll through your mind. Dad, I'm here.' The role of caregiver has been reversed and I find that because of my cancer experience I am, once again, able to offer love, support and understanding to someone dear who's going through the cancer battle field.
Although I never want to endure chemo again, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. It has changed who I am. It made me a better person and forced me to choose what type of person I was going to be: Someone who helped, or someone who just hurt.
To those of you who have fought the fight and continue to win daily, look for others who need your love, support and understanding. You can offer so much because you know what it's really like and can offer true empathy. You can be a pillar of strength to those who are scared and down hearted.
For those of you who have just been diagnosed - don't worry - there are those who have gone before who can help you and although the time ahead will be a challenge - you can do it. You have more strength inside of you than you know and more people who love and will support you than you can imagine. It will be alright. You can get through this. Just keep swimming.
I'm currently in the process of tracking down a plastic surgeon I can trust to complete my reconstruction. So my journey continues. Looking like a 3 year old is only fun for so long...scratch that - it's never fun. But it's one of the last things that need to be completed before I'll feel like this part of my journey is coming to a close.
You asked us to share our greatest challenge and the interesting thing I've found, is that for me, my battle through breast cancer hasn't been dealing with the pain, lack of strength, or self image issues. The hardest thing for me to overcome has been guilt. I feel guilt due to the fact that I've created more debt for my family. Even if it was unintentional - the bills keep coming in and I'm the reason for it. Chemo leaves your body, your hair eventually grows back, the memories of the aches and pains fade - but the bills still have to be paid. Somehow.
BUT, as always, we do what we can, a little at a time, everyday until we reach our goal. We keep swimming and moving forward and we help others along the way. Together we survive.
All my Love!Ginger Johnson
Ginger Johnson's Story
The night was filled with excitement as we sat around the large oak table at my mom’s house. It was October 31st 2006 - Halloween - and the entire family had gathered to share in the festivities. The 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the creative costumes had already been given and candy had been passed around to appease the children. As I sat there, staring into the faces of my six sisters and my parents, I couldn't believe what I was going to have to tell them. "I have some good news and some bad news" I began. I could see the anticipation in their faces, not knowing what was coming. "I'm five months pregnant...and I was diagnosed with breast cancer this afternoon." Faces that were at first excited turned immediately to shock. And that's how my story began.
I was 31 years old with no history of breast cancer in my immediate family, 5 months pregnant with two other children, and with six sisters whose lives changed after one mere phrase. The words 'Breast Cancer' alone can strike fear into the heart of any woman. But add it to the word 'Pregnant' and it takes on a whole new meaning. I remember sitting in the surgeon’s office as he spoke the words of my diagnosis. What was thought to be nothing because of its appearance on my areola, turned out to be invasive cancer. Many questions should have run through my mind - What would this mean for me and for my unborn child? How will I get through this? - But they didn't. Instead I just smiled and said, "Ok what do we do first?" I was instantly in survival mode. I had been through tough times before and had found the means to be happy and to turn bad situations into good ones and this new diagnosis of breast cancer wasn't going to be any different. I would be happy and I would find a way to help others during my journey. At least by so doing I would find peace within myself and that would pull me through the rough times ahead. And so it began.
My first mastectomy was while I was 6 months pregnant. And although I joked with my surgeon and operating room nurses about how fashionable their blue hats and scrubs were I was nervous about the outcome. How would this all work out? What would it be like only have on breast? Could I still breast feed my newborn baby? After the surgery and the bandages were removed I mourned the loss of my breast as other survivors have. The difference for me was that I only have large breasts when I'm pregnant, so it was a double whammy to have one of my 'rewards' removed during its prime! Other cancer survivors who are not pregnant also don't understand the feeling you get as you look in the mirror and see a HUGE pregnant belly and only one breast. Many in my situation would have cried for days - but I just couldn't. For me it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen! Laughter became my medicine.
I waited to have my auxiliary node dissection until May of 2007 after the birth of my son and the cancer had spread. My final diagnosis was Stage 2B. Next stop - Chemotherapy. Let the fun begin.
Imagine being a student in first grade who has been assigned to take a college class for individuals in their 30s. Now add on another 30 to 40 years and that's what it felt like walking into the chemo room. First of all, I was way too young to be there, and second, no one in the room was smiling. I had never been around anyone with cancer before, or seen the affects it can take on a person. I was shocked to see that all the treatment chairs were full and everyone looked so solemn and sad. I soon learned why firsthand. They were being killed on a cellular level and I was next.
Chemotherapy is what should be given to criminals instead of jail time. I'm convinced that it would be the 'cure all' for those who choose to violate the law. One strong dose and they would NEVER want to be bad again. But no, instead it's given to the un-expecting people who just want to live good lives a little bit longer. If you've never experienced the effects of Chemotherapy, there's really no way to explain it properly. It's something you have to experience because of the intense, horrible, wrenching, disgusting, gross, foul, loathsome (and one more adjective for emphasis) yucky reactions you have to it. Everyone's experience with chemo is different but we all have one thing in common - the experience isn't good.
After my first treatment I understood why the other people in the Chemo room didn't smile and I was determined to do something about that. But what can you do for sick people who don't really want to be bothered during treatment? And what could I do being a mother of 3 with a newborn baby, working full time from home and being beat down by the effects of chemotherapy? Then after a sleepless night I figured it out. BINGO! Quite literally...Bingo. You can do it sitting down, I would be the caller and the patients would just have to mark a square on a piece of paper, then I could hand out prizes to whoever won - BUT my oncologist didn't think that was such a great idea. So on to idea number two...I'd just give out prizes...awards for just being alive, for being a fighter. For taking our chemo medicine and for living one more day. We should be rewarded just for being strong enough to be a survivor. And so that's what I did for the entire 6 months I had my chemo treatments. I contacted local businesses on my 'good' days and drove around with my kids to pick up the donated prizes. We had gift certificates from Target, Home Depot, Red Robin, Great Harvest, Wendy's and more. People opened their hearts to my 'Do Good, Feel Better' project and gave freely. You should have seen the faces of the chemo patients on the first day of my treatment when I told them there were going to win prizes for being in the chemo room. It was so memorable. Some were shocked, some didn't want to participate (at first) but most welcomed the change.
As the months rolled on, a younger person than me entered the chemo room. He was 18 and had testicular cancer. He was quiet and shy at first, but after winning the prizes and interacting with the others in the room during 'prize time, he soon opened up and we all enjoyed his contributions to the conversations. The chemo room on Thursdays was the place to be - I'd hand out prizes, sing the occasional upbeat song to the patients and even got my favorite nurse, Daryl, to dance a jig. Many patients even changed their appointment times to be able to be there for the giveaways. Now in telling all this I don't want to portray someone who is bragging about what I did - or oooh look at me - I'm so wonderful. It's not that at all. What I want to get across is that good things can come from bad experiences if we are willing to open our hearts to others and share the goodness inside. I received FAR more than I ever gave away. I gained happiness, peace and the opportunity to live a longer life with my dear husband and children. Other friends in the chemo room weren't as fortunate and I've mourned losing them.
During my chemo experience my slogan has been 'Just Keep Swimming' taken from the song sung by Dori on the movie Finding Nemo. In life we all have to 'Just Keep Swimming' no matter what kinds of currents we face. No one is exempt from the difficulties of life and if you think the grass is greener on the other side you might want to double check because it's most likely artificial turf. We all have challenges to overcome - but by reaching out to help others, we find that our hands are open to receive what they have to share with us in return.
My chemo experience ended in November of 2007 but the memories and the friendships I made remain. Since then I've had a second mastectomy in Feb. of 08 and an ovary removed in June. I jokingly tell everyone they can now call me 'Jim' since I look more like a man every day. :) My battle continues but so does my determination to stay positive through this journey. It's not always easy and I admit that I've had my moments of utter grief and self pity, but I also have memories of those in the chemo room who had it much worse that I did and I remember to be grateful that I 'just' have breast cancer. I've seen worse.
To top off my experience, after I completed chemotherapy, my father was diagnosed with Stage 4 esophageal cancer. I can not explain the great blessing it is to be able to look my dad in the eyes and honestly say 'I completely understand what you're going through. I know the pain you'll feel and the thoughts that will roll through your mind. Dad, I'm here.' The role of caregiver has been reversed and I find that because of my cancer experience I am, once again, able to offer love, support and understanding to someone dear who's going through the cancer battle field.
Although I never want to endure chemo again, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. It has changed who I am. It made me a better person and forced me to choose what type of person I was going to be: Someone who helped, or someone who just hurt.
To those of you who have fought the fight and continue to win daily, look for others who need your love, support and understanding. You can offer so much because you know what it's really like and can offer true empathy. You can be a pillar of strength to those who are scared and down hearted.
For those of you who have just been diagnosed - don't worry - there are those who have gone before who can help you and although the time ahead will be a challenge - you can do it. You have more strength inside of you than you know and more people who love and will support you than you can imagine. It will be alright. You can get through this. Just keep swimming.
I'm currently in the process of tracking down a plastic surgeon I can trust to complete my reconstruction. So my journey continues. Looking like a 3 year old is only fun for so long...scratch that - it's never fun. But it's one of the last things that need to be completed before I'll feel like this part of my journey is coming to a close.
You asked us to share our greatest challenge and the interesting thing I've found, is that for me, my battle through breast cancer hasn't been dealing with the pain, lack of strength, or self image issues. The hardest thing for me to overcome has been guilt. I feel guilt due to the fact that I've created more debt for my family. Even if it was unintentional - the bills keep coming in and I'm the reason for it. Chemo leaves your body, your hair eventually grows back, the memories of the aches and pains fade - but the bills still have to be paid. Somehow.
BUT, as always, we do what we can, a little at a time, everyday until we reach our goal. We keep swimming and moving forward and we help others along the way. Together we survive.
All my Love!Ginger Johnson
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Georgia's Story
I was told I had Breast Cancer in Febuary 1988 at 31 years old with no family history. You name it & I have been though it or so it seems. I am a 20 year survivor & had hoped never to deal with this disease again. In Feb of 2007 my sister was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and it was just like I had it again. We did make it though everything again. My sister was diagnosed again this year at the end of July in the other breast with over 20 tumors with triple negative breast cancer this time. I have been so busy with her time has slipped by. I have tried to have things go differently for her with our family than how it was for me. Way back them no one really understood and it ways very hard for anyone to be around me. I know that it is very important to have a support system when dealing with life, death & illness. I have learned so much with all of this, like what is REALLY important in life. I always try to be there for my sister, to help and encourage her and to stay possitive. My whole family has been involed with my sister's medical out come & recovery. Right now her only option is chemo again for 3 months. I just helped remove what was left of h e r new head of hair. I am woking on some fund raisers for her as she can no longer work and with so very many medical bills she is just about to loose everything. I hate this. If I were a spokes person for survivors I would tell everyone that you must keep Faith & stay Positive...No matter what!! It's really the little things in life that make & keep you happy. I truly hope some day there is more finanical help for Breast Cancer Patients, as this is just 1 more worry for them. Sincerly, your surviving sister-Georgiap.s. wish I had more time to really share our story, but my time is ocuppied with and for my sister right now. I would give all the money to my sister to help releave some of her burdens.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Noreen's Story
What could I possibility write what has had not been written about Breast Cancer so many inspiring stories that that so many of us read and marvel at the person’s courage and strength. My story is a tale of to much reality it really isn’t all pink ribbons and races for the cure it’s about life long side effects from drugs that do allot of harm to our bodies, indifferent Doctors and hospitals the medical issues could go on and on. When you do recover from the cancer treatment society also throws many issues you way background checks that can pick up your illness if you haven’t worked a good bit of the time, no real help from job rehab every government and state agencies saying sorry I Can’t help you.
People who know about your illness, Yes folks I am one of those people who had had cancer more than once either didn’t want to look you in the eyes or they just broke down in tears. I can’t tell you how many old friends that I had to comfort. The funny thing when you are telling them you are ok they kind of want to believe you but they kind of don’t really. How could anyone not have doubts I had them myself, for to many people my illness was their worse nightmare, 37 is pretty young for Breast Cancer.
Later in my journey and talking with others in the breast cancer community I learned many get it even younger there is know certain age for breast cancer it really just isn’t your mother’s disease. The so called safety nets many in the medical community like to talk about like having children, not eating meat, exercising, and on and on don’t really make you immune. Talking with so many women in chat rooms and message boards you do find that out. They seemed betrayed they did all the things told to them still happened. My own thoughts were of course why me? What did I do to deserve this? As more and more things happened I still never got the answer to this.
What do you think when alot of the information doesn’t ring true you might ask? Well this is where the inter voice we all have comes in. I kind of call it a gift from the Creator of us all. I have found that through out my life this inter voice is my protector some would call it angel, the voice of God what ever you want to call it came early to me as you can read from my beginnings.
I was raised in the late sixties the daughter of a carpenter and a stay at home mom the youngest of 4 children. I was a cute Pixie like child who was quiet, imaginative. I dreamed of going to Africa and seeing the great cats. I loved Lions and loved to draw, and loved horses and playing with Barbie's. My sister and I were one year apart in age and shared a room in those early days in our innocence it would take decades to understand what we lived through.
Our father was a angry man, his background is one of violence against others began early in his life, fighting and stealing .He even tried the service for I guess some kind of control but even that didn’t work. This was a man who in his later years would cause such damage to the four children he gave birth to they would live with the scars for many years to come. I recall one event that is very clear still, my father was in a rage screaming and threatening all of us. Especially my mother she had decided to leave and we all went to get into the car. Running out of the house as the motor started came my father screaming at me I was on my mother’s side of the car (we had all the doors locked).He threaten to smash my window with his fist if I didn’t open the door. Now he and my mother started yelling at each other than his fist went throw the driver’s side window.
We all screamed in terror as the window broke into a million pieces. I remember my father stumbling away from the car into the house blood dripping everywhere. Then in our horror our mother gets out of the car and follows him into the house to see if he was ok. Well needless to say 4 children were deathly afraid that their mother was in the house getting killed, this fight was one example of many violent battles. When you are young you almost see your parents as immortal and the idea that one could turn on the other was just too much to handle. We were kids we couldn’t really fight back not like today child abuse really has come along way in 30 years. What I find strange to this day even in the early days I had a little spirit inside of me that could reason and look out for myself I knew something was wrong with him he just wasn’t right.
You might ask yourself what does this have to do with breast cancer? It took me allot of years to understand that even bad can prepare you In life for worst trails .You might think to yourself how much worst can it get than having cancer more than once and a not very good childhood. Well the good news is that my father took of for parts unknown when I was 12. I went to high school and some college and married a great guy. I worked in a factory and retail management for allots of years before my cancer. I was restless never seemed to settle down really we bought a house raised Siberian huskies we choose not to have children. The eighties and nineties were expensive times to live it took every bit of our money to keep our modest home going. We always knew that we loved each other (still do) we worked hard and it seemed to be never enough.
So many broken children grow up to be broken adults they go through their lives never understanding why they do the things that they do. So many of us can’t figure out why things happen too us and why can’t we can’t just enjoy life. For some of us it takes unbelievable changes to wake us! Cancer certainly can do that, it wakes you and shakes you and throws you against the wall. God certainly comes into play here let face it folks chemo is not really a cure but it is the best we have for now. Praying sure does help I had people of all faiths praying for me I figured that everything helps. I had so many warm wishes and kind words it did kind of surprise me. Personally I wasn’t the type of hugging emotional person that alot of people are if you knew me you knew. I was a very good friend.
I wasn’t fake just a bit reserved but kind and good to all. Cancer did change my personality some I would do the things I would never normally do. One funny story was I was doing an art show (yes folks I found My art again) that’s what I went to school for. Now the a woman in the booth near us was walking around this is common in art shows before the customers come in allot of vendors network with others find out about shows etc. Our new friend seemed really upset and than she blurred out to me that she didn’t know why but she just felt she had to tell me about her possible breast cancer diagnose. She was waiting for biopsy results now whether it was divine or not I couldn’t really know for sure. I told her my story of more than one cancer and having stage three cancer and being a survivor at the time of 5 years. We talked I think she felt a little better I gave her a hug and my phone number and told her to call me if she wasn’t ok but and happily she never called me so I am guessing she was ok.
