I’m used to making lists:
To-do lists.
Grocery lists.
Books I want to read.
Gifts I need to buy.
Places I want to visit.
When I was 29 years old, fate gave me a new list I hadn’t planned on…ways to live with Multiple Sclerosis. I was diagnosed one week after I started dating my future-husband, Louie. The first few months were paralyzing, both emotionally and physically. Since I was hospital-bound for weeks, Louie stayed with me until and beyond the time my family arrived. His commitment, compassion and initiative impressed both me and my family. I couldn’t help but fall in love with him. We married in 2001.
While we were planning our wedding, Louie’s dad became ill with stage IV brain cancer (Glioblastoma), with a prognosis of six months to live. We immediately moved up our wedding and decided to get married in Los Angeles instead of Seattle. It was important to have Louie’s dad there to share our day. We lost him during our first year of marriage.
Cancer has always been a constant in both Louie’s and my life. Both of our mothers are cancer survivors; Louie’s mom had breast cancer and my mom has faced breast cancer several times, endometriosis and thyroid cancers. Seeing them survive time and again was encouraging even before my diagnosis. Because of our family history, and knowing we wanted to start a family, I decided to go for genetic testing. I learned that I was a BRAC1 carrier. While this news was devastating, we didn’t have a lot of time to let it sink in…I was 35 and my biological clock was ticking. Getting pregnant was easy, but I had to stop all MS medication for six months. This was a risky decision, but we were committed to starting a family. We actually got pregnant the first month we tried, miscarried and tried again a month later. Success! There was nothing I wanted more than to be a mother.
Because of the MS and as a BRAC1 gene carrier, mine was a “high risk” pregnancy. I was closely monitored throughout my pregnancy, and in my seventh month faced an Inflammatory Breast Cancer scare. They performed a punch biopsy. Once again, Louie was by my side. Four painful samples and one “woozy” husband later, we each had our own nurse and smelling salts! Fortunately, the results came back clear and my pregnancy continued smoothly. I gave birth to a healthy 7lb. 13oz. boy on February 27, 2007.
Now for the fun part…
Three months after the birth of my son, I went in for my bi-annual breast exam. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The news made me numb and suddenly I was challenged to make new lists…this time, to battle a new illness. Despite our preparation with genetic counselors, we were braced for the possibility but not the reality. The hospital gave me the news by phone, without any plan of attack. As luck would have it, I met an oncologist at church the next Sunday. I briefly told her about my diagnosis for some informal advice, and she insisted that I visit her office the next morning. Somebody was watching out for me. Within three hours, she set me up with all the necessary tests, scans and doctors that I would need in the coming months. I finally had a plan…and a new list. A weight was lifted off of my shoulders that day, and I am still grateful to her.
From the time that I had been genetically tested, Louie and I decided that I would get both breasts removed if I was diagnosed with cancer, so that decision was a no-brainer. It was a little strange to go from a D-cup to a nothing-cup. Although, having no breasts had an upside—no more backaches!
It was almost a year ago that I had my bilateral mastectomy, followed by six rounds of chemotherapy. I am currently undergoing Herceptin. Chemotherapy and I have a hate-love relationship. I hated how it made me feel, but I loved its potential to kill the cancer.
I figured if I HAD to undergo chemo, I was determined to make the best of it. So, I decided to…make a list!1) Weight loss
2) No shaving or waxing3) New hairstyles
To make a long story short, I gained twenty pounds. I still have a hairy lip. But I do have a fabulous collection of new scarves.
During the weeks of my treatments, I won’t kid you…I was not a pleasant person. I was very scared and found myself doubting its effects and benefits. I hated the way it made me feel–tired, achy, bloated, nauseous and, most importantly, incapable of taking care of my own child.
Believe it or not, the toughest thing for me to deal with is that “it is not recommended” that we have any more children and I will have to make a decision about getting a hysterectomy soon. I was just born to be a mother and I’ve always dreamed of having a big family.
I was not Yianni’s primary caregiver during his first year…his grandparents and Louie were. I feared that the chemicals would be too toxic, so I kept my distance from the baby. I now make lists of all that I want to experience with him: taking him to parks, indoor “kiddie” gyms, storytime at the bookstore, sing-alongs, reading and doing puzzles. Recently, Yianni and I slow-danced for the first time in his music class. It was more than a dance; it was a minute-and-a-half that filled my heart with an overwhelming love. I’m tired of being the “sick mom” and I’m even more determined for him not to miss out on anything because of my illness.
I have learned to live in the Now. The laundry and dirty dishes can wait. Family cannot.
I also learned how uplifting the human spirit can be. People can surprise you. I know, because since my diagnosis, they have surprised me time and again. Their capacity to give (their time, talents and prayers) amazes me. As a very independent person, it was hard to accept all the help that was being offered by friends and family. From playing with my son and bringing us home-cooked meals to phone calls, cards scarves, and inspirational books– this generous list continues. I have a newfound compassion for others and I will strive to return the favor every single day. I am asked regularly to talk with others who have been diagnosed with cancer or MS. I always tell them to not let their illness change them or take over their lives. It’s just an obstacle; a bump in the road.My greatest hope…is to give them hope.
My future looks bright! My multiple sclerosis has been quiet. As for the cancer, I will finish Herceptin in September and have reconstruction surgery in October. I have begun psychiatric therapy to deal with the ever-present thoughts of illness and death which live in the back of my mind. I can’t imagine my son without a mother and I am determined to do everything in my power to make myself whole. I know one day I will hear the words cancer-free. And I can’t wait.
Getting to this point has been quite a journey. Since my diagnosis, I make more lists than ever. But one list remains top priority:
Courage…check.
Love…check.
Hope…check.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Eva's Story
“The greater difficulty, the more glory in surmounting.”