But just chance meetings like that with people now seem to fill my life. I would never have done than before cancer did I care about for people yes more than most but I never would have given of myself so easily. When for a lot of years of your life you emotions are going all over the place you never trust them and you kind of don’t feel the way you should when things happen, this will be true when the cancer rx comes.Now remembering the beginnings of my treatment what could I say about the day? When I was told it was a sad day and believe it or not folks I was told over the phone and than it was the call to the family surgeon. Now what can I say about this man he is a wonderful person I knew him since I was 12 it couldn’t have been easy for him he knew my whole family and my mother worked for friends of his. Now stage 3 cancer is not a good Rx when your surgeon comes to sit on your hospital bed you say to yourself Boy am I in trouble! It seemed so unreal like one of those sad movies on Lifetime TV where the woman is brave and everyone cries. I wasn’t that noble I was mad! He wasn’t going to tell me I was going die!
I want to talk little about stem cell transplants the science was supposedly there that this was a good thing for people to do with not good outcomes. A lot of the doctors don’t tell you that you have a high percentage of not making it through the transplant (this is dangerous stuff). Kind of you have to risk your life so you don’t die of cancer later. Either way you could die talk about your no win situation, what a decision to make. Alot of times I held my breath like a swimmer would jumping off a diving board and take the plunge. Well after 16 days in the hospital and 3 pints of blood later I went home to recover, gain strength and get radiation (and of course go bald again after the stem cell), chemo for 7 days does make you lose your hair again. I certainly understand why men don’t like to get bald. But for men it is sexy, for us women our heads look newborns all grown up. Yes, Wigs are available but have you ever really tried on a wig? I still think wigs are for certain people not all. Trendy gals who love to change their look and don’t have to draw on eyebrows and lashes and have a pale look to there skin no matter how much makeup.
Radiation was an interesting thing to go through you kind of went so is this it? After all the treatments from chemo to surgery this treatment kind of fools you the burns came after about a month and hurt till I was done of course they give you cream but that was about the only thing they did for it. It was more time consuming more than anything was. Meetings with social workers took on an interesting twist Have you ever been told you were too strong? Till this day I never understood that ! My husband had the good sense to look at this person and ask what do you want her to do? Sit in the bed and cry all day? So please know that everyone is different none should tell you how you should feel. What could I do I had so much to deal with besides my own illness Looking back God had to be watching out for me that all I can say about it, if not I think the stress alone would have done most people in.
Other family were also fighting cancer I called them and myself the circle of three. My husband and myself have been in more hospitals in the tri-state area than most. Need to know where a lab is? Is we it a good chance we knew .At least during those years other members of my family could find the right medical offices if they needed to. I became a huge warehouse of cancer knowledge. Between me and the other two members of the circle of three we had 4 different types of cancer not including another 2 family members that would get cancer later. All together I could tell you lot about 6 different types of cancer. All this knowledge was really something I could do without
The emotions of the next couple of years seeing the end for extended family members on my husband’s side was another kind of personal hell that seemed to come my way. When you understand how they feel and you know the end is coming for them and by grace of God that could be you. How are you suppose to feel? I wished so many times for remission for them both prayed made bargains with God to no avail. I could see in their faces they hung on my every word I understood their pain their fight to stay alive. If I told them it was ok it would be ok. A lot times I would lie folks not to be cruel but to give them hope. Then other members of my extended family would get some form of cancer in coming years. I found myself not only dealing with my own cancer but some many others each with different feelings and side effects of their own.
My circle of 3 is now just me, the other two members fought so hard they would want me to go on and live a good life they know where ever they are they weren’t forgotten they have a place in my heart like so many that pass from us. They would want their story to be known they are your fathers your mother’s sisters and brothers average people who lived a quiet, life, good people, who worked hard but left the world to soon for us all.
Life does go on I look back on all the things that happened some good and not so good and wonder what has come from it all. As most spiritual people would tell you God doesn’t give us nothing we can’t handle. Well folks I have had my share and half the town’s share. Writing this almost 8 years later I can recall how I knew the very first day that I was going to fight this off. I have been somewhat successful though I did have a problem with uterine Cancer but I had a good outcome with that too. So many of us get the news you have cancer and we have the choice to fight it off the best we can.
I always thought of my Cancer as liking to the Civil War. Brother again brother so to speak your body fighting off the great evil cells that turned on the good cells. I remember once talking with an artist friend who ask me once this question“ What would I paint on a cast of my body? (She did sculpture) My answer was the battle of Gettysburg because a great emotional and physical battle was fought there. The battle was the turning of the war for the north and the end of a horrible time in history where Americans fought against each other. . I do pray for my own tide in my war, my tide is do, the little spirit in me needs to go on vacation she has been through allot. Well as I end this piece I limp into the sunset bruised, scarred but beaten never beaten just wiser bout life.
People who know about your illness, Yes folks I am one of those people who had had cancer more than once either didn’t want to look you in the eyes or they just broke down in tears. I can’t tell you how many old friends that I had to comfort. The funny thing when you are telling them you are ok they kind of want to believe you but they kind of don’t really. How could anyone not have doubts I had them myself, for to many people my illness was their worse nightmare, 37 is pretty young for Breast Cancer.
Later in my journey and talking with others in the breast cancer community I learned many get it even younger there is know certain age for breast cancer it really just isn’t your mother’s disease. The so called safety nets many in the medical community like to talk about like having children, not eating meat, exercising, and on and on don’t really make you immune. Talking with so many women in chat rooms and message boards you do find that out. They seemed betrayed they did all the things told to them still happened. My own thoughts were of course why me? What did I do to deserve this? As more and more things happened I still never got the answer to this.
What do you think when alot of the information doesn’t ring true you might ask? Well this is where the inter voice we all have comes in. I kind of call it a gift from the Creator of us all. I have found that through out my life this inter voice is my protector some would call it angel, the voice of God what ever you want to call it came early to me as you can read from my beginnings.
I was raised in the late sixties the daughter of a carpenter and a stay at home mom the youngest of 4 children. I was a cute Pixie like child who was quiet, imaginative. I dreamed of going to Africa and seeing the great cats. I loved Lions and loved to draw, and loved horses and playing with Barbie's. My sister and I were one year apart in age and shared a room in those early days in our innocence it would take decades to understand what we lived through.
Our father was a angry man, his background is one of violence against others began early in his life, fighting and stealing .He even tried the service for I guess some kind of control but even that didn’t work. This was a man who in his later years would cause such damage to the four children he gave birth to they would live with the scars for many years to come. I recall one event that is very clear still, my father was in a rage screaming and threatening all of us. Especially my mother she had decided to leave and we all went to get into the car. Running out of the house as the motor started came my father screaming at me I was on my mother’s side of the car (we had all the doors locked).He threaten to smash my window with his fist if I didn’t open the door. Now he and my mother started yelling at each other than his fist went throw the driver’s side window.
We all screamed in terror as the window broke into a million pieces. I remember my father stumbling away from the car into the house blood dripping everywhere. Then in our horror our mother gets out of the car and follows him into the house to see if he was ok. Well needless to say 4 children were deathly afraid that their mother was in the house getting killed, this fight was one example of many violent battles. When you are young you almost see your parents as immortal and the idea that one could turn on the other was just too much to handle. We were kids we couldn’t really fight back not like today child abuse really has come along way in 30 years. What I find strange to this day even in the early days I had a little spirit inside of me that could reason and look out for myself I knew something was wrong with him he just wasn’t right.
You might ask yourself what does this have to do with breast cancer? It took me allot of years to understand that even bad can prepare you In life for worst trails .You might think to yourself how much worst can it get than having cancer more than once and a not very good childhood. Well the good news is that my father took of for parts unknown when I was 12. I went to high school and some college and married a great guy. I worked in a factory and retail management for allots of years before my cancer. I was restless never seemed to settle down really we bought a house raised Siberian huskies we choose not to have children. The eighties and nineties were expensive times to live it took every bit of our money to keep our modest home going. We always knew that we loved each other (still do) we worked hard and it seemed to be never enough.
So many broken children grow up to be broken adults they go through their lives never understanding why they do the things that they do. So many of us can’t figure out why things happen too us and why can’t we can’t just enjoy life. For some of us it takes unbelievable changes to wake us! Cancer certainly can do that, it wakes you and shakes you and throws you against the wall. God certainly comes into play here let face it folks chemo is not really a cure but it is the best we have for now. Praying sure does help I had people of all faiths praying for me I figured that everything helps. I had so many warm wishes and kind words it did kind of surprise me. Personally I wasn’t the type of hugging emotional person that alot of people are if you knew me you knew. I was a very good friend.
I wasn’t fake just a bit reserved but kind and good to all. Cancer did change my personality some I would do the things I would never normally do. One funny story was I was doing an art show (yes folks I found My art again) that’s what I went to school for. Now the a woman in the booth near us was walking around this is common in art shows before the customers come in allot of vendors network with others find out about shows etc. Our new friend seemed really upset and than she blurred out to me that she didn’t know why but she just felt she had to tell me about her possible breast cancer diagnose. She was waiting for biopsy results now whether it was divine or not I couldn’t really know for sure. I told her my story of more than one cancer and having stage three cancer and being a survivor at the time of 5 years. We talked I think she felt a little better I gave her a hug and my phone number and told her to call me if she wasn’t ok but and happily she never called me so I am guessing she was ok.
But just chance meetings like that with people now seem to fill my life. I would never have done than before cancer did I care about for people yes more than most but I never would have given of myself so easily. When for a lot of years of your life you emotions are going all over the place you never trust them and you kind of don’t feel the way you should when things happen, this will be true when the cancer rx comes.Now remembering the beginnings of my treatment what could I say about the day? When I was told it was a sad day and believe it or not folks I was told over the phone and than it was the call to the family surgeon. Now what can I say about this man he is a wonderful person I knew him since I was 12 it couldn’t have been easy for him he knew my whole family and my mother worked for friends of his. Now stage 3 cancer is not a good Rx when your surgeon comes to sit on your hospital bed you say to yourself Boy am I in trouble! It seemed so unreal like one of those sad movies on Lifetime TV where the woman is brave and everyone cries. I wasn’t that noble I was mad! He wasn’t going to tell me I was going die!
I want to talk little about stem cell transplants the science was supposedly there that this was a good thing for people to do with not good outcomes. A lot of the doctors don’t tell you that you have a high percentage of not making it through the transplant (this is dangerous stuff). Kind of you have to risk your life so you don’t die of cancer later. Either way you could die talk about your no win situation, what a decision to make. Alot of times I held my breath like a swimmer would jumping off a diving board and take the plunge. Well after 16 days in the hospital and 3 pints of blood later I went home to recover, gain strength and get radiation (and of course go bald again after the stem cell), chemo for 7 days does make you lose your hair again. I certainly understand why men don’t like to get bald. But for men it is sexy, for us women our heads look newborns all grown up. Yes, Wigs are available but have you ever really tried on a wig? I still think wigs are for certain people not all. Trendy gals who love to change their look and don’t have to draw on eyebrows and lashes and have a pale look to there skin no matter how much makeup.
Radiation was an interesting thing to go through you kind of went so is this it? After all the treatments from chemo to surgery this treatment kind of fools you the burns came after about a month and hurt till I was done of course they give you cream but that was about the only thing they did for it. It was more time consuming more than anything was. Meetings with social workers took on an interesting twist Have you ever been told you were too strong? Till this day I never understood that ! My husband had the good sense to look at this person and ask what do you want her to do? Sit in the bed and cry all day? So please know that everyone is different none should tell you how you should feel. What could I do I had so much to deal with besides my own illness Looking back God had to be watching out for me that all I can say about it, if not I think the stress alone would have done most people in.
Other family were also fighting cancer I called them and myself the circle of three. My husband and myself have been in more hospitals in the tri-state area than most. Need to know where a lab is? Is we it a good chance we knew .At least during those years other members of my family could find the right medical offices if they needed to. I became a huge warehouse of cancer knowledge. Between me and the other two members of the circle of three we had 4 different types of cancer not including another 2 family members that would get cancer later. All together I could tell you lot about 6 different types of cancer. All this knowledge was really something I could do without
The emotions of the next couple of years seeing the end for extended family members on my husband’s side was another kind of personal hell that seemed to come my way. When you understand how they feel and you know the end is coming for them and by grace of God that could be you. How are you suppose to feel? I wished so many times for remission for them both prayed made bargains with God to no avail. I could see in their faces they hung on my every word I understood their pain their fight to stay alive. If I told them it was ok it would be ok. A lot times I would lie folks not to be cruel but to give them hope. Then other members of my extended family would get some form of cancer in coming years. I found myself not only dealing with my own cancer but some many others each with different feelings and side effects of their own.
My circle of 3 is now just me, the other two members fought so hard they would want me to go on and live a good life they know where ever they are they weren’t forgotten they have a place in my heart like so many that pass from us. They would want their story to be known they are your fathers your mother’s sisters and brothers average people who lived a quiet, life, good people, who worked hard but left the world to soon for us all.
Life does go on I look back on all the things that happened some good and not so good and wonder what has come from it all. As most spiritual people would tell you God doesn’t give us nothing we can’t handle. Well folks I have had my share and half the town’s share. Writing this almost 8 years later I can recall how I knew the very first day that I was going to fight this off. I have been somewhat successful though I did have a problem with uterine Cancer but I had a good outcome with that too. So many of us get the news you have cancer and we have the choice to fight it off the best we can.
I always thought of my Cancer as liking to the Civil War. Brother again brother so to speak your body fighting off the great evil cells that turned on the good cells. I remember once talking with an artist friend who ask me once this question“ What would I paint on a cast of my body? (She did sculpture) My answer was the battle of Gettysburg because a great emotional and physical battle was fought there. The battle was the turning of the war for the north and the end of a horrible time in history where Americans fought against each other. . I do pray for my own tide in my war, my tide is do, the little spirit in me needs to go on vacation she has been through allot. Well as I end this piece I limp into the sunset bruised, scarred but beaten never beaten just wiser bout life.