~ Epicurus, Greek philosopher, BC 341-270
When I was growing up as a young girl I never knew anyone having cancer. I did not know anything about the disease. I only knew that people died from cancer. Little did I know that one day I would also have to face this dreadful disease, Cancer. My doctors are baffled, bewildered, and incredulous from the many cancers that I have had and survived in my lifetime. I am a true cancer survivor.
When I was a twenty-three year old young woman I found a lump in my breast. Fearfully, I quickly went to my doctor and received my original breast cancer diagnosis and had the lump removed. The Dr. told me that everything was fine however, two weeks later I came back for my follow-up check-up and the Dr. explained different, ‘news,’ that all the reports were not in from the labs and indeed there was more cancer. Leaving the office, I was devastated and crying, I drove home in a state of shock and was fortunate enough even that I made it home in that frame of mind.
Telling my parents was heart-breaking: it was horrendous news to deliver and they were so paralyzed they could not speak. My parents were immigrants and did not speak English, immediately they called the priest of our church, who introduced me to Dr. Charles McMahon, a surgeon. After seeing the surgeon, he verified my lab reports and mysteriously could not locate any. Therefore, to make sure, he had new labs done revealing that I needed to have another surgery to remove a wedge from the same place as before, so back to the hospital for another surgery. He had good news though, no cancer. We were all elated; my mother had a delicious dinner prepared along with the loving company of her sister and her family. We were a very close-knit family: with my aunt and her family. Little did we know that my beloved aunt would perish from breast cancer later in life at the age of fifty-four years.
After my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer, my dearly loved mother had herself checked as a precaution and unfortunately she also had breast cancer. Luckily, it was removed very early and she did not need any treatments and lived to be almost eighty-one years old. Knowing the above, I was having yearly check-ups and mammograms.
In 1970, I was married to a wonderful man and we have been married for thirty-seven years. We had two great children and now are proud grandparents of four beautiful grandchildren, we were truly enjoying our normal family life.
In 1985 my husband had a heart attack at the age of forty-one. He underwent five bypass surgeries, and post surgeries, continued to have annual check-ups. In 1987, I went in for a mammogram and found that I had cancer in my other breast. A lumpectomy was necessary as it was cancer. After surgery, the Dr. recommended radiation and medications to treat cancer. I thought that was it and I continued working, raising our children, taking care of my husband, my usual activities, etc.
In 1994, during my annual mammogram another lump on my right breast was found: I was crushed, ‘Oh no, not again,’ I sobbed. Tests and procedures ensued and at this point it was standard operating procedure: I had an ultrasound, needle biopsy. I will never forget the specific Dr. who conducted that needle biopsy: he was the worst (quite possibly I was his first patient ever) and I was not encouraged just laying flat on a table with my breast hanging down the small hole: he poked and prodded so many times I screamed in agony. He got me up off the table and wrapped me in a robe and drove me a couple of blocks for another ultrasound and I was horrified yet again at the experience and the results. Trembling, sweating, tears streaming down my face: what heinous treatment and I never went to see that Dr. again. Looking back, I should have reported the Dr., but I was more concerned with my health and removing the cancerous lump. The treatments, radiation, etc. followed and after those I thought I was in the free and clear and continued my normal life.
In 2000, yet again on my annual mammogram I saw the Dr.’s face, by now the expression was a tragically familiar one, it was cancer. The Dr. sternly said, ‘I don’t like what I see,’ we need to do an ultrasound and a needle biopsy as it was certainly cancerous. This time I had to make a big decision: all of my Dr.’s sat me down and put in plain words, ‘You have no other option but to have a double mastectomy.’ The walls came crashing down and I was crying from fear of the cancer, the big surgery and was scared of the way my chest would look post surgery: my breasts, my womanhood. Questions arose: how was I going to face such a big surgery, such a life altering operation? The Dr.’s assured me that this was the best thing to do. I recognized that this was the right thing to do in order to save my life. I had so much to live for: my children, grandchildren and husband to nurture and as well as elderly parents. After consulting with many specialists, going in for second and third opinions, changing Dr.’s and medications, I finally made my decision. I have done it all yet not without the support of my family and friends. My parents supported me in their own way: as religious people, after my father’s stroke he would sit at the end of the couch listening to his favorite folk music and reading prayer books for me daily.
After my mastectomy, I had a very difficult time with the strapping around my chest, it was tedious for me dealing with the loss of my breasts and how this altered my role as a woman and as well as dealing with my numerous bouts of cancer. The Dr.’s found three cancers on one breast and one on the other, I gasped, ‘four, oh my God, was I going to make it? I had to have chemotherapy, radiation, heavy medications. After I had my extenders inserted I kept having problems in my right breast, i.e. staph infections and had to have my extenders removed three times. In addition, my treatment included antibiotics and I still need to go through reconstruction in my right breast.
Also, I just wasn’t doing well at all, this is when my oncologist Dr. Goodman recommended that I take a medication to make me feel better, and suggested Prozac. I had heard that Prozac can make you do many strange things and told Dr. Goodman this and that I may come down to his office and do crazy things which he laughed at and said, ‘I’ll take my chances.’ He assured me as always that it was going to be o.k. Going through chemo was the worst, the thorniest thing I had to do. More than my surgeries and radiation, the chemo annihilated me... I just needed to rest a lot.
In the meantime, I was off of work for quite while yet wanted to return, to which Dr. Goodman replied that I must be crazy. Evidently, crazy and stubborn, I returned to work with no breaks so that I could go home early and sleep. I had a flexible time schedule, which was helpful. I worked for a medical insurance company and did not wish to loose my benefits. Staying occupied was a priority in maintaining my sanity. I never wanted to feel sorry for myself and plenty of people including my coworkers were not aware of my, ‘situation,’ as I was very private. There was an intense amount of, ‘fear’ from the cancers: loosing my hair, constantly being sick, taking showers and witnessing my hair go down the drain, being so fragile and weak, I despised my condition and it was a dark time. I longed to be by myself with the door closed and the drapes drawn, no noises. Simply quiet.