Shelley's Story
My story began October of 1999 as I was breast feeding my 9 month old son. The lump around the end of my nipple just didn't feel like the normal clogged milk duct; however I still didn't get to uptight about it. I took my son in for his 9 month check up and just asked the doctor to check it out while I was there. He felt it and felt confident that it too was a clogged milk duck and that I shouldn't worry. I will forever be grateful to him for acting on the side of caution as he said since you are here lets do a needle aspiration. I agreed and he assured me that if he could guess 999 possibilites, cancer would be the 1000 posibility. The needle aspiration drew no fluid, but again he assured me all would be fine, but again acting on the side of caution sent me down to have a biopsy. The next day I was hit with the life changing news that I had breast cancer. I felt like I had just been hit with a ton of bricks. I was the epitimy of health. I had no history of breast cancer in my family. I was 36 years old. I was a farm girl/teacher who worked hard on the farm, exercised daily, cooked all my meals from scratch, and had a strong belief in God. How could this happen to me? The rest happened all very quickly. I was sent to the best oncology doctor in the state and together we devised a plan. I agreed to do a study where I would take 4 rounds of chemo, have a total masectamy, and follow up with another 4 rounds of chemo. Following my chemo, I would have 36 radiation treatments. My oncologist told me that he would have to make me really really sick to make me really really better. I put my trust in him and my faith in God and set off on this unplanned journey. I feel I have truely been brushed with death, and have come out a winner. This journey has definately changed my life. I was determined from the get go, that I was a fighter, and I was going to win this battle. I quickly put aside the tears, "why me," and anger, and turned it around and said "why not me." I am going to win this battle and be a witness to others. I was teaching high school and coaching basketball, and chose to keep it up. I missed about 5 days of school during my enitre time of treatment. I had 3 children, a wonderful husband, and a supporting family, that never lets obsticles get in our way. I have been taught to fight them head on. There were days I felt horrible, but I would make myself get up and go to work, I didn't want to lay around and feel miserable. I learned real quickly how powerful your mind is. By going to work and coaching and being around kids, my days of yuck, were less because I choose to fight those days head on. I am not one to lie around thinking about how bad I feel. During my treatments I would sit in the waiting room; the youngest in the room, and people would marvel at my determination and my spirit. I volunteered counseling to others and found it as a great form of healing. The cancer center even had me make a DVD of my testamony that they show to all newly diagnoised patients to deliver hope to them. It is amazing the people I have met that recognize me from the DVD and say "your that girl on the cancer DVD." I surrounded myself with poitive people, positive thoughts, and never doubted that I wasn't going to win this battle. After I lost my hair, I continued to play pick-up basketball games with my players choosing to wear a stocking hat. My wig was saved for all other times; I did have to watch out for the Kansas winds as it made for a bad hair day when it would pratically blow off my head. My kids have learned what philanthropy is and means. They too have been so positive and supportive. As a family they all join me in "The Race For the Cure, The East-West Run, and The Race for Life. The have a deeper understanding of what it means to reach out to others. My daughters are members of Friendship Club; a club that has all special need students as they enjoy helping others and are not afraid to help that less fortunate child. I have learned that YOU have the choice to either fight the fight or give into the fight. You can either have your glass half full or half empty. I have always been a competitor, but I am even a strong one today. I was asked to be the captain of the Victory In The Valley East-West run and got over 200 kids from my high school to come out and support the run. It was the greatest feeling ever having all those cheering kids encouraging you as you come across the finish line. I still continue to work out and run daily and have made it my personal witness plan to always wear my pink "I am a survivor" t-shirt. Every day I have it on. It is a reminder to me as to where I have come from and how fortunate and thankful that I am every day. It also sends a message to all I meet and see that there are winners from people who have been diagnosed with cancer and you too can overcome the odds. It stops many people and brings great conversation from alot of people. I am also a walking testamony to my students as I preach to them the importance of monthly self examinations. Cancer is not the end of your lifes journey. I looked at it as a detour; an unexpected road that is less traveled. However my mission to others is for them to see the road they are traveling is paved and has been traveled unfortunatley by many, and they too have won the fight and are moving on down the road. I believe God had a plan for me to be this witness to others and this is the way he had to get through to me. I would tell others that cancer can't take away my desire to live, my faith, my spirit, my determination, my family, but it can make me a stronger person, a witness to others and a strong believer that good things happen for a reason. I am happy to report that I am 7 1/2 years cancer free and have had no reaccurance. I am on a new study and have 2 1/2 years left of taking Femara. I like knowing that I a helping fight the fight for others so that they don't have to go down the road I traveled. I still have the pair of ruby shoes that a friend sent me reminding me of the magic that not only will I live, I will thrive.
Teri's Story
I was diagnosed with breast cancer on November 30, 2006 at the age of 37. I was totally shocked as I was relatively young, very fit and healthy and didn’t fit the profile of any of the typical breast cancer risk factors. I had found a lump in my left breast in September, but I was nursing my sixth baby and didn’t think too much about it. Nursing makes things lumpy. By mid October the same lump was still there and my husband and I decided that I had better get it checked out. The first available appointment was on November 3. That began the chain of appointments and tests that led to my diagnosis. I had a biopsy on November 22nd just before Thanksgiving. Since it was a long holiday weekend I wasn’t able to get the results for several days. I started to get the feeling by the way my questions were not being answered over the phone that the news wasn’t good. I met with my doctor and he told me that I had breast cancer.
My mom had already been battling inflammatory breast cancer for 18 months when I received my diagnosis. She had already completed chemotherapy, radiation, and a mastectomy of her left breast only to discover the cancer had spread to her liver. Now we were both being treated for cancer. Having just watched her go through the process of what I would now be facing myself gave me courage as I felt I didn’t have to be so afraid of the unknown. Two of my husband’s sisters and his mother had also recently been treated for breast cancer as well. But with me being the mother of a large family of six young children, ages ranging from 17 years to 16 months, my attitude was “I don’t have time for this, I need to be taking care of my family.” Also, just the thought of possibly not being around to raise my children broke my heart. I couldn’t stand the thought of my 16-month old not remembering who her mommy was, or not being around for all of the events in their lives – the first day of school, snuggling in a chair while reading books, discovering the world, play dough, dating, picking out prom dresses and wedding dresses, staying up late into the night talking and laughing about nothing at all, watching my boys get taller than me, playing sports, driver’s licences, watching them grow into adults to see who they become – I didn’t want to miss a minute of all of the things we love to do together. I was determined to get through this. I prayed and prayed for courage and strength.
December was filled with doctor visits and many tests to determine the severity of my cancer. My amazing husband was there supporting me through each visit. We had “fun” picking out a wig together. I tried all sorts of different colors and hair styles and ended up with a nice wig similar to my hair style at the time. I was setting up a schedule for surgery when my PET scan results came back. It reveled that the cancer was “locally advanced” and had spread through the left side of my chest, into several lymph nodes, and was starting to infiltrate the pectoral muscle and a spot on my thyroid. That was a day filled with tears. The plan was changed by my doctors to start chemotherapy first in hopes of stopping the cancer from spreading further and shrinking the tumor to make it easier for the surgeon to do her job. I had a port-a-cath placed in my chest on the December 19th, and my oncologist wanted to start chemotherapy the same day. Luckily I was very sick from the anesthesia and couldn’t start my treatment that day. This allowed me to spend a wonderful Christmas with my family before starting chemotherapy.
On December 28th I had my first chemotherapy treatment. I was scared but still determined to be a good patient and try to follow all of the instructions of my doctor. Unfortunately, the chemo was just as determined as I was and I ended up very sick, but after a few days I was able to get out of bed and do my best to try and resume normal life. I found that after each treatment I would spend a couple of days being very sick, and then I would slowly recover and could resume a semi-normal life until the next treatment. The time it took to recover after each treatment grew longer (I’ll spare you the details), but I discovered that I could still be happy even though I felt totally miserable. I was able to find something to be grateful for every day.
My hair started falling out on schedule. The good news was I didn’t have to shave my legs anymore. The day after my second treatment my grandmother died. The funeral was six days later and I felt good enough to attend. Her funeral was my first attempt to wear my wig. I felt like I had a big bearskin cap on my head, but I didn’t want to go without it.
Sixteen week and eight treatments later, on April 9th, I received my last chemo treatment. Yippe! The PET scan results after chemo came back as “All identified sites of tumor have resolved. No new or residual masses are identified.” Chemotherapy had virtually wiped out the cancer! But this wasn’t the end. I still had surgery and radiation to go. I escaped with my husband for a short trip to the beach in San Diego before phase II of my treatment began.
Due to severity of my cancer I knew I would be having a mastectomy, but with my now known genetic risk factors my surgeon and oncologist both recommended a double mastectomy as a preventative measure. My husband and I decided this was the right thing to do, so we reluctantly decided to have this procedure done, and on May 22nd I had my surgery. My surgeons did an amazing job!
Recovering from surgery was very slow, painful and frustrating. I remember laying in the hospital bed after surgery and the nurse told me to press the button if I needed any thing. I couldn’t move my arms to reach the button. I needed help with everything. It took a lot of work to get function and strength back in my arms. After chemo and surgery I felt like I had been run over (several times) by a truck and left for dead. However, I gained appreciation for the fact that I would heal and be able to use my arms again. There are many people in the world who live every day with pain or permanent damage to their bodies with no hope of relief.
One month after surgery it was time to start radiation. I admit I had a grumpy attitude and wasn’t mentally or physically ready to take on any more punishment. I still couldn’t lie down or sit up easily by myself. Gratefully, I did very well with radiation, and getting on and off the table every day was good therapy for my healing body. After I was done feeling sorry for myself I was filled with determination again to get back to where I was before surgery. I kept my toddler daughter’s sippy cups on the top shelf so I would have to reach for them. I put tape marks on the wall and would try to reach higher every day.
After surgery my pre- and post-chemo tissue biopsy came back with conflicting ER and HER2 results, so my oncologist recommended that, just to be safe, I have infusions of Herceptin for the next two years. This was a big psychological setback as I thought I was just about to cross the finish line. But now, it would be back to being a pincushion. As I sit in the infusion room now receiving my Herceptin treatments I have a totally different perspective and have to hold back the tears as I watch a new cancer patient come in for his/ her first chemo treatment. Sometimes we share stories and I try to give words of encouragement and hope. I am glad that I can be an example to some of theses patients of someone who has made it through and can be living proof that there is hope, health and happiness at the other end of the tunnel.
Unfortunately, as I regained my health and strength, my mom’s health declined. The cancer that had spread to her liver was inoperable and she wasn’t responding well to medications. She died on September 16, 2007 due to liver failure caused by the spread of breast cancer to her liver. I attended one more funeral wearing my wig.S
ince completing my treatments I’ve had two more surgeries. The first was an oophorectomy to remove my ovaries as a preventative measure against ovarian cancer. This surgery was easy and I felt great after just a few days. The second surgery was to complete breast reconstruction and exchange the tissue expanders put in during my mastectomy surgery for permanent implants. This was also an easy surgery and things felt so much better after the expanders were removed. Once again my surgeons did an amazing job.
These past months I have hit several one-year anniversaries cancer free. My life has been spared and I am so grateful for each day I get to spend with my family. I can’t thank my family and friends enough for their outpouring of love and support during my treatments. They brought meals for my family, did stacks of laundry, took my car pool shifts, prayed for my recovery, sat with me during treatments, and entertained and cared for my kids so I could rest. My oldest two daughters stepped up and took care of so many things at home while my husband was at work. My friends that I played basketball every week had jerseys made with “Teri’s Team” and a cancer ribbon printed on each one to show their support while I was gone.
I can never repay those who helped me, but hopefully I can pass it on and help someone else in need. I had the example of those who sat in the infusion room with me and shared words of comfort and encouragement. I discovered that attitude is everything. You can be happy when things are down right miserable because there is always something to be grateful for. You just have to be willing to look.. Now, each day while I am exercising I think to myself “You’re not going to steal my life from me today - NOT TODAY!!! I am a survivor!!!”
My mom had already been battling inflammatory breast cancer for 18 months when I received my diagnosis. She had already completed chemotherapy, radiation, and a mastectomy of her left breast only to discover the cancer had spread to her liver. Now we were both being treated for cancer. Having just watched her go through the process of what I would now be facing myself gave me courage as I felt I didn’t have to be so afraid of the unknown. Two of my husband’s sisters and his mother had also recently been treated for breast cancer as well. But with me being the mother of a large family of six young children, ages ranging from 17 years to 16 months, my attitude was “I don’t have time for this, I need to be taking care of my family.” Also, just the thought of possibly not being around to raise my children broke my heart. I couldn’t stand the thought of my 16-month old not remembering who her mommy was, or not being around for all of the events in their lives – the first day of school, snuggling in a chair while reading books, discovering the world, play dough, dating, picking out prom dresses and wedding dresses, staying up late into the night talking and laughing about nothing at all, watching my boys get taller than me, playing sports, driver’s licences, watching them grow into adults to see who they become – I didn’t want to miss a minute of all of the things we love to do together. I was determined to get through this. I prayed and prayed for courage and strength.
December was filled with doctor visits and many tests to determine the severity of my cancer. My amazing husband was there supporting me through each visit. We had “fun” picking out a wig together. I tried all sorts of different colors and hair styles and ended up with a nice wig similar to my hair style at the time. I was setting up a schedule for surgery when my PET scan results came back. It reveled that the cancer was “locally advanced” and had spread through the left side of my chest, into several lymph nodes, and was starting to infiltrate the pectoral muscle and a spot on my thyroid. That was a day filled with tears. The plan was changed by my doctors to start chemotherapy first in hopes of stopping the cancer from spreading further and shrinking the tumor to make it easier for the surgeon to do her job. I had a port-a-cath placed in my chest on the December 19th, and my oncologist wanted to start chemotherapy the same day. Luckily I was very sick from the anesthesia and couldn’t start my treatment that day. This allowed me to spend a wonderful Christmas with my family before starting chemotherapy.
On December 28th I had my first chemotherapy treatment. I was scared but still determined to be a good patient and try to follow all of the instructions of my doctor. Unfortunately, the chemo was just as determined as I was and I ended up very sick, but after a few days I was able to get out of bed and do my best to try and resume normal life. I found that after each treatment I would spend a couple of days being very sick, and then I would slowly recover and could resume a semi-normal life until the next treatment. The time it took to recover after each treatment grew longer (I’ll spare you the details), but I discovered that I could still be happy even though I felt totally miserable. I was able to find something to be grateful for every day.
My hair started falling out on schedule. The good news was I didn’t have to shave my legs anymore. The day after my second treatment my grandmother died. The funeral was six days later and I felt good enough to attend. Her funeral was my first attempt to wear my wig. I felt like I had a big bearskin cap on my head, but I didn’t want to go without it.
Sixteen week and eight treatments later, on April 9th, I received my last chemo treatment. Yippe! The PET scan results after chemo came back as “All identified sites of tumor have resolved. No new or residual masses are identified.” Chemotherapy had virtually wiped out the cancer! But this wasn’t the end. I still had surgery and radiation to go. I escaped with my husband for a short trip to the beach in San Diego before phase II of my treatment began.
Due to severity of my cancer I knew I would be having a mastectomy, but with my now known genetic risk factors my surgeon and oncologist both recommended a double mastectomy as a preventative measure. My husband and I decided this was the right thing to do, so we reluctantly decided to have this procedure done, and on May 22nd I had my surgery. My surgeons did an amazing job!
Recovering from surgery was very slow, painful and frustrating. I remember laying in the hospital bed after surgery and the nurse told me to press the button if I needed any thing. I couldn’t move my arms to reach the button. I needed help with everything. It took a lot of work to get function and strength back in my arms. After chemo and surgery I felt like I had been run over (several times) by a truck and left for dead. However, I gained appreciation for the fact that I would heal and be able to use my arms again. There are many people in the world who live every day with pain or permanent damage to their bodies with no hope of relief.
One month after surgery it was time to start radiation. I admit I had a grumpy attitude and wasn’t mentally or physically ready to take on any more punishment. I still couldn’t lie down or sit up easily by myself. Gratefully, I did very well with radiation, and getting on and off the table every day was good therapy for my healing body. After I was done feeling sorry for myself I was filled with determination again to get back to where I was before surgery. I kept my toddler daughter’s sippy cups on the top shelf so I would have to reach for them. I put tape marks on the wall and would try to reach higher every day.
After surgery my pre- and post-chemo tissue biopsy came back with conflicting ER and HER2 results, so my oncologist recommended that, just to be safe, I have infusions of Herceptin for the next two years. This was a big psychological setback as I thought I was just about to cross the finish line. But now, it would be back to being a pincushion. As I sit in the infusion room now receiving my Herceptin treatments I have a totally different perspective and have to hold back the tears as I watch a new cancer patient come in for his/ her first chemo treatment. Sometimes we share stories and I try to give words of encouragement and hope. I am glad that I can be an example to some of theses patients of someone who has made it through and can be living proof that there is hope, health and happiness at the other end of the tunnel.
Unfortunately, as I regained my health and strength, my mom’s health declined. The cancer that had spread to her liver was inoperable and she wasn’t responding well to medications. She died on September 16, 2007 due to liver failure caused by the spread of breast cancer to her liver. I attended one more funeral wearing my wig.S
ince completing my treatments I’ve had two more surgeries. The first was an oophorectomy to remove my ovaries as a preventative measure against ovarian cancer. This surgery was easy and I felt great after just a few days. The second surgery was to complete breast reconstruction and exchange the tissue expanders put in during my mastectomy surgery for permanent implants. This was also an easy surgery and things felt so much better after the expanders were removed. Once again my surgeons did an amazing job.
These past months I have hit several one-year anniversaries cancer free. My life has been spared and I am so grateful for each day I get to spend with my family. I can’t thank my family and friends enough for their outpouring of love and support during my treatments. They brought meals for my family, did stacks of laundry, took my car pool shifts, prayed for my recovery, sat with me during treatments, and entertained and cared for my kids so I could rest. My oldest two daughters stepped up and took care of so many things at home while my husband was at work. My friends that I played basketball every week had jerseys made with “Teri’s Team” and a cancer ribbon printed on each one to show their support while I was gone.
I can never repay those who helped me, but hopefully I can pass it on and help someone else in need. I had the example of those who sat in the infusion room with me and shared words of comfort and encouragement. I discovered that attitude is everything. You can be happy when things are down right miserable because there is always something to be grateful for. You just have to be willing to look.. Now, each day while I am exercising I think to myself “You’re not going to steal my life from me today - NOT TODAY!!! I am a survivor!!!”
Patricia's Story
My name is Patricia and I am very blessed! I am more aware than ever how important life really is to me. It was brought to my attention on April 24, 2007 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
What I consider a "miracle" actually happened about three weeks before, when my annual mammogram showed a tiny spot approximately 4mm X 6mm. After a second mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy, I was advised that I had infiltrating ductal carcenoma of the left breast and unclean margins. The tumor was very deep near the chest wall and I made the decision to have a modified radical mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. (To those of you who may be unaware, immediate translates to four surgeries over seven months.) The week waiting for the biopsy results had been one of the longest weeks in my life. Of course, I prayed that it wouldn't be cancer, but I mostly prayed for courage to face what was in store for me, for intuition told me to prepare for the worst. When my husband and I broke the news to our two grown children, all I could think of was that I was so glad it was me facing this callenge and not one of them. My family showed amazing strength; still I knew they worried. The next part of my miracle came when the surgeon gave me the news that my lymph nodes were clear! By finding the cancer early, it had not had a chance to spread, and going forward, tomoxifin was prescribed for five years, but no chemo or radiation! THAT is when I really first realized the importance of my regular check-ups and how fortunate I was. I wanted to run out of the hospital screaming for everyone to "hurry and get your mammograms! It can save your life!"
I decided this news was too important not to share with ohers, so I founded the non-profit group, The Dixie Connexion for Early Detection of Breast Cancer. There are 6 of us in the group including me, my daughter and four of my closest friends. Our goal is to "share the word" with the public about the importance of early detection. We also provide an area hospital and breast cancer clinic with small post-op pillows for breast cancer patients. We have done well with our fundraisers and also visit new patients in the hospital, taking them a care package with various breast cancer awareness items. This year we started the Dixie Connexion Champions survivor group which meets once a month through October. We are also participating as a team in the upcoming ACS 5K walk October 18th. The breast cancer survivors that attend our group really are Champions! They have endured all sorts of surgeries, treatements, fear and pain and sitll have a positive attitude. Their strength is contagious! I have enjoyed so much being able to share the stories of our experiences and the outpouring of support is amazing.
Since being diagnosed, I have come to realize the power of knowledge and prayer through one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I believe that surviving has given me a second chance to "connect" with the world and my family and I am forever grateful for that chance. The roses smell a little sweeter and the sunsets more vivid. I think of it as though we survivors have a little bit of an "edge" on everyone else!
The message that I like to pass on to any of my new breast cancer friends is, "You have already found courage; take one day at a time as you move forward to finding acceptance, peace and joy in each day, and the faith and strength to "Never, Never, Never, Never give up!" Thank you for allowing me to share my story.
What I consider a "miracle" actually happened about three weeks before, when my annual mammogram showed a tiny spot approximately 4mm X 6mm. After a second mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy, I was advised that I had infiltrating ductal carcenoma of the left breast and unclean margins. The tumor was very deep near the chest wall and I made the decision to have a modified radical mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. (To those of you who may be unaware, immediate translates to four surgeries over seven months.) The week waiting for the biopsy results had been one of the longest weeks in my life. Of course, I prayed that it wouldn't be cancer, but I mostly prayed for courage to face what was in store for me, for intuition told me to prepare for the worst. When my husband and I broke the news to our two grown children, all I could think of was that I was so glad it was me facing this callenge and not one of them. My family showed amazing strength; still I knew they worried. The next part of my miracle came when the surgeon gave me the news that my lymph nodes were clear! By finding the cancer early, it had not had a chance to spread, and going forward, tomoxifin was prescribed for five years, but no chemo or radiation! THAT is when I really first realized the importance of my regular check-ups and how fortunate I was. I wanted to run out of the hospital screaming for everyone to "hurry and get your mammograms! It can save your life!"
I decided this news was too important not to share with ohers, so I founded the non-profit group, The Dixie Connexion for Early Detection of Breast Cancer. There are 6 of us in the group including me, my daughter and four of my closest friends. Our goal is to "share the word" with the public about the importance of early detection. We also provide an area hospital and breast cancer clinic with small post-op pillows for breast cancer patients. We have done well with our fundraisers and also visit new patients in the hospital, taking them a care package with various breast cancer awareness items. This year we started the Dixie Connexion Champions survivor group which meets once a month through October. We are also participating as a team in the upcoming ACS 5K walk October 18th. The breast cancer survivors that attend our group really are Champions! They have endured all sorts of surgeries, treatements, fear and pain and sitll have a positive attitude. Their strength is contagious! I have enjoyed so much being able to share the stories of our experiences and the outpouring of support is amazing.
Since being diagnosed, I have come to realize the power of knowledge and prayer through one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I believe that surviving has given me a second chance to "connect" with the world and my family and I am forever grateful for that chance. The roses smell a little sweeter and the sunsets more vivid. I think of it as though we survivors have a little bit of an "edge" on everyone else!
The message that I like to pass on to any of my new breast cancer friends is, "You have already found courage; take one day at a time as you move forward to finding acceptance, peace and joy in each day, and the faith and strength to "Never, Never, Never, Never give up!" Thank you for allowing me to share my story.
Sue's Story
The day Hurricane Rita hit Southeast Texas is the day time stood still. Suddenly, no one had to be anywhere, anytime soon. All appointments, scheduled events, plans became moot.
However, some of us found ourselves with a little more to deal with than just the conditions of our homes and businesses.
My home received about six inches of water, so we tore out the carpet and laminate flooring. We also cut the drywall from the floor to two feet up and tore it out. The mess was appalling. The process of filing insurance claims is demanding, and without air conditioning, telephone service or gas to drive anywhere, I most certainly felt overwhelmed.
About two weeks after the storm, I was showering. I discovered a lump in my breast. Interestingly and ironically, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and under normal conditions, I would have had no problem finding a way to get a mammogram, with or without insurance.
I didn't have insurance and since that time, many friends and even strangers have asked me how I managed to find the great care I ultimately received. This is as good an opportunity as any other to encourage people not to despair and to ponder whether or not there really is a healthcare crisis in our country.
In my case, I was employed part time at a small museum as the curator. My decision to work part time was well considered and is what prevents many people from receiving benefits like health insurance. However, I took the risk believing that as a single mother of a son with no father, I needed to be as available to him as possible. I also used my spare time to finish a degree I had started years ago. I graduated in August with a bachelor of fine arts, a month before the hurricane.
I made an appointment with East Houston Regional Hospital for a mammogram. The mammogram didn't show anything unusual, but because a lump could clearly be felt, they performed an ultrasound, which did show what appeared to be a suspicious mass. I was advised by the hospital's doctor to seek further tests. The bill totaled about $200. Very reasonable, I thought.
Next I decided to research all my options, because I was somehow sure there were some. The first thing to be determined is if I qualified for indigent health care. Hardin County Indigent Healthcare Services representative Donna Miller described their purpose."We are a state mandated, county funded healthcare program for people with little or no income," she said. "We are similar to Medicaid because we contract with local physicians and pharmacies. We do not treat minors, only adults."Eligibility is determined by the Federal Poverty Guidelines established each year.
I learned I didn't qualify for the County's assistance, so I applied for assistance directly with the University of Texas Medical Branch Galveston. At my level of income, they answered in a letter, I would qualify for 50 percent assistance.
I scheduled a biopsy and arrived at the appointed time. The procedure was only mildly uncomfortable, but did take several hours to complete. I was instructed to check with the U.T.M.B. Clinic in Beaumont for the results within the next two weeks. I think waiting for answers was the worst part of my experience.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the bills I received for my 50 percent totaled about $1,600. A very kind representative from the American Cancer Center suggested I call M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. I did and was referred to Kaye Wade of the Patient Assistance Service for the Nelly B. Conally Breast Center at M.D.A. She said I could apply for supplemental financial assistance and would have to complete a lengthy application. The first page requires the patient to first phone Chamberlain-Edmonds, an organization that screens applicants who do not live in Harris County, where M.D. Anderson is located, to determine if they qualify for any other programs. "
As part of the process in determining the eligibility of someone requesting assistance," said Wade, "the patient's physical condition plays a large part. If their diagnosis is serious and requires immediately attention, that will certainly impact the final determination."I was notified within two weeks that I qualified for 100 percent assistance. I was greatly relieved.
My first appointment was with the breast surgeon, followed by an appointment with an oncologist. Several tests were scheduled, and M.D. Anderson nearly became a second home.I began chemotherapy at the end of November, which continued for six months. I was treated like a queen and given a private room with a television. If the appointment fell around lunch time, a little waiter would arrive to ask if I’d like lunch. I was served, and if I couldn’t finish, I’d take the rest home to my son.
I’m grateful that I didn’t suffer much during chemo. I had no nausea, mouth sores, and was only tired. My son began to make coffee for me in the mornings to make it easier for me to get up and take him to school. (He still makes me coffee.)
I lost my hair around January. The wispy strands that stubbornly remained I finally shaved off. Before leaving the bathroom with my new ‘do’, I asked my son if he was ready to see me.“No,” he said and held a pillow to his face. It really only took him about 20 minutes to get used to my new appearance, but I had a harder time than I expected. Each time I passed a mirror and caught sight of my reflection, I was startled. A dear friend suggested I prop a mirror on an easel and draw my own portrait. I did. I spent about six hours studying my image, translated it to paper, and had come to terms with being bald. I recently entered the drawing in the BAL National Exhibition and won first place. The whole world can see me at my worst, if that’s what I was, but I needed more than chemotherapy to get through the experience. I have included the image in this submission. It is titled Therapy.
Surgery was scheduled for late June. A mastectomy was my only recourse, so I opted for a bilateral. When I woke, I was surrounded by friends and family. My aunts and mother had planned to care for me after my release from the hospital. For the next two days, I dozed, only opening my eyes long enough to see one of my aunts’ heads peeking at me from the doorway.
Recovery is what it is, and with only a couple of problems to address, I was scheduled for breast reconstruction with the plastic surgeon at M.D. Anderson.
Today I'm cancer free, still taking my medications, and nearly finished with reconstruction. I return to M.D. Anderson for regular checkups. I can only estimate my out of pocket expenses throughout my adventure, but I'm quite sure that I got my money's worth.
Facing my own mortality was cathartic. I’ve returned to living a normal life with a newly developed sense of appreciation for family, friends and people in general. Not much gives me greater pleasure than to comfort another victim of breast cancer.
However, some of us found ourselves with a little more to deal with than just the conditions of our homes and businesses.
My home received about six inches of water, so we tore out the carpet and laminate flooring. We also cut the drywall from the floor to two feet up and tore it out. The mess was appalling. The process of filing insurance claims is demanding, and without air conditioning, telephone service or gas to drive anywhere, I most certainly felt overwhelmed.
About two weeks after the storm, I was showering. I discovered a lump in my breast. Interestingly and ironically, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and under normal conditions, I would have had no problem finding a way to get a mammogram, with or without insurance.
I didn't have insurance and since that time, many friends and even strangers have asked me how I managed to find the great care I ultimately received. This is as good an opportunity as any other to encourage people not to despair and to ponder whether or not there really is a healthcare crisis in our country.
In my case, I was employed part time at a small museum as the curator. My decision to work part time was well considered and is what prevents many people from receiving benefits like health insurance. However, I took the risk believing that as a single mother of a son with no father, I needed to be as available to him as possible. I also used my spare time to finish a degree I had started years ago. I graduated in August with a bachelor of fine arts, a month before the hurricane.
I made an appointment with East Houston Regional Hospital for a mammogram. The mammogram didn't show anything unusual, but because a lump could clearly be felt, they performed an ultrasound, which did show what appeared to be a suspicious mass. I was advised by the hospital's doctor to seek further tests. The bill totaled about $200. Very reasonable, I thought.
Next I decided to research all my options, because I was somehow sure there were some. The first thing to be determined is if I qualified for indigent health care. Hardin County Indigent Healthcare Services representative Donna Miller described their purpose."We are a state mandated, county funded healthcare program for people with little or no income," she said. "We are similar to Medicaid because we contract with local physicians and pharmacies. We do not treat minors, only adults."Eligibility is determined by the Federal Poverty Guidelines established each year.
I learned I didn't qualify for the County's assistance, so I applied for assistance directly with the University of Texas Medical Branch Galveston. At my level of income, they answered in a letter, I would qualify for 50 percent assistance.
I scheduled a biopsy and arrived at the appointed time. The procedure was only mildly uncomfortable, but did take several hours to complete. I was instructed to check with the U.T.M.B. Clinic in Beaumont for the results within the next two weeks. I think waiting for answers was the worst part of my experience.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the bills I received for my 50 percent totaled about $1,600. A very kind representative from the American Cancer Center suggested I call M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. I did and was referred to Kaye Wade of the Patient Assistance Service for the Nelly B. Conally Breast Center at M.D.A. She said I could apply for supplemental financial assistance and would have to complete a lengthy application. The first page requires the patient to first phone Chamberlain-Edmonds, an organization that screens applicants who do not live in Harris County, where M.D. Anderson is located, to determine if they qualify for any other programs. "
As part of the process in determining the eligibility of someone requesting assistance," said Wade, "the patient's physical condition plays a large part. If their diagnosis is serious and requires immediately attention, that will certainly impact the final determination."I was notified within two weeks that I qualified for 100 percent assistance. I was greatly relieved.
My first appointment was with the breast surgeon, followed by an appointment with an oncologist. Several tests were scheduled, and M.D. Anderson nearly became a second home.I began chemotherapy at the end of November, which continued for six months. I was treated like a queen and given a private room with a television. If the appointment fell around lunch time, a little waiter would arrive to ask if I’d like lunch. I was served, and if I couldn’t finish, I’d take the rest home to my son.
I’m grateful that I didn’t suffer much during chemo. I had no nausea, mouth sores, and was only tired. My son began to make coffee for me in the mornings to make it easier for me to get up and take him to school. (He still makes me coffee.)
I lost my hair around January. The wispy strands that stubbornly remained I finally shaved off. Before leaving the bathroom with my new ‘do’, I asked my son if he was ready to see me.“No,” he said and held a pillow to his face. It really only took him about 20 minutes to get used to my new appearance, but I had a harder time than I expected. Each time I passed a mirror and caught sight of my reflection, I was startled. A dear friend suggested I prop a mirror on an easel and draw my own portrait. I did. I spent about six hours studying my image, translated it to paper, and had come to terms with being bald. I recently entered the drawing in the BAL National Exhibition and won first place. The whole world can see me at my worst, if that’s what I was, but I needed more than chemotherapy to get through the experience. I have included the image in this submission. It is titled Therapy.
Surgery was scheduled for late June. A mastectomy was my only recourse, so I opted for a bilateral. When I woke, I was surrounded by friends and family. My aunts and mother had planned to care for me after my release from the hospital. For the next two days, I dozed, only opening my eyes long enough to see one of my aunts’ heads peeking at me from the doorway.
Recovery is what it is, and with only a couple of problems to address, I was scheduled for breast reconstruction with the plastic surgeon at M.D. Anderson.
Today I'm cancer free, still taking my medications, and nearly finished with reconstruction. I return to M.D. Anderson for regular checkups. I can only estimate my out of pocket expenses throughout my adventure, but I'm quite sure that I got my money's worth.
Facing my own mortality was cathartic. I’ve returned to living a normal life with a newly developed sense of appreciation for family, friends and people in general. Not much gives me greater pleasure than to comfort another victim of breast cancer.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Heather's Story
I was in my early teens when I heard about breast cancer and what the treatment entailed. All my girl friends and I would talk about it, and the statistics of getting it. At that time, I think it was 1 out of every 15 would be diagnosed with breast cancer. I would silently think to myself. Gee, I hope I never get that. Then I was in my mid 20's and worked for a major health insurance company. I would hear more and more about the women getting breast cancer. The statistics changed, it was now 1 out of every 12 women. The medical industry had changed slightly on how they handled operations, and healthcare coverage. But women had to pay for their own reconstruction. While working at that same health insurance company, new laws and policy changes occurred and insurance companies began to cover reconstruction of radical mastectomies but only to the cancer ridden breast. It was a change for the better, but still left women in a bind. Fighting a life threatening disease, and left disfigured, and having to come up with thousands of dollars in surgical bills to make them feel and look somewhat normal again. I really prayed I never got any cancer, especially breast cancer.