After using all of my sick leave, my coworkers selflessly gifted me with theirs. One day at work, I was wearing a wig and was using the rest room and a coworker looked at me and said, ‘oh you look sick,’ I gazed at her and said, ‘I am very sick.’ The sympathy welled up in her eyes and she gave me a big hug, after that we became good friends and she would bring me flowers once a week placing them on my desk before I arrived at work. What a lovely gesture and a good person.
Despite the support, I continued to feel depressed; I was not responsive to any medications! I knew that my attitude had to change: by accentuating the positive and changing my perception of what my life had become: I began to feel my life turn around. Additionally, with the assistance of a counselor and many sessions with Leah de Roulet, MSW, I was helped with learning how to cope and we continue to be friends to this day.
After the surgery I developed lymphodema in my right arm which was perpetually swollen and continues to be which makes everything difficult and uncomfortable. After a year of physical therapy I am still wearing a, ‘sleeve,’ at all times, it is not convenient being that I am right-handed, yet I try to do my best.
Most of the time during my reoccurrences and recouping from them, I wore a wig, scarf and many hats. I remember after church one morning my little niece said, ‘Aunt Eva I saw your hair move. How did you do that? I replied, ‘I can only do that, it’s magic.’ I continue to do my daily activities and thought that I was done.
This time the Dr.’s found a lump in my throat: thyroid cancer. I had to be hospitalized to have the nuclear medicine treatment: surgery came first (leaving me unable to talk) and then I had to drink the nuclear liquid medication. I had to be isolated, no one could be in the room, everything was covered with plastic saran wrap, even the telephone, etc. After coming home, I had to continue in isolation for a week; not sharing anything with the rest of the family, again, the depression set in, the isolation, as I could not be close with anyone (no touching, no hugs). I was in pain and also felt that I had put my family through so much already: my entire medical issues all over again. They always put my mind at ease though, tenderly saying, ‘that it was o.k. with them and that they still loved me and nothing else mattered.’
In 2002, I was chronically exhausted; I saw my doctor and after lab tests, an ultra sound, cat scans, MRI’s, they said something looked, ‘suspicious,’ and required surgery. This time it was necessary that I have a complete hysterectomy due to my breast cancers. Again, like a broken record, the doctors performed another surgery, this time it was endometriosis cancer. When I awoke from surgery I knew that it was cancer again and I would have to endure strong chemo and radiation. When the girls saw me at the radiation oncology department, they could not believe it, that it was, ‘me again.’ Radiation I could handle but chemo was tough! Chemo was the big one…After eventually feeling better, Dr. Goodman suggested since I have kids to go to the University of Washington and get gene testing done. Thank God for that test as it saved my daughter’s life.
She became pregnant with her first child and soon after the Dr. found a lump in her breast (a mother’s worst nightmare) to see her daughter have cancer especially after just giving birth to a child. I said I would rather have it be me having cancer again than my daughter. This was a trying and painful time of my life. We were in California where they reside off and on for about one year taking care of her and her gorgeous baby boy, who we called, ‘The Miracle Baby.’
My many reoccurrences and experiences with different forms of cancer showed me that it is not easy to write about, to recall the many sad memories. I am a survivor after so many bouts with cancers and would like to help others with my story. I have learned from these experiences: I am a stronger Individual, Mother, Wife, Daughter and Friend and strongly believe that there is someone very special watching over all of us. I am a strong believer in God, I pray each morning and thank Him for all the blessings he has given me.
Currently, I keep myself busy and occupied with my family, favorite people, my children and grandchildren, with reading, going to coffee, lunch, shopping with my best friend, digging in my garden. Also, with my friend’s assistance, we research on the internet about cancer and the latest treatments. I would suggest doing your, ‘homework,’ if you are diagnosed as well as researching your Dr.’s to find someone you are comfortable with (a good fit) and who inspires confidence.
To the women and families facing the disease today, the lessons I have learned going through breast and other cancers and if I were a national spokesperson for surviving breast cancer: One of my catch phrases which brought me through difficult times during my many cancers is, ‘This too shall Pass.’ My hope is that you think positive, is kind to yourself, family & friends, do good things in life and good things will happen to you. Learn how to love, give, forgive, always keep yourself busy whatever that may be, be happy and enjoy life.
Will I have another reoccurrence? I will have to cross that bridge when I come to it. I feel lucky and blessed to be alive even to write and share my story to help others.
What is most significant and important in my life today are: I want my daughter to stay healthy and raise her, ‘Miracle Baby,’ and I want to stay healthy and be with my children and grandchildren to help them in any way that I possibly can. Life is beautiful so enjoy it.
“You don’t develop courage by being happy in your relationships everyday. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.”
~ Epicurus, Greek philosopher, BC 341-270
~ Epicurus, Greek philosopher, BC 341-270
When I was growing up as a young girl I never knew anyone having cancer. I did not know anything about the disease. I only knew that people died from cancer. Little did I know that one day I would also have to face this dreadful disease, Cancer. My doctors are baffled, bewildered, and incredulous from the many cancers that I have had and survived in my lifetime. I am a true cancer survivor.
When I was a twenty-three year old young woman I found a lump in my breast. Fearfully, I quickly went to my doctor and received my original breast cancer diagnosis and had the lump removed. The Dr. told me that everything was fine however, two weeks later I came back for my follow-up check-up and the Dr. explained different, ‘news,’ that all the reports were not in from the labs and indeed there was more cancer. Leaving the office, I was devastated and crying, I drove home in a state of shock and was fortunate enough even that I made it home in that frame of mind.
Telling my parents was heart-breaking: it was horrendous news to deliver and they were so paralyzed they could not speak. My parents were immigrants and did not speak English, immediately they called the priest of our church, who introduced me to Dr. Charles McMahon, a surgeon. After seeing the surgeon, he verified my lab reports and mysteriously could not locate any. Therefore, to make sure, he had new labs done revealing that I needed to have another surgery to remove a wedge from the same place as before, so back to the hospital for another surgery. He had good news though, no cancer. We were all elated; my mother had a delicious dinner prepared along with the loving company of her sister and her family. We were a very close-knit family: with my aunt and her family. Little did we know that my beloved aunt would perish from breast cancer later in life at the age of fifty-four years.
After my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer, my dearly loved mother had herself checked as a precaution and unfortunately she also had breast cancer. Luckily, it was removed very early and she did not need any treatments and lived to be almost eighty-one years old. Knowing the above, I was having yearly check-ups and mammograms.
In 1970, I was married to a wonderful man and we have been married for thirty-seven years. We had two great children and now are proud grandparents of four beautiful grandchildren, we were truly enjoying our normal family life.
In 1985 my husband had a heart attack at the age of forty-one. He underwent five bypass surgeries, and post surgeries, continued to have annual check-ups. In 1987, I went in for a mammogram and found that I had cancer in my other breast. A lumpectomy was necessary as it was cancer. After surgery, the Dr. recommended radiation and medications to treat cancer. I thought that was it and I continued working, raising our children, taking care of my husband, my usual activities, etc.
In 1994, during my annual mammogram another lump on my right breast was found: I was crushed, ‘Oh no, not again,’ I sobbed. Tests and procedures ensued and at this point it was standard operating procedure: I had an ultrasound, needle biopsy. I will never forget the specific Dr. who conducted that needle biopsy: he was the worst (quite possibly I was his first patient ever) and I was not encouraged just laying flat on a table with my breast hanging down the small hole: he poked and prodded so many times I screamed in agony. He got me up off the table and wrapped me in a robe and drove me a couple of blocks for another ultrasound and I was horrified yet again at the experience and the results. Trembling, sweating, tears streaming down my face: what heinous treatment and I never went to see that Dr. again. Looking back, I should have reported the Dr., but I was more concerned with my health and removing the cancerous lump. The treatments, radiation, etc. followed and after those I thought I was in the free and clear and continued my normal life.
In 2000, yet again on my annual mammogram I saw the Dr.’s face, by now the expression was a tragically familiar one, it was cancer. The Dr. sternly said, ‘I don’t like what I see,’ we need to do an ultrasound and a needle biopsy as it was certainly cancerous. This time I had to make a big decision: all of my Dr.’s sat me down and put in plain words, ‘You have no other option but to have a double mastectomy.’ The walls came crashing down and I was crying from fear of the cancer, the big surgery and was scared of the way my chest would look post surgery: my breasts, my womanhood. Questions arose: how was I going to face such a big surgery, such a life altering operation? The Dr.’s assured me that this was the best thing to do. I recognized that this was the right thing to do in order to save my life. I had so much to live for: my children, grandchildren and husband to nurture and as well as elderly parents. After consulting with many specialists, going in for second and third opinions, changing Dr.’s and medications, I finally made my decision. I have done it all yet not without the support of my family and friends. My parents supported me in their own way: as religious people, after my father’s stroke he would sit at the end of the couch listening to his favorite folk music and reading prayer books for me daily.
After my mastectomy, I had a very difficult time with the strapping around my chest, it was tedious for me dealing with the loss of my breasts and how this altered my role as a woman and as well as dealing with my numerous bouts of cancer. The Dr.’s found three cancers on one breast and one on the other, I gasped, ‘four, oh my God, was I going to make it? I had to have chemotherapy, radiation, heavy medications. After I had my extenders inserted I kept having problems in my right breast, i.e. staph infections and had to have my extenders removed three times. In addition, my treatment included antibiotics and I still need to go through reconstruction in my right breast.
Also, I just wasn’t doing well at all, this is when my oncologist Dr. Goodman recommended that I take a medication to make me feel better, and suggested Prozac. I had heard that Prozac can make you do many strange things and told Dr. Goodman this and that I may come down to his office and do crazy things which he laughed at and said, ‘I’ll take my chances.’ He assured me as always that it was going to be o.k. Going through chemo was the worst, the thorniest thing I had to do. More than my surgeries and radiation, the chemo annihilated me... I just needed to rest a lot.
In the meantime, I was off of work for quite while yet wanted to return, to which Dr. Goodman replied that I must be crazy. Evidently, crazy and stubborn, I returned to work with no breaks so that I could go home early and sleep. I had a flexible time schedule, which was helpful. I worked for a medical insurance company and did not wish to loose my benefits. Staying occupied was a priority in maintaining my sanity. I never wanted to feel sorry for myself and plenty of people including my coworkers were not aware of my, ‘situation,’ as I was very private. There was an intense amount of, ‘fear’ from the cancers: loosing my hair, constantly being sick, taking showers and witnessing my hair go down the drain, being so fragile and weak, I despised my condition and it was a dark time. I longed to be by myself with the door closed and the drapes drawn, no noises. Simply quiet.
After using all of my sick leave, my coworkers selflessly gifted me with theirs. One day at work, I was wearing a wig and was using the rest room and a coworker looked at me and said, ‘oh you look sick,’ I gazed at her and said, ‘I am very sick.’ The sympathy welled up in her eyes and she gave me a big hug, after that we became good friends and she would bring me flowers once a week placing them on my desk before I arrived at work. What a lovely gesture and a good person.
Despite the support, I continued to feel depressed; I was not responsive to any medications! I knew that my attitude had to change: by accentuating the positive and changing my perception of what my life had become: I began to feel my life turn around. Additionally, with the assistance of a counselor and many sessions with Leah de Roulet, MSW, I was helped with learning how to cope and we continue to be friends to this day.
After the surgery I developed lymphodema in my right arm which was perpetually swollen and continues to be which makes everything difficult and uncomfortable. After a year of physical therapy I am still wearing a, ‘sleeve,’ at all times, it is not convenient being that I am right-handed, yet I try to do my best.
Most of the time during my reoccurrences and recouping from them, I wore a wig, scarf and many hats. I remember after church one morning my little niece said, ‘Aunt Eva I saw your hair move. How did you do that? I replied, ‘I can only do that, it’s magic.’ I continue to do my daily activities and thought that I was done.