Knowing that on both sides of my family there was zero history of cancer, and that relatives now and generations back lived into their 80’s and 90’s, I never thought I would get cancer. And it was the last thing I thought I would be doing now, at age 38. Fighting the very thing I never wanted, cancer – breast cancer.
It was Friday night, March 7, 2008 when I found a golf ball sized lump in my left breast. In a millisecond my life changed. I immediately freaked out. There I was complaining to myself about my job, finances, thinking about getting a second job, my love life, my friends, etc. When I seemingly for no reason, just felt the left side of my boob, and found a lump. I immediately thought: “what are you complaining about Heather?” Nothing is as important or could be more trivial, and if anything, I should be grateful for what I do have going on. I was scared. I called my Obgyn first thing Monday morning, and got an appointment. I had a Biopsy on March 12, and at 10 am on the 13th, the pathologist called me with the grim news, Invasive Breast Duct Carcinoma.
I had a couple consultations with surgeons, and decided to go with the one I felt most comfortable. I ended up at the only Cancer hospital in the surrounding 5 state area, The Huntsman Cancer Institute. I started the whole process, MRI’s, CT/PET Scans, and additional biopsies. I had a 2.5 elliptical golf ball sized tumor in my left breast, and 1 axillary lymph positive with cancer. It was really stressful. It seemed like everyday since the 7th of March was bad news. The results of my PET scan showed the cancer in the left breast and axillary, a spot on my thyroid, and a dense spot on my Vertebrae T-3. The Dr’s said the spot on the thyroid was 100% not cancerous, and the dense spot on the vertebrae was 80% not cancerous, but would have to watch it in other scans, if not biopsy later. This was the first good news I had. Shortly after that I found out that I was a triple negative. ER/PR/Her2neu negative.
My surgeon and oncologist discussed my case with the panel of oncologists and surgeons and told me I qualified for one of the trial studies. The study was on its 3rd leg, and was using the same drugs they would normally give a person with breast cancer, plus 2 other medications that were only approved for metastatic colorectal cancer and lung cancer. I began chemotherapy treatments on April 4, 2008. The treatment plan was to undergo 6 months of neoadjunct chemotherapy, surgery and then radiation. I was glad for the extra time to decide whether or not to have a mastectomy or lumpectomy, but dreaded having to go through such a long chemo treatment.
Some of the most discouraging and devastative news came from the first surgeon I saw. Before all the pathology tests were back to determine the ER/PR/Her2Neu or even having a CT/PET scan, she told me the following: I could chose the option of having a lumpectomy that would remove a small grapefruit size lump, which no reconstructive surgery would be done, and insurance would not cover. Or I could have a mastectomy, which would remove the entire breast and nipple, but reconstruction would take place immediately, and insurance would cover. She then told me that she would strongly recommend having the mastectomy, and also consider having both breasts removed, and even my ovaries. She said that I would need to make my decision within 3 days as to surgery options. When asked about the swollen goose egg sized lump in my arm pit, she said it was not a concern and normal swelling from the initial biopsy. She also told me that I would have to take either one or both of 2 drugs given for 5 years to suppress hormones either along with or after chemotherapy. She said that chemo would leave me menopausal for sure, and if chemo didn’t do it the 5 year drug therapy would. I was also told that being 38 was a bad thing and age was not on my side. That if I was lucky I would live for 20 years and at worse I would have 5 years to live. I left that appointment so upset and frustrated.
I was depressed the entire weekend, until I saw the Dr’s at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. The Dr’s there were SHOCKED that anyone would have told me I would only have 20 years at best. They told me that it is now a Federal Law that insurance companies must cover reconstruction whether it is a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. I also learned that without knowing the pathology results and having a CT/PET scan they couldn’t tell me if I would have to take hormone suppressive therapies. I was also told that whether or not I would become menopausal was not absolute, and that it was likely that I would probably get my cycles back because I was 38, not 48. As far as the swollen lymph node in my armpit, they were very concerned and told it was NOT normal. They immediately had it biopsied with a fine needle, and it came back positive for cancer. The more information they have sooner, the better they are at knowing how to proceed with treatment. I later found out that hormone suppressive drugs would have no effect on me or my cancer, and thus no need to take them. I also found out that I did not have a gene for breast cancer. Taking my ovaries would be something I needed to consider. After all of my test results came back, I learned that my cancer is highly survivable. That first Dr spoke to me so negatively and blunt, and later found out that things are NOT so black and white. It has been hard to not let that first consult affect me.
I began chemotherapy on April 4, 2008. It has been rough at times, especially the first half of treatment. I was pretty sad when I had to cut my hair really short because it was falling out, and within days it all fell out. But after the first month of treatment, hair was nothing to be sad over. Chemotherapy leaves you with strangest sick feeling. I feel like I drank some antifreeze and it was absorbed throughout all my tissues, leaving everything from my sinus, taste and bowels disturbed. It makes my organs sort of ache, and the side effects following are hard to deal with. Sometimes it seems like if it isn’t one thing, it another that I have to deal with each week. I have to keep reminding myself that others have suffered and do suffer far worse than this. When I am feeling really icky, I constantly remind myself that the alternative is NOT acceptable, and that I can do this, I can overcome and beat this. I have left myself little notes here and there to help remind myself that I am strong and will out live my grandmother who is now 96.
I now have 2 chemo treatments left, and then I will schedule surgery. I still have not made up my mind as to whether I will have a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. I was told that neither will affect my longevity, only the percentages of whether or not I get a second cancer in the same breast. It is still an ongoing thing for me. Day to day life is not the same. I have good and bad days. It depends on when I get treatment, and side effects. Having a lowered immune system is hard. I love to wakeboard. I live for the summer months of boating and wakeboarding. Unfortunately, mostly due to some of the side effects, I have not been able to do a lot of things. Chemotherapy causes me to feel exhausted quite a bit, and takes the wind right out of you, especially the first 7 days after each chemo treatment. My chemotherapy schedule changed and my drugs switched the first of July, which gives me extra time between chemo treatments. It is really nice to have the extra time to clean my house, do laundry, and get out and have some fun with friends.
I guess it has been a big challenge to not be discouraged, and to think of all the negative aspects of having cancer and going through chemotherapy. I just have to take one day at a time. In an instant cancer changed my life. It made me realize how much I take for granted. It made me realize that life, in life the only thing that is important, the only thing that matters in life is LOVE. All else is just circumstance, and frivolity. I think in a really weird way having cancer has helped my family become closer. Not just my immediate family, but my extended family too. It has helped us communicate better, and be kinder to one another.
I have since become a lot more educated about cancer, and how devastating of a disease it really is. When I was first diagnosed I went through all the how did I get it questions in my head. Maybe it is just biology gone bad, but maybe it is more. I think I have become a lot more aware of the importance of diet. Graduating in Exercise and Sports Science in 1995, and loosing 70lbs and keeping it off for many years, I thought I knew a lot about health, diet and nutrition. But when it comes down to it, I didn’t know enough. As a society, specifically a Western Society, we have a lot of environmental factors that influence our susceptibility to disease and illness; many that we (including myself) are unaware. That combined with genetic influence, and all the other unknown factors, all we have to fight cancer and other disease is our biology – our bodies. Diet is a huge factor on our immune systems, and cellular structure. I was so concerned with looking healthy or fit, I think I forgot or dismissed foods that have the potential to prevent a lot of illness and disease. However, saying that, I am acutely aware that cancer cares not to what you eat, your religion, race, sex, nor how much or little money you have. Cancer does not discriminate. But if I can pass what I have learned on to others, it is that no one is completely immune. That when science tells us that Polycarbonate bottles leech out BPA’s known to cause disease, throw them out. When your mother says to eat your leafy greens, eat them in triplicate. When research tells us that there are “super foods” like the goji, acai, and blueberries, incorporate them into your diet. It can only help.
I think if I was a National Spokesperson for Cancer Awareness I would share the above with people. I would tell people the staggering truth about cancer, all cancer. The incidence of cancer is growing and affecting younger and younger men, women and children. That we as a society need to stand up and demand governmental, and ask private and public donations into the research and development of medications that target fighting cancer more specifically. Researchers are on the cutting edge of identifying different proteins, hormones, and drugs that target cancer cells, but funding is needed.
As a person facing a diagnosis of cancer, I would share what I have written, and the following: No matter what your prognosis, DON’T GIVE UP! I have a dear friend whose mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 Melanoma 12 years ago. She was given 6 months – 1 year to live. She’s not a tip top prime of her life athlete, and she is still here. Yes, she has had several chemo treatments and several surgeries. She has had several cancer free periods; the longest has been the last 3 years. She has had some quality of life changes during treatments and surgeries, BUT SHE HAS NOT GIVEN UP, and SHE IS STILL HERE. I think of her, often. I think to myself, no matter how bad the prognosis, at least I would know. And do everything I can to fight it. No matter what stage and prognosis you are given, find reasons to live, laugh, love and be happy.
If I can pass advice on to anyone recently diagnosed with cancer, it would be to always get a second opinion. Go with a team of Dr’s you trust and believe in, if you ever feel uncomfortable with treatment and advice, it is never too late to seek a second opinion. You are your best advocate, ask questions. Seek out treatment from a cancer specialty hospital, usually affiliated with University Hospitals. Ask about current trials and study medications. Get as much information as you can about your cancer, diagnosis, and prognosis. Find someone to talk to about your treatment, someone who has or is going through chemotherapy, as well as a therapist or counselor. Find time to relax, and do things that are stress relieving. Don’t be sad about your hair, at times I feel ugly too, but know that it will come back. Focus on the positive, tell yourself you are strong and healthy and distract yourself when you are feeling icky. Sometimes it is easy to “talk yourself into” a harder time during treatment, so practice “talking yourself out of it.” Take each day one at a time, when you feel good – go do something! And know in spite of all the people you meet that tell you, oh my mother died of breast cancer, or I have an friend or aunt that died of breast cancer; there are people who have had cancer and now living 38 years later! I have met them. KNOW that you are not alone.
Knowing that on both sides of my family there was zero history of cancer, and that relatives now and generations back lived into their 80’s and 90’s, I never thought I would get cancer. And it was the last thing I thought I would be doing now, at age 38. Fighting the very thing I never wanted, cancer – breast cancer.
It was Friday night, March 7, 2008 when I found a golf ball sized lump in my left breast. In a millisecond my life changed. I immediately freaked out. There I was complaining to myself about my job, finances, thinking about getting a second job, my love life, my friends, etc. When I seemingly for no reason, just felt the left side of my boob, and found a lump. I immediately thought: “what are you complaining about Heather?” Nothing is as important or could be more trivial, and if anything, I should be grateful for what I do have going on. I was scared. I called my Obgyn first thing Monday morning, and got an appointment. I had a Biopsy on March 12, and at 10 am on the 13th, the pathologist called me with the grim news, Invasive Breast Duct Carcinoma.
I had a couple consultations with surgeons, and decided to go with the one I felt most comfortable. I ended up at the only Cancer hospital in the surrounding 5 state area, The Huntsman Cancer Institute. I started the whole process, MRI’s, CT/PET Scans, and additional biopsies. I had a 2.5 elliptical golf ball sized tumor in my left breast, and 1 axillary lymph positive with cancer. It was really stressful. It seemed like everyday since the 7th of March was bad news. The results of my PET scan showed the cancer in the left breast and axillary, a spot on my thyroid, and a dense spot on my Vertebrae T-3. The Dr’s said the spot on the thyroid was 100% not cancerous, and the dense spot on the vertebrae was 80% not cancerous, but would have to watch it in other scans, if not biopsy later. This was the first good news I had. Shortly after that I found out that I was a triple negative. ER/PR/Her2neu negative.
My surgeon and oncologist discussed my case with the panel of oncologists and surgeons and told me I qualified for one of the trial studies. The study was on its 3rd leg, and was using the same drugs they would normally give a person with breast cancer, plus 2 other medications that were only approved for metastatic colorectal cancer and lung cancer. I began chemotherapy treatments on April 4, 2008. The treatment plan was to undergo 6 months of neoadjunct chemotherapy, surgery and then radiation. I was glad for the extra time to decide whether or not to have a mastectomy or lumpectomy, but dreaded having to go through such a long chemo treatment.
Some of the most discouraging and devastative news came from the first surgeon I saw. Before all the pathology tests were back to determine the ER/PR/Her2Neu or even having a CT/PET scan, she told me the following: I could chose the option of having a lumpectomy that would remove a small grapefruit size lump, which no reconstructive surgery would be done, and insurance would not cover. Or I could have a mastectomy, which would remove the entire breast and nipple, but reconstruction would take place immediately, and insurance would cover. She then told me that she would strongly recommend having the mastectomy, and also consider having both breasts removed, and even my ovaries. She said that I would need to make my decision within 3 days as to surgery options. When asked about the swollen goose egg sized lump in my arm pit, she said it was not a concern and normal swelling from the initial biopsy. She also told me that I would have to take either one or both of 2 drugs given for 5 years to suppress hormones either along with or after chemotherapy. She said that chemo would leave me menopausal for sure, and if chemo didn’t do it the 5 year drug therapy would. I was also told that being 38 was a bad thing and age was not on my side. That if I was lucky I would live for 20 years and at worse I would have 5 years to live. I left that appointment so upset and frustrated.
I was depressed the entire weekend, until I saw the Dr’s at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. The Dr’s there were SHOCKED that anyone would have told me I would only have 20 years at best. They told me that it is now a Federal Law that insurance companies must cover reconstruction whether it is a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. I also learned that without knowing the pathology results and having a CT/PET scan they couldn’t tell me if I would have to take hormone suppressive therapies. I was also told that whether or not I would become menopausal was not absolute, and that it was likely that I would probably get my cycles back because I was 38, not 48. As far as the swollen lymph node in my armpit, they were very concerned and told it was NOT normal. They immediately had it biopsied with a fine needle, and it came back positive for cancer. The more information they have sooner, the better they are at knowing how to proceed with treatment. I later found out that hormone suppressive drugs would have no effect on me or my cancer, and thus no need to take them. I also found out that I did not have a gene for breast cancer. Taking my ovaries would be something I needed to consider. After all of my test results came back, I learned that my cancer is highly survivable. That first Dr spoke to me so negatively and blunt, and later found out that things are NOT so black and white. It has been hard to not let that first consult affect me.
I began chemotherapy on April 4, 2008. It has been rough at times, especially the first half of treatment. I was pretty sad when I had to cut my hair really short because it was falling out, and within days it all fell out. But after the first month of treatment, hair was nothing to be sad over. Chemotherapy leaves you with strangest sick feeling. I feel like I drank some antifreeze and it was absorbed throughout all my tissues, leaving everything from my sinus, taste and bowels disturbed. It makes my organs sort of ache, and the side effects following are hard to deal with. Sometimes it seems like if it isn’t one thing, it another that I have to deal with each week. I have to keep reminding myself that others have suffered and do suffer far worse than this. When I am feeling really icky, I constantly remind myself that the alternative is NOT acceptable, and that I can do this, I can overcome and beat this. I have left myself little notes here and there to help remind myself that I am strong and will out live my grandmother who is now 96.
I now have 2 chemo treatments left, and then I will schedule surgery. I still have not made up my mind as to whether I will have a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. I was told that neither will affect my longevity, only the percentages of whether or not I get a second cancer in the same breast. It is still an ongoing thing for me. Day to day life is not the same. I have good and bad days. It depends on when I get treatment, and side effects. Having a lowered immune system is hard. I love to wakeboard. I live for the summer months of boating and wakeboarding. Unfortunately, mostly due to some of the side effects, I have not been able to do a lot of things. Chemotherapy causes me to feel exhausted quite a bit, and takes the wind right out of you, especially the first 7 days after each chemo treatment. My chemotherapy schedule changed and my drugs switched the first of July, which gives me extra time between chemo treatments. It is really nice to have the extra time to clean my house, do laundry, and get out and have some fun with friends.