This time the Dr.’s found a lump in my throat: thyroid cancer. I had to be hospitalized to have the nuclear medicine treatment: surgery came first (leaving me unable to talk) and then I had to drink the nuclear liquid medication. I had to be isolated, no one could be in the room, everything was covered with plastic saran wrap, even the telephone, etc. After coming home, I had to continue in isolation for a week; not sharing anything with the rest of the family, again, the depression set in, the isolation, as I could not be close with anyone (no touching, no hugs). I was in pain and also felt that I had put my family through so much already: my entire medical issues all over again. They always put my mind at ease though, tenderly saying, ‘that it was o.k. with them and that they still loved me and nothing else mattered.’
In 2002, I was chronically exhausted; I saw my doctor and after lab tests, an ultra sound, cat scans, MRI’s, they said something looked, ‘suspicious,’ and required surgery. This time it was necessary that I have a complete hysterectomy due to my breast cancers. Again, like a broken record, the doctors performed another surgery, this time it was endometriosis cancer. When I awoke from surgery I knew that it was cancer again and I would have to endure strong chemo and radiation. When the girls saw me at the radiation oncology department, they could not believe it, that it was, ‘me again.’ Radiation I could handle but chemo was tough! Chemo was the big one…After eventually feeling better, Dr. Goodman suggested since I have kids to go to the University of Washington and get gene testing done. Thank God for that test as it saved my daughter’s life.
She became pregnant with her first child and soon after the Dr. found a lump in her breast (a mother’s worst nightmare) to see her daughter have cancer especially after just giving birth to a child. I said I would rather have it be me having cancer again than my daughter. This was a trying and painful time of my life. We were in California where they reside off and on for about one year taking care of her and her gorgeous baby boy, who we called, ‘The Miracle Baby.’
My many reoccurrences and experiences with different forms of cancer showed me that it is not easy to write about, to recall the many sad memories. I am a survivor after so many bouts with cancers and would like to help others with my story. I have learned from these experiences: I am a stronger Individual, Mother, Wife, Daughter and Friend and strongly believe that there is someone very special watching over all of us. I am a strong believer in God, I pray each morning and thank Him for all the blessings he has given me.
Currently, I keep myself busy and occupied with my family, favorite people, my children and grandchildren, with reading, going to coffee, lunch, shopping with my best friend, digging in my garden. Also, with my friend’s assistance, we research on the internet about cancer and the latest treatments. I would suggest doing your, ‘homework,’ if you are diagnosed as well as researching your Dr.’s to find someone you are comfortable with (a good fit) and who inspires confidence.
To the women and families facing the disease today, the lessons I have learned going through breast and other cancers and if I were a national spokesperson for surviving breast cancer: One of my catch phrases which brought me through difficult times during my many cancers is, ‘This too shall Pass.’ My hope is that you think positive, is kind to yourself, family & friends, do good things in life and good things will happen to you. Learn how to love, give, forgive, always keep yourself busy whatever that may be, be happy and enjoy life.
Will I have another reoccurrence? I will have to cross that bridge when I come to it. I feel lucky and blessed to be alive even to write and share my story to help others.
What is most significant and important in my life today are: I want my daughter to stay healthy and raise her, ‘Miracle Baby,’ and I want to stay healthy and be with my children and grandchildren to help them in any way that I possibly can. Life is beautiful so enjoy it.
“You don’t develop courage by being happy in your relationships everyday. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.”
~ Epicurus, Greek philosopher, BC 341-270
Carol's Story
Hi, my name is Carol and I was diagnosed with breast cancer in August 2006. I wish there was a quick way to tell my story, I really tried but it isn't possible. I will try to only put in the largest details of the hardest year of my life.
I have had fibroid tumors removed three different times in the last twenty five years. Every time I got one I thought it was all over till the lumpectomy was done proving it wasn't. I always thought that if anyone ever told me I had cancer I wouln't need to worry about it because I would drop dead of a heart attack. That is not what happened. I had always been good at getting my mamograms on time every year. I had trouble with cysts also. I would allways worry. My doctor treated me like I was a hysteric and worry wort. He told me that cancer felt hard and imovable and did not hurt. A cyst hurt and wobbled when you pressed it with your fingers.
I eventually relaxed and went with this infor for the last 20 years.I took early retirement from Delta Airlines in 2002 to persue a career in art.I think the thing that made it really easy for me to get regular mamograms was that Delta had a bus come out every year and nurses did our mamograms for us on our lunch hour. When I retired this stopped and I got very busy painting.
The fall of 2004 my uncle got lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker and my mother and sister took turns taking care of him that winter.I think that is the first time I missed getting my mamo.He died that spring. The fall of 2005 my mother had to have open heart surgery so my sisters and I took turns taking care of her tell she was able to take care of herself. My father had passed away in 1998.This is the second time I forgot to get a mamogram. I found what I thought was a cyst in my left breast at this time. I didn't worry about it because I was sure it was a cyst. It wobbled, it hurt, and there was no history of breast cancer on either side of my family.My mother got well but that spring 2006 she was able to move into a better house. My sisters and our husbands spent everyday from The end of March to the end of May remodeling it to make it her little dream home.
During this time I was very tired but I chalked that up to working so hard on the house. I also didn't feel right. I couldn't put my finger on it but I had a feeling of not being well.The work finally done I had an Alaskan cruise with my husband planned for the end of June. I thought I would go to the doctor when I got back. I thought if this was another fibrous tumor I didn't want to have it removed before I left. I put it off till the middle of August.They did a mamogram then the radiologist wanted another look with an ultrasound.I laid there not worrying about anything and then he said I think this is cancer. I couln't believe my ears. I said how can you tell that.What are the chances it is versus it isn't. He said he was 95 pct sure it was. He did a needle biopsy. I just felt numb with disbelief. A single tear rolled down my cheek but I didn't cry.I had an odd sense that everything would be all right even if he was correct.