I guess it has been a big challenge to not be discouraged, and to think of all the negative aspects of having cancer and going through chemotherapy. I just have to take one day at a time. In an instant cancer changed my life. It made me realize how much I take for granted. It made me realize that life, in life the only thing that is important, the only thing that matters in life is LOVE. All else is just circumstance, and frivolity. I think in a really weird way having cancer has helped my family become closer. Not just my immediate family, but my extended family too. It has helped us communicate better, and be kinder to one another.
I have since become a lot more educated about cancer, and how devastating of a disease it really is. When I was first diagnosed I went through all the how did I get it questions in my head. Maybe it is just biology gone bad, but maybe it is more. I think I have become a lot more aware of the importance of diet. Graduating in Exercise and Sports Science in 1995, and loosing 70lbs and keeping it off for many years, I thought I knew a lot about health, diet and nutrition. But when it comes down to it, I didn’t know enough. As a society, specifically a Western Society, we have a lot of environmental factors that influence our susceptibility to disease and illness; many that we (including myself) are unaware. That combined with genetic influence, and all the other unknown factors, all we have to fight cancer and other disease is our biology – our bodies. Diet is a huge factor on our immune systems, and cellular structure. I was so concerned with looking healthy or fit, I think I forgot or dismissed foods that have the potential to prevent a lot of illness and disease. However, saying that, I am acutely aware that cancer cares not to what you eat, your religion, race, sex, nor how much or little money you have. Cancer does not discriminate. But if I can pass what I have learned on to others, it is that no one is completely immune. That when science tells us that Polycarbonate bottles leech out BPA’s known to cause disease, throw them out. When your mother says to eat your leafy greens, eat them in triplicate. When research tells us that there are “super foods” like the goji, acai, and blueberries, incorporate them into your diet. It can only help.
I think if I was a National Spokesperson for Cancer Awareness I would share the above with people. I would tell people the staggering truth about cancer, all cancer. The incidence of cancer is growing and affecting younger and younger men, women and children. That we as a society need to stand up and demand governmental, and ask private and public donations into the research and development of medications that target fighting cancer more specifically. Researchers are on the cutting edge of identifying different proteins, hormones, and drugs that target cancer cells, but funding is needed.
As a person facing a diagnosis of cancer, I would share what I have written, and the following: No matter what your prognosis, DON’T GIVE UP! I have a dear friend whose mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 Melanoma 12 years ago. She was given 6 months – 1 year to live. She’s not a tip top prime of her life athlete, and she is still here. Yes, she has had several chemo treatments and several surgeries. She has had several cancer free periods; the longest has been the last 3 years. She has had some quality of life changes during treatments and surgeries, BUT SHE HAS NOT GIVEN UP, and SHE IS STILL HERE. I think of her, often. I think to myself, no matter how bad the prognosis, at least I would know. And do everything I can to fight it. No matter what stage and prognosis you are given, find reasons to live, laugh, love and be happy.
If I can pass advice on to anyone recently diagnosed with cancer, it would be to always get a second opinion. Go with a team of Dr’s you trust and believe in, if you ever feel uncomfortable with treatment and advice, it is never too late to seek a second opinion. You are your best advocate, ask questions. Seek out treatment from a cancer specialty hospital, usually affiliated with University Hospitals. Ask about current trials and study medications. Get as much information as you can about your cancer, diagnosis, and prognosis. Find someone to talk to about your treatment, someone who has or is going through chemotherapy, as well as a therapist or counselor. Find time to relax, and do things that are stress relieving. Don’t be sad about your hair, at times I feel ugly too, but know that it will come back. Focus on the positive, tell yourself you are strong and healthy and distract yourself when you are feeling icky. Sometimes it is easy to “talk yourself into” a harder time during treatment, so practice “talking yourself out of it.” Take each day one at a time, when you feel good – go do something! And know in spite of all the people you meet that tell you, oh my mother died of breast cancer, or I have an friend or aunt that died of breast cancer; there are people who have had cancer and now living 38 years later! I have met them. KNOW that you are not alone.
Jessica's Mom's Story
I'm writing my story for my mom....
My mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer for the last 5 months. She is a stage 4. The way she found it is she shut the car door on herself, and when the bruise wouldn't go away or stop hurting she went in. The doctor gave her the news a couple of days later. I have 8 siblings in my family, 4 older sister and 4 younger brothers. I remember when I was driving home from a friends one day my sister called me and told me to pull over. I think I cried for the next 2 weeks. It was hard cause we heard one bad thing after the other. When they first took the tumor out we thought ok that wasn't that bad, then we found out there were 2 tumors. A few days later we found out that it was in her lymphnodes. Still we kept up the spirit that ok hopefully it hasn't gone past that. A few days pass and we find out that it is in more places. That its in her bones and her liver. Then the doctor says well it might be in the heart and the brain. I felt like my whole world was crashing down. That she had to go through all these tests and there wasn't anything I could do. I knew that it if it was in her brain she would not go through the chemo. So my family got together and did a prayer for her and just prayed for the best and for her to have the courage to fight this, no matter how much bad news we were given. The news came back it was not in her brain, heart or lungs. I think that was one of the best moments. All I could think was, Mom you can fight this and beat this. I can't imagine my mom not here, when I found out, (I know it's selfish) but I kept thinking what if she isn't here for all the things I want her front row and center in my life. So I decided that I would work as hard as I could to help her in any way I could. That I would hopefully be as strong as she needs me to be, that my siblings and I will always be there for her like she is for us. She is amazing, she has the best spirit. I know she gets down and is so tired but her attitude towards fighting it, is something that is teaching me to believe. So on that note...Mom,...you can fight this...you can beat this....
My mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer for the last 5 months. She is a stage 4. The way she found it is she shut the car door on herself, and when the bruise wouldn't go away or stop hurting she went in. The doctor gave her the news a couple of days later. I have 8 siblings in my family, 4 older sister and 4 younger brothers. I remember when I was driving home from a friends one day my sister called me and told me to pull over. I think I cried for the next 2 weeks. It was hard cause we heard one bad thing after the other. When they first took the tumor out we thought ok that wasn't that bad, then we found out there were 2 tumors. A few days later we found out that it was in her lymphnodes. Still we kept up the spirit that ok hopefully it hasn't gone past that. A few days pass and we find out that it is in more places. That its in her bones and her liver. Then the doctor says well it might be in the heart and the brain. I felt like my whole world was crashing down. That she had to go through all these tests and there wasn't anything I could do. I knew that it if it was in her brain she would not go through the chemo. So my family got together and did a prayer for her and just prayed for the best and for her to have the courage to fight this, no matter how much bad news we were given. The news came back it was not in her brain, heart or lungs. I think that was one of the best moments. All I could think was, Mom you can fight this and beat this. I can't imagine my mom not here, when I found out, (I know it's selfish) but I kept thinking what if she isn't here for all the things I want her front row and center in my life. So I decided that I would work as hard as I could to help her in any way I could. That I would hopefully be as strong as she needs me to be, that my siblings and I will always be there for her like she is for us. She is amazing, she has the best spirit. I know she gets down and is so tired but her attitude towards fighting it, is something that is teaching me to believe. So on that note...Mom,...you can fight this...you can beat this....
Patricia's Story
My life has been one of goal setting, but the biggest goal I ever set and achieved was battling breast cancer. I was diagnosed on April 1, 2003, not a very good April fools joke. I must not be as brave as others for this is definitely a hard story to share. The news of my diagnosis beat me home, which was hard to take, someone at the doctors office had leaked the news and my neighbor new of the test results before I. First goal was to tell my four children, which my husband did. I had a hard time facing them at first. Then the biggest goal - to beat this disease. I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. So the months of chemo, surgery and radiation became daily realities. Just getting out of bed some days was almost more than I could handle. I had a ten year old daughter at the time and her world seemed to be okay if I was up before she caught the school bus in the morning and dressed when she returned home from school in the afternoon, this took all the energy that I could muster up on some days. My dad always said if something was worth having it was worth fighting for, and life is definitely worth having and therefore worth fighting for. The fight with this illness has made me a stronger person, ready to take on whatever the world has to dish out to me.
On the month of the fifth anniversary of my diagnosis, which was just this April, I asked my doctor if I was in remission, his reply, “Patty, you don’t put stage IV breast cancer in remission. You can say it is controlled.” Controlled means a monthly visit to the doctors office for a bone treatment to keep the disease at bay, as well as daily medicine therapy. With these treatments comes daily pain, a heart condition as a result of the chemo and a strong will to beat this illness. But the sum of the whole thing is that I am here. My desire to beat the cancer is still strong, the goal of rasing my children is almost completed. There are other goals however, that I have set and plan to accomplish. The desire to reach these goals and the dream of just being alive are still strong in my heart.
I have often told others of my fight with cancer, and know from where my strength came, from the prayers of my husband, children, father, sisters, and brothers, extended family, friends and a whole community, but mostly from the Lord. I could not have done it alone. To others I would say, that cancer is beatable today, people live through cancer and chemo in our day, my mother was diagnosis with leukemia in 1974 and died form the disease and chemo treatments in 1976. But in to days world people live through cancer and chemo and carry on. So for today my goal is still to beat this thing, and live out the rest of my goals and my dreams.
On the month of the fifth anniversary of my diagnosis, which was just this April, I asked my doctor if I was in remission, his reply, “Patty, you don’t put stage IV breast cancer in remission. You can say it is controlled.” Controlled means a monthly visit to the doctors office for a bone treatment to keep the disease at bay, as well as daily medicine therapy. With these treatments comes daily pain, a heart condition as a result of the chemo and a strong will to beat this illness. But the sum of the whole thing is that I am here. My desire to beat the cancer is still strong, the goal of rasing my children is almost completed. There are other goals however, that I have set and plan to accomplish. The desire to reach these goals and the dream of just being alive are still strong in my heart.
I have often told others of my fight with cancer, and know from where my strength came, from the prayers of my husband, children, father, sisters, and brothers, extended family, friends and a whole community, but mostly from the Lord. I could not have done it alone. To others I would say, that cancer is beatable today, people live through cancer and chemo in our day, my mother was diagnosis with leukemia in 1974 and died form the disease and chemo treatments in 1976. But in to days world people live through cancer and chemo and carry on. So for today my goal is still to beat this thing, and live out the rest of my goals and my dreams.
Kalli's Story
I think any woman diagnosed with breast cancer can clearly recall the day in which they were diagnosed. Each woman can tell you where they were when they received the "news", what the weather was like, who was with them and their first initial thoughts of the road that lay ahead. I am no different. It was July of 2007, and I was enjoying my first full summer of "retirement" with my two children Abigail age 3 and Maxwell age 14 months. The three of us were playing as hard as we could to enjoy mom being home all the time. My husband and I had decided some few months prior that I would quit my job to stay home with our two treasures. This was a big decision considering my job was the job that essentially supported our family. My husband did work, but only part time and was a full time student half way through the rigorous Doctor of Pharmacy program at the University of Utah. We rarely saw him with the demands of school and work, and my quitting my job could possibly mean we would see him even less if he needed to pick up extra hours work, but we both agreed this was the best scenario for our family. We were up for an adventure and were willing to take out a few extra student loans and live a little more meager than we were used to. We were definitely not up for the adventure that awaited us that 17th day of July.
I had gone to my primary care physician worried about a lump I had found in my left breast. The lump seemed to have gotten bigger over the past weeks. My doctor put my mind at ease by explaining it felt like a cyst---probably a milk duct that had not completely cleared out since I had stopped breast feeding some time ago. She ordered a mammogram and ultrasound and explained that the radiologist would be able to drain the cyst there at the exam and I should be able to continue with my summer of retirement. Cancer did not even cross my mind, why should it? I was a healthy 31 year old living out her dream of motherhood.
I was not thrilled to be having my first mammogram at age 31 and felt out of place sitting in the waiting room with several other women twice my age. I think my husband felt even stranger waiting with me. The ultrasound did not show a cyst and the radiologist opted for a needle biopsy. As he left to prepare for the biopsy, I started worrying about cancer and the real possibility I could have it. My thoughts raced and I wondered what we do if that was the case. Who would take care of my two children? Would my husband be able to complete his schooling and excel in the program he had worked 5 long years to get to this point? How would we be able to pay for such treatment? We only had the bare minimum insurance and surely cancer would not be a part of bare minimum insurance! Soon the biopsy was completed and I was sent home by the cold radiologist who said I would have to wait the weekend before hearing about any results. I was to wait three long days to hear whether I had cancer or not. It was excruciating. I had gone from carefree to freak out about the future.
Finally that Monday came and my husband and I were waiting inside the general surgeon’s office I was referred to. Over the last few days I had convinced myself that I could handle whatever was in store. I could overcome cancer! I could have surgery to have the lump removed and then still have plenty of summer left to enjoy with my family. Wrong. The surgeon did not waste time to tell me that I had stage III, estrogen positive breast cancer. My tumor was too big to remove at this time and I would have to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. I was stunned! The surgeon’s stories of hope and dreams of cure were mere mumbles to me. I was still trying to register the words, “you have cancer”.
The next two weeks were filled with CT scans, EKG’s and doctor’s visits in order to prepare for the 8 rounds of chemotherapy that I was to receive. Sometime in the middle of the preparations, I decided to myself that I could do this! I can do hard things and I can do them with a positive attitude. I can do hard things for my children and my hard working husband, and if I did, I would be successful.The first day of chemo was the hardest one of this journey. I was scared of what lie ahead, but I kept telling myself, “I can do hard things”! And I did! I had the full cancer experience while going through chemotherapy which included several hospitalizations and blood transfusions. I lost my hair in one day, but I had all my friends and family rally around me. I was doing hard things, and I was beating cancer. My best days were those when my two kids would climb in bed with me and lay their heads on my shoulders and just smile. It made the hard work towards survival worth it all!
My chemotherapy treatments ended just before Thanksgiving and I was quickly scheduled for a bi-lateral mastectomy the first week of December. I was scared, but ready to face to the next part of this hard journey. I managed to go into surgery with a smile and leave with a bigger smile. I was nearly there! I enjoyed the holidays and then worked up my courage once again to begin 35 treatments of radiation. Another hard part--daily treatment to kill cancer! I could do it! I made great friends and still had wonderful family and friends close by. My husband continued in his schooling and completed the hardest semester of the program with honors. We took out a few loans to make ends meet, but we were beating cancer! The day I finished my radiation, we had a celebration, but the best part of finishing was the feeling of love and accomplishment that I could do hard things! If I could make it this far, then I could do anything! My life can be anything I want it to be. Nothing is too hard!I
am currently undergoing physical therapy to help with the scarring and burning left on my left chest wall after surgery and radiation so that I can undergo reconstructive surgery. It’s really hard work, but again, I know I can do it. I can recover and be ready for whatever it takes to reconstruct and get myself back to feeling like a young mom and woman.
In order to celebrate those men and women who walked across the country to settle the state of Utah, I recently walked with 350 other youth, men and women from our neighborhood 27 miles. We pushed handcarts as our pioneers did and remembered their sacrifices for freedom that we now enjoy. It was really hard work! But I did it. I did with my left arm raised above my head to combat any effects of lymphedema that might occur with the heat and swelling. I hope I was an inspiration to those I went with that they too can do hard things. They can walk 27 hard, hot miles. They can overcome bad habits. They can beat any physical limitation. They can beat cancer and they can find a cure! We all can do hard things. It may not be the hard things that we plan for, but we still can overcome them all. The hard things that I have done and am doing have been the things that have made me a better person. A more determined person to fight for a long life and to live better. I can continue to do hard things and do them with an optimistic outlook. If we all strive to do hard things, we will find a cure to breast cancer. It will be hard, but it will happen.
I had gone to my primary care physician worried about a lump I had found in my left breast. The lump seemed to have gotten bigger over the past weeks. My doctor put my mind at ease by explaining it felt like a cyst---probably a milk duct that had not completely cleared out since I had stopped breast feeding some time ago. She ordered a mammogram and ultrasound and explained that the radiologist would be able to drain the cyst there at the exam and I should be able to continue with my summer of retirement. Cancer did not even cross my mind, why should it? I was a healthy 31 year old living out her dream of motherhood.
I was not thrilled to be having my first mammogram at age 31 and felt out of place sitting in the waiting room with several other women twice my age. I think my husband felt even stranger waiting with me. The ultrasound did not show a cyst and the radiologist opted for a needle biopsy. As he left to prepare for the biopsy, I started worrying about cancer and the real possibility I could have it. My thoughts raced and I wondered what we do if that was the case. Who would take care of my two children? Would my husband be able to complete his schooling and excel in the program he had worked 5 long years to get to this point? How would we be able to pay for such treatment? We only had the bare minimum insurance and surely cancer would not be a part of bare minimum insurance! Soon the biopsy was completed and I was sent home by the cold radiologist who said I would have to wait the weekend before hearing about any results. I was to wait three long days to hear whether I had cancer or not. It was excruciating. I had gone from carefree to freak out about the future.
Finally that Monday came and my husband and I were waiting inside the general surgeon’s office I was referred to. Over the last few days I had convinced myself that I could handle whatever was in store. I could overcome cancer! I could have surgery to have the lump removed and then still have plenty of summer left to enjoy with my family. Wrong. The surgeon did not waste time to tell me that I had stage III, estrogen positive breast cancer. My tumor was too big to remove at this time and I would have to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. I was stunned! The surgeon’s stories of hope and dreams of cure were mere mumbles to me. I was still trying to register the words, “you have cancer”.
The next two weeks were filled with CT scans, EKG’s and doctor’s visits in order to prepare for the 8 rounds of chemotherapy that I was to receive. Sometime in the middle of the preparations, I decided to myself that I could do this! I can do hard things and I can do them with a positive attitude. I can do hard things for my children and my hard working husband, and if I did, I would be successful.The first day of chemo was the hardest one of this journey. I was scared of what lie ahead, but I kept telling myself, “I can do hard things”! And I did! I had the full cancer experience while going through chemotherapy which included several hospitalizations and blood transfusions. I lost my hair in one day, but I had all my friends and family rally around me. I was doing hard things, and I was beating cancer. My best days were those when my two kids would climb in bed with me and lay their heads on my shoulders and just smile. It made the hard work towards survival worth it all!
My chemotherapy treatments ended just before Thanksgiving and I was quickly scheduled for a bi-lateral mastectomy the first week of December. I was scared, but ready to face to the next part of this hard journey. I managed to go into surgery with a smile and leave with a bigger smile. I was nearly there! I enjoyed the holidays and then worked up my courage once again to begin 35 treatments of radiation. Another hard part--daily treatment to kill cancer! I could do it! I made great friends and still had wonderful family and friends close by. My husband continued in his schooling and completed the hardest semester of the program with honors. We took out a few loans to make ends meet, but we were beating cancer! The day I finished my radiation, we had a celebration, but the best part of finishing was the feeling of love and accomplishment that I could do hard things! If I could make it this far, then I could do anything! My life can be anything I want it to be. Nothing is too hard!I
am currently undergoing physical therapy to help with the scarring and burning left on my left chest wall after surgery and radiation so that I can undergo reconstructive surgery. It’s really hard work, but again, I know I can do it. I can recover and be ready for whatever it takes to reconstruct and get myself back to feeling like a young mom and woman.
In order to celebrate those men and women who walked across the country to settle the state of Utah, I recently walked with 350 other youth, men and women from our neighborhood 27 miles. We pushed handcarts as our pioneers did and remembered their sacrifices for freedom that we now enjoy. It was really hard work! But I did it. I did with my left arm raised above my head to combat any effects of lymphedema that might occur with the heat and swelling. I hope I was an inspiration to those I went with that they too can do hard things. They can walk 27 hard, hot miles. They can overcome bad habits. They can beat any physical limitation. They can beat cancer and they can find a cure! We all can do hard things. It may not be the hard things that we plan for, but we still can overcome them all. The hard things that I have done and am doing have been the things that have made me a better person. A more determined person to fight for a long life and to live better. I can continue to do hard things and do them with an optimistic outlook. If we all strive to do hard things, we will find a cure to breast cancer. It will be hard, but it will happen.
Wendy's Story
Hi, my name is Wendy, I’m 37 years old and in May, 2008, I received the most shocking news of my life…Breast Cancer. Then in June 2008, the news became even more devastating, Stage IV Breast Cancer. Here is my story:
It all began in April when I found a lump on the side of my left breast. I thought to myself, “There is no way this can be what I think it is”, thus I chose to convince myself that it was nothing and it would go away. It had to. I am in the prime of my life, have a job I adore, the best family in the world and on top of all of that, I am healthy. Other than the occasional sniffle or seasonal allergy flare up, I’ve never been sick a day in my life. There is just no way this is cancer!! Another two weeks passed and the lump…well it was still there but again, it’ll go away – I’m not worried about it. A month passes, the lump is still there. I know I need to see a doctor but I just can’t – I don’t want to know. It wasn’t until one night, my husband, Jerry and I were going to bed and he put his arms around me to tell me good night and he too, felt the lump. I had not told him about it prior to this. “What’s that? That’s not natural” he said. At that moment, I realized I had to go to the doctor. There was no way he was going to allow me to wait another day. The next morning I made the dreaded appointment. I also decided to share my problem with my sister, Kim. We have a promise to each other – no secrets…ever, no matter how bad they might be.
I went to the local Breast Care Specialist, Dr. Henry. This was on Thursday before Memorial Day weekend. With fear in my heart, I walked in and within a few minutes I was undergoing my very first mammogram. Not so bad! The doctor then took me into an exam room, said the mammogram did not show anything but he wanted to do a physical breast exam. Once he felt the area of suspicion, he then decided an Ultrasound was needed. After the Ultrasound, he then advised he wanted to do a biopsy. Despite the fear and anxiety that I’m already feeling about possibly having cancer, I am terrified of needles. It took everything I had to hold it together. I survived the biopsy and was then was told the results would take about 2-3 days but since it was a holiday weekend, they wouldn’t know anything until Tuesday. How am I going to get through the weekend? Unfortunately, over that weekend, my grandfather who is my angel, my hero, suffered a heart attack. All I could think about was him and how I was going to tell him and my family if my results were not good. My family was already going through so much with my grandfather’s illness (heart and lung disease). I didn’t want to add to their worries.
The weekend passed. It was the longest weekend of my life. Tuesday came and the hours went by. I carried my phone with me everywhere waiting for the call. Finally later that afternoon, the phone rang and even though I didn’t want to answer it, I had to. My heart was racing, my body trembling. Dr. Henry spoke and all I heard was “It’s Cancer”. My entire body became numb and tears starting pouring. My employer knew what I had just heard and after lots of hugs from my boss and coworkers, he sent me home. My sister-in-law, Missy, who also works with me, was not about to let me be alone so she drove me home and stayed with me until my husband got there. On the way home, I stopped at my sister’s job to break the news to her. I had to do it in person. She took one look at me and she knew the news was not good. We embraced each other and neither of us wanted to let go. You see, my sister and I are so close that when one of us experiences something good or bad, so does the other one. We cried, we laughed a little and we promised each other that this was just a small bump in the road and we would get through it. I was devastated inside, but all I could think about was making sure my sister didn’t have cancer too….she doesn’t. What a relief. I also knew at this point that I had to at least tell my mom and dad I had cancer. Again, this is something I had to do in person and one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. They were both so supportive and they let me know they would be with me through this, every step of the way. I then decided that no one else could know right now. I had to deal with this myself before I told anyone else. I had no idea when or if I would tell another soul. Depending on my treatment, I may not tell them. I may be able to get through this without anyone else needing to know. There was no way my grandparents could find out. I was scared to death that if I told my grandfather, he would have another heart attack and I just couldn’t take that chance. There is no way I can lose him now. I have to be his rock.
A few days after being diagnosed, I revisited Dr. Henry to go over my options and to get scheduled for more tests – MRI, CT, X-rays and blood work. Oh nooooooo, more needles. Just thinking about needles makes me cry. It was going to be another two weeks before the tests could be done. During the weeks preceding the tests and the week following the tests, I had somewhat come to terms with the fact that I had cancer. It wasn’t going away and I had to deal with it. I had also convinced myself that it had to be early stages of cancer because the lump had not been there very long and I had just had a normal breast exam just a year prior. Dr. Henry had already told me that I would have to have a mastectomy, but you know what….that’s okay. You see, God did not bless me with a large chest – as a matter of fact, I have no chest. I’m going to go get my mastectomy with reconstruction and finally for the first time in my life, I will be able to wear a “big girl bra”. My sister and I even went shopping one weekend and we looked at big girl bras. It was so exciting and we had so much fun. We laughed and we ran around shopping like two teenagers out on our own for the very first time. Even though having cancer is terrible, at that moment I felt that at least something good would come of it and I had accepted the disease.
Finally, the day arrived that I would get the results of my tests and I could move forward with getting this little green monster they call “Cancer” out of my body. My husband and I went in, sat down in Dr. Henry’s office and we could not believe what we were hearing. What else could they tell me, right? Well they managed to give me more bad news. The MRI showed something in my liver and in my sinus cavity. Again, he could not say whether or not it was cancer but another test was needed and he sent me to an oncologist, Dr. Richards. They tell me he is the best. I was devastated – there was just no way. The test had to be wrong. I hoped and prayed it was just a benign cyst in my liver.On Friday, I went to see Dr. Richards. It was on this visit that once again, he gave me even more bad news – my cancer was HER2neu positive, meaning these HER2 cells were attaching them to my cancer, making the cancer more aggressive and making it spread much faster. I just wanted to die at that moment. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m healthy, I’m strong and you are telling me I’m sick. I’m not sick – I don’t feel sick, I don’t look sick. I’m not sick!! Dr. Richards scheduled me to have a PET scan. It was going to be another few weeks before this scan could be done. You can’t imagine what was going through my head. They were telling me I have a very aggressive, fast moving cancer yet I have to wait another few weeks to get this test? I just wanted them to take the tumors out right then before they could spread anywhere else in my body. I had so many questions and I was just in a complete state of shock. I was still determined that I could not tell anyone else at this time. My husband, myself, my sister, my mom and my dad all had to walk around with big smiles on our face like nothing was happening but deep inside, we were all sharing the deepest, darkest secret of our lives.
I had the PET scan just a few days before I was scheduled to go on vacation. The results would be in while I was on vacation. Do I have them call me while I’m on vacation or do I wait? My husband was encouraging me to wait. Waiting a few extra days is not going to change the results. We can try and have a good time and put all of this behind us for a week or we can find out and if bad news, ruin the entire trip. On the other hand, I’m thinking it’s going to be good news which means we can have a great trip. Before I left, I also knew it was time to tell my grandparents. They deserved to know and I was so scared they would find out from someone other than me. I knew they would be overwhelmed but I also knew by now that I couldn’t hide my disease from them. With the HER2 cancer, I would have to have chemo – there is no other option for treatment. I’m going to lose my hair and probably be sick. I can’t hide this from my grandparents and the rest of our family. I told my grandparents and even though they were upset, they took the news well and were very supportive. I also allowed them to let others in our family know as well. I called my Aunt Diane for some needed support. She is a 10 year survivor of breast cancer and I knew if there was anyone that could talk me through this disease, it would be her. She’s been through it and knowing her story, I knew I could get through it as well. One day I too could be cured forever.
The next day after telling my grandparents, my worst fear happened. Remember when I told you that I didn’t want to tell my grandfather for fear that he would have another heart attack? Well he did. Even though my family assured me that my news was not the cause of his heart attack, no one was going to convince me otherwise. I was so upset. How could I have done this? I should have listened to my heart and not let anyone convince me to tell him. It took several days, but once I knew he was going to be okay, I realized that it wasn’t me that caused his heart attack. He is doing good now and is one of my biggest supporters.
I went on my vacation and had the time of my life. This vacation was spent with my husband, boss and coworkers. My employer takes us on a trip every two years and it was much needed. It was a good way to take my mind off of what was going on for a few days. By the way, I opted not to get my test results until I came home. I had an appointment on Monday after I returned home to visit Dr. Richards.
Myself, my husband and my sister went to Dr. Richards office on that bright, sunny Monday morning. I just knew I was going to get good news. Dr. Richards came in and after a little chit-chat; the words came out of his mouth. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the news is not good. I’m 100% positive that the cancer has metastasized into your liver. I can’t cure your cancer, but I can treat it”. I looked at him and said “I feel like you just gave me my death sentence”. All he could say was “I’m sorry”. I asked him how long I had and he replied that he did not know. He felt he could put me into remission for perhaps a year or two and then from there we would just keep fighting it. The three of us cried our eyes out, sat and listened as Dr. Richards explained my treatment options. I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing – not only do I have breast cancer, but I have HER2neu positive breast cancer and it has metastasized into my liver – Stage IV. We opted to try a new treatment, a new clinical trial that has never been tried in my area. I would be put on Abraxane (chemotherapy medication) and Lapatinib medication to treat the HER2 cells. My treatment would begin immediately. What about my surgery? I wanted to know when they were going to remove the green monsters inside my breast and liver. Then came another blow. Dr. Richards explained that they would not be doing surgery. There was no need to do the surgery right now. He is hoping the treatment will shrink or completely remove the tumors. Now I’m not going to get my big girl bras.
My treatment started and I’m 4 weeks in. One the first day of treatment, I had the port put in and immediately following, I received my first dose of poison. I go once a week for 3 weeks, and then I get a week off. I have a total of 24 treatments to endure. My mom goes with me weekly and sits with me through my treatment. She is my “Chemo Buddy”. Treatment has definitely not been a picnic. After my first treatment, I did become sick, nauseated, tired and anxious. The second week was wonderful. I took my treatment, no nausea, I wasn’t tired – hey, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all, other than eventually losing my hair. My 3rd week came, I did okay but within a few days, my world started crumbling. I was throwing up, exhausted, I had excruciating pain in my legs, my face was breaking out, I had ulcers in my mouth, etc... This was the beginning of my hell. I couldn’t work; I could hardly get out of bed. I was miserable. The insurance company was not approving much needed medications that Dr. Richards had ordered to treat the nausea and loss of energy. So far it is taking them weeks to approve anything for me and some things are not getting approved because they say there are less expensive medications out there that will work just as well. We have tried those – sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. I just do not have the financial means to purchase these medications out of my own pocket. Some of them are in excess of $300. Dr. Richards continues to be my advocate and fight with the insurance company. After an entire week of feeling lifeless, my husband called the doctor and made me go to the hospital. I went in, Dr. Richards looked at me and said “Oh no – something’s not right”. He told us that so far, I’m the only one on this regime of treatment that has had this many side effects. I think I’ve had every single side effect listed on the warnings. I was severely dehydrated, had a rash all over my body and my mouth still filled with ulcers. I hadn’t eaten in over a week. So far I’ve lost 19 pounds since beginning treatment. I was hurting all over and worst of all; my hair is now starting to thin very bad and very fast. Dr. Richards said I needed to be admitted so I could get IV fluids but I am scared of hospitals and did not want to stay over. He agreed to give me the IV fluids that day but I had to promise to come back the next two days to receive more.
It’s been about a week since I felt so bad and now I am feeling much better. The ulcers are clearing up, my face is still broken out, I still have a rash and my hair continues to thin, but I can eat!!! Oh man, have I wanted to eat but just couldn’t because of the ulcers and everything was just making me nauseated. I feel 5000 times better. Dr. Richards is decreasing my Lapatinib dosage and we will see how that goes. I go for my 4th treatment on July 31.
The next hurdle I had to face was the loss of my hair. I knew going into treatment that this would be the absolute lowest point of my treatment. I had tried to prepare myself in every possible way but until you actually see your hair in clumps in your hand, there is NO way to really prepare yourself mentally. I knew it was time to let it go when I found myself not wanting to shower because I knew it would come out even more. After tons of tears and talking it over with my husband, I decided it was time. It was time to just shave it off and get it over with. My husband decided to take on the task of shaving it for me so that we could deal with it and cry about it in the privacy of our own home. The whole time he was shaving my head he was telling me how beautiful I was. I have the most wonderful husband in the whole wide world. My Aunt Diane was there as well. After it was done, she held me tight and with tears filling her eyes, she told me it would be okay and now we needed to focus on the big picture and beat the cancer. My family and friends have purchased a human hair wig for me. My hairdresser and friend, Kelly, has cut it, styled it and colored it to make it look almost like my natural hair. Without my friends, family and Kelly, there is no way I could get through what I was about to face. With the medical bills starting to roll in, even after insurance has paid, there was no way I could have afforded this hair piece.