I called my mother and told her and she cried. Everyone I called cried. I'm the one who ended up consoling them.I decided right then that crying or feeling sorry for myself was not an option. I would only do and say things that were going to help me. After all what was the ulternative. I was going to need all my energy to fight this. Crying gave me a headache and sinus infection. I didn't need that on top of cancer. If something in no way helped especially if it in some way hurt it just put it away from me.
Orignally the tumour was thought to be the size of a very small pea and I would be in the early part of stage one. An MRI was done and the tumor was actually the size of a golf ball but it was thought that I was probably still technically in stage one. I had a great surgeon. He said we were going to do a new treatment that they have been having really good success in Italy.
First we would do chemo them surgery not the other way around as usual.He said that by doing chemo first they could tell if the chemo was actually working. If the chemo worked it would destroy the tumor or shrink it and then a lumpectomy could be done instead of a mastectomy. With a five year course of an estrogen blocker the chances of recurrance was only about 1 percent more with a lumpectomy over mastectomy.
His positive attitude was infectious ok I was feeling good. I went out and bought a wig that looked exactly like my hair. I knew it would be easier now than waiting till my hair was allready gone.My mother and I made plans on how she would stay with me and take care of me and go to all my appointments. My husband traveled for work at least once a week but was usually only gone one day.
Then two weeks after my diagnoses, the Saturday before Labor day my mother died of a brain hemorage. I was out to dinner with my husband when we got the call. We rushed to the hospital and were told that she was brain dead and no hope of recovery. Because it was the holiday weekend they were short staffed and had her put on a life flight helicopter to a bigger hospital. When we got there we were all told again that there was no possibility she would ever wake up. She was only living at the moment because of the life support machine. She had made a living will a couple of years before and put me down as executor. She told me under no circumstances was I to allow her to be kept on life support if it came to that. She said she gave the job to me because she thought I would be the strongest and she trusted me to do it. Was she crazy? What made her think I'm strong. I think I'm scared of everthing. A coulple of people in the family thought maybe we should give it a week or a month maybe the doctors are wrong. What if they are wrong. I signed the papers but I didn't allow them to turn off the machine till everyone had a chance to have a private goodby.She died about 20 minutes after they turned the machine off.
The following Saturday was the funeral. I was nervous because my sons fiance went into labor that morning. He was really a nervous wreck. He had to leave before the service started to go to the hospital. My friends organized a beautiful luncheon for after the funeral but my husband and I had to eat and run because we didn't want to miss our first grandbaby being born. That night Annie Leigh was born. Between grief and joy I don't think my body knew what to do. My mother wanted so bad to see that baby. She made quilts and blankets all summer. I think thats when I just went into auto pilot.
Two days later my port was put in my chest. It was outpatient surgery but the anesthisia made me very nauseous.I was sick all night. I thought how am I ever going to get through chemo. I'd rather have extreme pain than nausea. Its the one thing that really puts me away. I prayed for the strength to do what I had to do to get through this.One week later they started putting the red devil my veins.
My husband was wonderful. He insisted on going to all my treatments with me since my mother couldn't be with me.I could see it really bothered him to see the red poison going into me. A friend who went through this said it upset her really bad. She thought about how it was killing her blood cells and how poisonous it was. I decided to look at it as in this case poison was good. It was my friend it was killing the cancer. My blood cells could be delt with using Neulasta.It could all be delt with.I concentrated on doing everything they told me to do to keep the side effects down.
Ten days later I woke up in the morning and there was a clump of hair on my pillow. I touched my hair and it was coming out by the handful. My son said he wanted to shave my head when the time came so I called him to come over and do it. He suddenly chickened out. I thought I don't want to be picking up hair all over the house so I took the dog clippers and went out on the deck and buzzed it all off. I looked at the strange new me in the mirror and I surprisingly didn't think I looked that bad. I put my wig on and that was that. People who saw me that winter would say isn't it nice you didn't loose your hair.
My friends gave me soft, warm, comfy lounging pajamas and that is what I lived in. After the first treatement I could not feel the tumor any longer. The doctor couldn't believe it. A chip had to be put in so that when the surgery was done the doctor would know what area to take out.I got the sores in my mouth but managed them pretty well by doing what I was told. They never got unbearable. I didn't get the dereaded nausea either, however I got a really bad case of acid reflux which they said was a form of nausea. It really hurt and was very unpleasant but hey didn't I say I'd rather do anything even pain over nausea?
The Monday before Thanksgiving I was opening a jar and a horrible pain went up my arm. I looked down and it was purple. I went to the emergency room and they found I had a blood clot that went to my lung. I spent that week in the hospital. My luck was that I was put in a room that was right outside the life flight helicopter pad. I thought about my Mom and tried to stop the tears. I refused to die like this all alone listening to that thing land every half hour. I couldn't believe how often it was used.I didn't sleep all night so I slept all the next day.
Thanksgiving was postponed till I got home. The first one with Annie. Besides cancer another thing I'm terrified of is needles. Wouldn't you know that know because of the blood clot I have to give myself a shot in the stomach every day for two weeks. I can't stand anyone else to give me a shot I can't do this. For two days I drive 25 min each way to have a nurse give me the shot. This was a big inconvenience so I had them show me how.The funniest thing anyone has seen is the first time I had to stab myself in the stomach. I screamed, then looked up and said, oh that wasn't so bad.It was actually easier for me to do it than someone else. Needles no longer bother me.
Another lucky thing to come out of this. During this time on one of my good days I painted a pine china hutch in my kitchen white. No one could believe I had the strength to do that, but it made me happy. I felt like I bought a new piece of furniture. Just before Christmas I had my surgery. The tumor was only the size of a beebee.He got clean margines and my lymph nodes were clean. Hallelujah. The board decided that since the tumor wasn't completey gone, to be safe I need a round of a different chemo in case. My hair was about an inch long and it fell out again. This chemo wasn't quite as bad as the first but different. My finger nails and toe nails turned black, like I was recovering from them being hit with a hammer. They didn't actually fall off so no problem, nail polish and noone could tell.