I am so grateful. I am going to continue my fight. I’m going to beat this thing. There is no way I’m going to let it beat me. I am a Survivor – To – Be!!! I’ve already survived the hardest part, facing the fact that I have cancer. Though this is a hard lesson in life, it has opened my eyes. I know more than ever that my family and friends are the most important things in life. We take so much for granted everyday. If I have a message for everyone out there, it would be to cherish everything and everyone in your life and as the old saying goes, live every day to the fullest. I would tell those going through what I'm going through to stay strong and keep up your fight. I realize that there is no cure for me (for now), but like the local Cancer Center commercial states – no one has tattooed an expiration date anywhere on my body – I’m a survivor. I will prevail. My life is in God’s hands and he will lead me down the road I’m meant to follow. Everything happens for a reason and even though I don’t know the reason this has happened to me, some day I’ll find out. Maybe it happened to me so I can help someone else someday – I can tell my story as I’m doing today and help someone else get through the trials and tribulations of fighting cancer.
I want to thank my family, my friends and my doctors for being there for me. Dr. Richards has been the most caring, understanding, gentle doctor ever. My family and friends have showered me with thoughts, prayers, cards, gifts, hugs and kisses. I’ve even received gifts and cards from people who have never layed eyes on me. I have realized that there are so many good people in this world. I want to be able to give back the support and love that has been given to me over these last few months. I know the financial burden will soon start weighing on me and my family. I don’t qualify for assistance outside of my insurance. Just 2 months in and the medical bills are starting to get overwhelming but I’m going to keep my chin up and try not to let this get me down anymore. I am worried. I want to make sure my doctors are paid. They deserve it but I can only do what I can do. It may take me 50 years to pay them, but I will. This gift you are giving is amazing. It would certainly help as I continue my journey through fighting cancer.
It all began in April when I found a lump on the side of my left breast. I thought to myself, “There is no way this can be what I think it is”, thus I chose to convince myself that it was nothing and it would go away. It had to. I am in the prime of my life, have a job I adore, the best family in the world and on top of all of that, I am healthy. Other than the occasional sniffle or seasonal allergy flare up, I’ve never been sick a day in my life. There is just no way this is cancer!! Another two weeks passed and the lump…well it was still there but again, it’ll go away – I’m not worried about it. A month passes, the lump is still there. I know I need to see a doctor but I just can’t – I don’t want to know. It wasn’t until one night, my husband, Jerry and I were going to bed and he put his arms around me to tell me good night and he too, felt the lump. I had not told him about it prior to this. “What’s that? That’s not natural” he said. At that moment, I realized I had to go to the doctor. There was no way he was going to allow me to wait another day. The next morning I made the dreaded appointment. I also decided to share my problem with my sister, Kim. We have a promise to each other – no secrets…ever, no matter how bad they might be.
I went to the local Breast Care Specialist, Dr. Henry. This was on Thursday before Memorial Day weekend. With fear in my heart, I walked in and within a few minutes I was undergoing my very first mammogram. Not so bad! The doctor then took me into an exam room, said the mammogram did not show anything but he wanted to do a physical breast exam. Once he felt the area of suspicion, he then decided an Ultrasound was needed. After the Ultrasound, he then advised he wanted to do a biopsy. Despite the fear and anxiety that I’m already feeling about possibly having cancer, I am terrified of needles. It took everything I had to hold it together. I survived the biopsy and was then was told the results would take about 2-3 days but since it was a holiday weekend, they wouldn’t know anything until Tuesday. How am I going to get through the weekend? Unfortunately, over that weekend, my grandfather who is my angel, my hero, suffered a heart attack. All I could think about was him and how I was going to tell him and my family if my results were not good. My family was already going through so much with my grandfather’s illness (heart and lung disease). I didn’t want to add to their worries.
The weekend passed. It was the longest weekend of my life. Tuesday came and the hours went by. I carried my phone with me everywhere waiting for the call. Finally later that afternoon, the phone rang and even though I didn’t want to answer it, I had to. My heart was racing, my body trembling. Dr. Henry spoke and all I heard was “It’s Cancer”. My entire body became numb and tears starting pouring. My employer knew what I had just heard and after lots of hugs from my boss and coworkers, he sent me home. My sister-in-law, Missy, who also works with me, was not about to let me be alone so she drove me home and stayed with me until my husband got there. On the way home, I stopped at my sister’s job to break the news to her. I had to do it in person. She took one look at me and she knew the news was not good. We embraced each other and neither of us wanted to let go. You see, my sister and I are so close that when one of us experiences something good or bad, so does the other one. We cried, we laughed a little and we promised each other that this was just a small bump in the road and we would get through it. I was devastated inside, but all I could think about was making sure my sister didn’t have cancer too….she doesn’t. What a relief. I also knew at this point that I had to at least tell my mom and dad I had cancer. Again, this is something I had to do in person and one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. They were both so supportive and they let me know they would be with me through this, every step of the way. I then decided that no one else could know right now. I had to deal with this myself before I told anyone else. I had no idea when or if I would tell another soul. Depending on my treatment, I may not tell them. I may be able to get through this without anyone else needing to know. There was no way my grandparents could find out. I was scared to death that if I told my grandfather, he would have another heart attack and I just couldn’t take that chance. There is no way I can lose him now. I have to be his rock.
A few days after being diagnosed, I revisited Dr. Henry to go over my options and to get scheduled for more tests – MRI, CT, X-rays and blood work. Oh nooooooo, more needles. Just thinking about needles makes me cry. It was going to be another two weeks before the tests could be done. During the weeks preceding the tests and the week following the tests, I had somewhat come to terms with the fact that I had cancer. It wasn’t going away and I had to deal with it. I had also convinced myself that it had to be early stages of cancer because the lump had not been there very long and I had just had a normal breast exam just a year prior. Dr. Henry had already told me that I would have to have a mastectomy, but you know what….that’s okay. You see, God did not bless me with a large chest – as a matter of fact, I have no chest. I’m going to go get my mastectomy with reconstruction and finally for the first time in my life, I will be able to wear a “big girl bra”. My sister and I even went shopping one weekend and we looked at big girl bras. It was so exciting and we had so much fun. We laughed and we ran around shopping like two teenagers out on our own for the very first time. Even though having cancer is terrible, at that moment I felt that at least something good would come of it and I had accepted the disease.
Finally, the day arrived that I would get the results of my tests and I could move forward with getting this little green monster they call “Cancer” out of my body. My husband and I went in, sat down in Dr. Henry’s office and we could not believe what we were hearing. What else could they tell me, right? Well they managed to give me more bad news. The MRI showed something in my liver and in my sinus cavity. Again, he could not say whether or not it was cancer but another test was needed and he sent me to an oncologist, Dr. Richards. They tell me he is the best. I was devastated – there was just no way. The test had to be wrong. I hoped and prayed it was just a benign cyst in my liver.On Friday, I went to see Dr. Richards. It was on this visit that once again, he gave me even more bad news – my cancer was HER2neu positive, meaning these HER2 cells were attaching them to my cancer, making the cancer more aggressive and making it spread much faster. I just wanted to die at that moment. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m healthy, I’m strong and you are telling me I’m sick. I’m not sick – I don’t feel sick, I don’t look sick. I’m not sick!! Dr. Richards scheduled me to have a PET scan. It was going to be another few weeks before this scan could be done. You can’t imagine what was going through my head. They were telling me I have a very aggressive, fast moving cancer yet I have to wait another few weeks to get this test? I just wanted them to take the tumors out right then before they could spread anywhere else in my body. I had so many questions and I was just in a complete state of shock. I was still determined that I could not tell anyone else at this time. My husband, myself, my sister, my mom and my dad all had to walk around with big smiles on our face like nothing was happening but deep inside, we were all sharing the deepest, darkest secret of our lives.
I had the PET scan just a few days before I was scheduled to go on vacation. The results would be in while I was on vacation. Do I have them call me while I’m on vacation or do I wait? My husband was encouraging me to wait. Waiting a few extra days is not going to change the results. We can try and have a good time and put all of this behind us for a week or we can find out and if bad news, ruin the entire trip. On the other hand, I’m thinking it’s going to be good news which means we can have a great trip. Before I left, I also knew it was time to tell my grandparents. They deserved to know and I was so scared they would find out from someone other than me. I knew they would be overwhelmed but I also knew by now that I couldn’t hide my disease from them. With the HER2 cancer, I would have to have chemo – there is no other option for treatment. I’m going to lose my hair and probably be sick. I can’t hide this from my grandparents and the rest of our family. I told my grandparents and even though they were upset, they took the news well and were very supportive. I also allowed them to let others in our family know as well. I called my Aunt Diane for some needed support. She is a 10 year survivor of breast cancer and I knew if there was anyone that could talk me through this disease, it would be her. She’s been through it and knowing her story, I knew I could get through it as well. One day I too could be cured forever.
The next day after telling my grandparents, my worst fear happened. Remember when I told you that I didn’t want to tell my grandfather for fear that he would have another heart attack? Well he did. Even though my family assured me that my news was not the cause of his heart attack, no one was going to convince me otherwise. I was so upset. How could I have done this? I should have listened to my heart and not let anyone convince me to tell him. It took several days, but once I knew he was going to be okay, I realized that it wasn’t me that caused his heart attack. He is doing good now and is one of my biggest supporters.
I went on my vacation and had the time of my life. This vacation was spent with my husband, boss and coworkers. My employer takes us on a trip every two years and it was much needed. It was a good way to take my mind off of what was going on for a few days. By the way, I opted not to get my test results until I came home. I had an appointment on Monday after I returned home to visit Dr. Richards.
Myself, my husband and my sister went to Dr. Richards office on that bright, sunny Monday morning. I just knew I was going to get good news. Dr. Richards came in and after a little chit-chat; the words came out of his mouth. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the news is not good. I’m 100% positive that the cancer has metastasized into your liver. I can’t cure your cancer, but I can treat it”. I looked at him and said “I feel like you just gave me my death sentence”. All he could say was “I’m sorry”. I asked him how long I had and he replied that he did not know. He felt he could put me into remission for perhaps a year or two and then from there we would just keep fighting it. The three of us cried our eyes out, sat and listened as Dr. Richards explained my treatment options. I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing – not only do I have breast cancer, but I have HER2neu positive breast cancer and it has metastasized into my liver – Stage IV. We opted to try a new treatment, a new clinical trial that has never been tried in my area. I would be put on Abraxane (chemotherapy medication) and Lapatinib medication to treat the HER2 cells. My treatment would begin immediately. What about my surgery? I wanted to know when they were going to remove the green monsters inside my breast and liver. Then came another blow. Dr. Richards explained that they would not be doing surgery. There was no need to do the surgery right now. He is hoping the treatment will shrink or completely remove the tumors. Now I’m not going to get my big girl bras.
My treatment started and I’m 4 weeks in. One the first day of treatment, I had the port put in and immediately following, I received my first dose of poison. I go once a week for 3 weeks, and then I get a week off. I have a total of 24 treatments to endure. My mom goes with me weekly and sits with me through my treatment. She is my “Chemo Buddy”. Treatment has definitely not been a picnic. After my first treatment, I did become sick, nauseated, tired and anxious. The second week was wonderful. I took my treatment, no nausea, I wasn’t tired – hey, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all, other than eventually losing my hair. My 3rd week came, I did okay but within a few days, my world started crumbling. I was throwing up, exhausted, I had excruciating pain in my legs, my face was breaking out, I had ulcers in my mouth, etc... This was the beginning of my hell. I couldn’t work; I could hardly get out of bed. I was miserable. The insurance company was not approving much needed medications that Dr. Richards had ordered to treat the nausea and loss of energy. So far it is taking them weeks to approve anything for me and some things are not getting approved because they say there are less expensive medications out there that will work just as well. We have tried those – sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. I just do not have the financial means to purchase these medications out of my own pocket. Some of them are in excess of $300. Dr. Richards continues to be my advocate and fight with the insurance company. After an entire week of feeling lifeless, my husband called the doctor and made me go to the hospital. I went in, Dr. Richards looked at me and said “Oh no – something’s not right”. He told us that so far, I’m the only one on this regime of treatment that has had this many side effects. I think I’ve had every single side effect listed on the warnings. I was severely dehydrated, had a rash all over my body and my mouth still filled with ulcers. I hadn’t eaten in over a week. So far I’ve lost 19 pounds since beginning treatment. I was hurting all over and worst of all; my hair is now starting to thin very bad and very fast. Dr. Richards said I needed to be admitted so I could get IV fluids but I am scared of hospitals and did not want to stay over. He agreed to give me the IV fluids that day but I had to promise to come back the next two days to receive more.
It’s been about a week since I felt so bad and now I am feeling much better. The ulcers are clearing up, my face is still broken out, I still have a rash and my hair continues to thin, but I can eat!!! Oh man, have I wanted to eat but just couldn’t because of the ulcers and everything was just making me nauseated. I feel 5000 times better. Dr. Richards is decreasing my Lapatinib dosage and we will see how that goes. I go for my 4th treatment on July 31.
The next hurdle I had to face was the loss of my hair. I knew going into treatment that this would be the absolute lowest point of my treatment. I had tried to prepare myself in every possible way but until you actually see your hair in clumps in your hand, there is NO way to really prepare yourself mentally. I knew it was time to let it go when I found myself not wanting to shower because I knew it would come out even more. After tons of tears and talking it over with my husband, I decided it was time. It was time to just shave it off and get it over with. My husband decided to take on the task of shaving it for me so that we could deal with it and cry about it in the privacy of our own home. The whole time he was shaving my head he was telling me how beautiful I was. I have the most wonderful husband in the whole wide world. My Aunt Diane was there as well. After it was done, she held me tight and with tears filling her eyes, she told me it would be okay and now we needed to focus on the big picture and beat the cancer. My family and friends have purchased a human hair wig for me. My hairdresser and friend, Kelly, has cut it, styled it and colored it to make it look almost like my natural hair. Without my friends, family and Kelly, there is no way I could get through what I was about to face. With the medical bills starting to roll in, even after insurance has paid, there was no way I could have afforded this hair piece.
I am so grateful. I am going to continue my fight. I’m going to beat this thing. There is no way I’m going to let it beat me. I am a Survivor – To – Be!!! I’ve already survived the hardest part, facing the fact that I have cancer. Though this is a hard lesson in life, it has opened my eyes. I know more than ever that my family and friends are the most important things in life. We take so much for granted everyday. If I have a message for everyone out there, it would be to cherish everything and everyone in your life and as the old saying goes, live every day to the fullest. I would tell those going through what I'm going through to stay strong and keep up your fight. I realize that there is no cure for me (for now), but like the local Cancer Center commercial states – no one has tattooed an expiration date anywhere on my body – I’m a survivor. I will prevail. My life is in God’s hands and he will lead me down the road I’m meant to follow. Everything happens for a reason and even though I don’t know the reason this has happened to me, some day I’ll find out. Maybe it happened to me so I can help someone else someday – I can tell my story as I’m doing today and help someone else get through the trials and tribulations of fighting cancer.
I want to thank my family, my friends and my doctors for being there for me. Dr. Richards has been the most caring, understanding, gentle doctor ever. My family and friends have showered me with thoughts, prayers, cards, gifts, hugs and kisses. I’ve even received gifts and cards from people who have never layed eyes on me. I have realized that there are so many good people in this world. I want to be able to give back the support and love that has been given to me over these last few months. I know the financial burden will soon start weighing on me and my family. I don’t qualify for assistance outside of my insurance. Just 2 months in and the medical bills are starting to get overwhelming but I’m going to keep my chin up and try not to let this get me down anymore. I am worried. I want to make sure my doctors are paid. They deserve it but I can only do what I can do. It may take me 50 years to pay them, but I will. This gift you are giving is amazing. It would certainly help as I continue my journey through fighting cancer.
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