I was very tired with all of this but all winter I listened everyday to beautiful music, and watched feel good movies. I couldn't do art or read because of the fuzzy brain chemo give you. Also my eyesight was effected and my glasses were no use. I was told not to get new ones for about six months after I was all through because they would get better and I didn't want to get new glasses twice.
May and I start six weeks of radiation. After all the chemo it seemed like a piece of cake. The tiredness was overwhelming and I did get blisters but I was finally done.My hair grew back. I don't think I'll ever grow it long again. I learned life if too short to be spending so much time doing my hair. There are much more important and fun things to do.
July 3 2008 was my one year mark.I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. I appreciate now all the things even the very small ones in my life so much more than I ever did. I realize what is important. My family and spending good quality time with them. The things that used to make me angry no longer do. They seem so unimportant.I look at everything differently.
One thing that happened when my radiation started that was worse to me than the whole cancer thing is, that my son and his fiancee split up. He was davastated. That was harder for me to watch than anything. But my new found positive way of looking at things has paid off there too. We have a good relationship with Annies mom. Custody was worked out to everyones satisfaction.
I'm painting again and have my old enthusiasm back. I've learned no matter how black something looks things will allways get better if you have the right attitude. I hated having cancer, it was really hard but I think it was worth the positive things I gained from it. Someone told me the other day that they thought I was the strongest person they know. They thought I could handle anything. I still don't feel like I'm strong but maybe that is what being strong is. Its not that you don't feel the pain as much as anyone else does you do. But you do what you need to do to get through it you don't buckle and cave.
Don't forget to get your mamograms. If I had gotten my mamograms when I should of it would have saved me lots and lots of agony. Getting detected early I would only have needed a lumpectomy and radiation.That would have been a piece of cake compared to all that chemo.I urge everyone who reads my story to really take this information to heart. Early detection can save your life and save you from being way sicker than you need to be. Also if you have a doctor that does not take any lump you have seriously, get another doctor. If they think it is a cyst it is an easy thing for them to aspirate it to make sure. I have a couple of friends who's doctors thought they had a cyst, tried to aspirate it and found it was not a cyst. When they did a needle biopsy which is also a relatively easy thing to do they found it was cancer. If they would have just assumed it was a cyst another year would have gone by. Another year of growth which could have meant the difference between life and death, or the difference between lumpectomy and mastectomy and radical treatment.You are just as important as everyone else. Take care of yourself so you can be around to take care of the ones you love.
I have had fibroid tumors removed three different times in the last twenty five years. Every time I got one I thought it was all over till the lumpectomy was done proving it wasn't. I always thought that if anyone ever told me I had cancer I wouln't need to worry about it because I would drop dead of a heart attack. That is not what happened. I had always been good at getting my mamograms on time every year. I had trouble with cysts also. I would allways worry. My doctor treated me like I was a hysteric and worry wort. He told me that cancer felt hard and imovable and did not hurt. A cyst hurt and wobbled when you pressed it with your fingers.
I eventually relaxed and went with this infor for the last 20 years.I took early retirement from Delta Airlines in 2002 to persue a career in art.I think the thing that made it really easy for me to get regular mamograms was that Delta had a bus come out every year and nurses did our mamograms for us on our lunch hour. When I retired this stopped and I got very busy painting.
The fall of 2004 my uncle got lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker and my mother and sister took turns taking care of him that winter.I think that is the first time I missed getting my mamo.He died that spring. The fall of 2005 my mother had to have open heart surgery so my sisters and I took turns taking care of her tell she was able to take care of herself. My father had passed away in 1998.This is the second time I forgot to get a mamogram. I found what I thought was a cyst in my left breast at this time. I didn't worry about it because I was sure it was a cyst. It wobbled, it hurt, and there was no history of breast cancer on either side of my family.My mother got well but that spring 2006 she was able to move into a better house. My sisters and our husbands spent everyday from The end of March to the end of May remodeling it to make it her little dream home.
During this time I was very tired but I chalked that up to working so hard on the house. I also didn't feel right. I couldn't put my finger on it but I had a feeling of not being well.The work finally done I had an Alaskan cruise with my husband planned for the end of June. I thought I would go to the doctor when I got back. I thought if this was another fibrous tumor I didn't want to have it removed before I left. I put it off till the middle of August.They did a mamogram then the radiologist wanted another look with an ultrasound.I laid there not worrying about anything and then he said I think this is cancer. I couln't believe my ears. I said how can you tell that.What are the chances it is versus it isn't. He said he was 95 pct sure it was. He did a needle biopsy. I just felt numb with disbelief. A single tear rolled down my cheek but I didn't cry.I had an odd sense that everything would be all right even if he was correct.
I called my mother and told her and she cried. Everyone I called cried. I'm the one who ended up consoling them.I decided right then that crying or feeling sorry for myself was not an option. I would only do and say things that were going to help me. After all what was the ulternative. I was going to need all my energy to fight this. Crying gave me a headache and sinus infection. I didn't need that on top of cancer. If something in no way helped especially if it in some way hurt it just put it away from me.
Orignally the tumour was thought to be the size of a very small pea and I would be in the early part of stage one. An MRI was done and the tumor was actually the size of a golf ball but it was thought that I was probably still technically in stage one. I had a great surgeon. He said we were going to do a new treatment that they have been having really good success in Italy.
First we would do chemo them surgery not the other way around as usual.He said that by doing chemo first they could tell if the chemo was actually working. If the chemo worked it would destroy the tumor or shrink it and then a lumpectomy could be done instead of a mastectomy. With a five year course of an estrogen blocker the chances of recurrance was only about 1 percent more with a lumpectomy over mastectomy.
His positive attitude was infectious ok I was feeling good. I went out and bought a wig that looked exactly like my hair. I knew it would be easier now than waiting till my hair was allready gone.My mother and I made plans on how she would stay with me and take care of me and go to all my appointments. My husband traveled for work at least once a week but was usually only gone one day.
Then two weeks after my diagnoses, the Saturday before Labor day my mother died of a brain hemorage. I was out to dinner with my husband when we got the call. We rushed to the hospital and were told that she was brain dead and no hope of recovery. Because it was the holiday weekend they were short staffed and had her put on a life flight helicopter to a bigger hospital. When we got there we were all told again that there was no possibility she would ever wake up. She was only living at the moment because of the life support machine. She had made a living will a couple of years before and put me down as executor. She told me under no circumstances was I to allow her to be kept on life support if it came to that. She said she gave the job to me because she thought I would be the strongest and she trusted me to do it. Was she crazy? What made her think I'm strong. I think I'm scared of everthing. A coulple of people in the family thought maybe we should give it a week or a month maybe the doctors are wrong. What if they are wrong. I signed the papers but I didn't allow them to turn off the machine till everyone had a chance to have a private goodby.She died about 20 minutes after they turned the machine off.
The following Saturday was the funeral. I was nervous because my sons fiance went into labor that morning. He was really a nervous wreck. He had to leave before the service started to go to the hospital. My friends organized a beautiful luncheon for after the funeral but my husband and I had to eat and run because we didn't want to miss our first grandbaby being born. That night Annie Leigh was born. Between grief and joy I don't think my body knew what to do. My mother wanted so bad to see that baby. She made quilts and blankets all summer. I think thats when I just went into auto pilot.
Two days later my port was put in my chest. It was outpatient surgery but the anesthisia made me very nauseous.I was sick all night. I thought how am I ever going to get through chemo. I'd rather have extreme pain than nausea. Its the one thing that really puts me away. I prayed for the strength to do what I had to do to get through this.One week later they started putting the red devil my veins.
My husband was wonderful. He insisted on going to all my treatments with me since my mother couldn't be with me.I could see it really bothered him to see the red poison going into me. A friend who went through this said it upset her really bad. She thought about how it was killing her blood cells and how poisonous it was. I decided to look at it as in this case poison was good. It was my friend it was killing the cancer. My blood cells could be delt with using Neulasta.It could all be delt with.I concentrated on doing everything they told me to do to keep the side effects down.
Ten days later I woke up in the morning and there was a clump of hair on my pillow. I touched my hair and it was coming out by the handful. My son said he wanted to shave my head when the time came so I called him to come over and do it. He suddenly chickened out. I thought I don't want to be picking up hair all over the house so I took the dog clippers and went out on the deck and buzzed it all off. I looked at the strange new me in the mirror and I surprisingly didn't think I looked that bad. I put my wig on and that was that. People who saw me that winter would say isn't it nice you didn't loose your hair.
My friends gave me soft, warm, comfy lounging pajamas and that is what I lived in. After the first treatement I could not feel the tumor any longer. The doctor couldn't believe it. A chip had to be put in so that when the surgery was done the doctor would know what area to take out.I got the sores in my mouth but managed them pretty well by doing what I was told. They never got unbearable. I didn't get the dereaded nausea either, however I got a really bad case of acid reflux which they said was a form of nausea. It really hurt and was very unpleasant but hey didn't I say I'd rather do anything even pain over nausea?
The Monday before Thanksgiving I was opening a jar and a horrible pain went up my arm. I looked down and it was purple. I went to the emergency room and they found I had a blood clot that went to my lung. I spent that week in the hospital. My luck was that I was put in a room that was right outside the life flight helicopter pad. I thought about my Mom and tried to stop the tears. I refused to die like this all alone listening to that thing land every half hour. I couldn't believe how often it was used.I didn't sleep all night so I slept all the next day.
Thanksgiving was postponed till I got home. The first one with Annie. Besides cancer another thing I'm terrified of is needles. Wouldn't you know that know because of the blood clot I have to give myself a shot in the stomach every day for two weeks. I can't stand anyone else to give me a shot I can't do this. For two days I drive 25 min each way to have a nurse give me the shot. This was a big inconvenience so I had them show me how.The funniest thing anyone has seen is the first time I had to stab myself in the stomach. I screamed, then looked up and said, oh that wasn't so bad.It was actually easier for me to do it than someone else. Needles no longer bother me.
Another lucky thing to come out of this. During this time on one of my good days I painted a pine china hutch in my kitchen white. No one could believe I had the strength to do that, but it made me happy. I felt like I bought a new piece of furniture. Just before Christmas I had my surgery. The tumor was only the size of a beebee.He got clean margines and my lymph nodes were clean. Hallelujah. The board decided that since the tumor wasn't completey gone, to be safe I need a round of a different chemo in case. My hair was about an inch long and it fell out again. This chemo wasn't quite as bad as the first but different. My finger nails and toe nails turned black, like I was recovering from them being hit with a hammer. They didn't actually fall off so no problem, nail polish and noone could tell.
I was very tired with all of this but all winter I listened everyday to beautiful music, and watched feel good movies. I couldn't do art or read because of the fuzzy brain chemo give you. Also my eyesight was effected and my glasses were no use. I was told not to get new ones for about six months after I was all through because they would get better and I didn't want to get new glasses twice.
May and I start six weeks of radiation. After all the chemo it seemed like a piece of cake. The tiredness was overwhelming and I did get blisters but I was finally done.My hair grew back. I don't think I'll ever grow it long again. I learned life if too short to be spending so much time doing my hair. There are much more important and fun things to do.
July 3 2008 was my one year mark.I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. I appreciate now all the things even the very small ones in my life so much more than I ever did. I realize what is important. My family and spending good quality time with them. The things that used to make me angry no longer do. They seem so unimportant.I look at everything differently.
One thing that happened when my radiation started that was worse to me than the whole cancer thing is, that my son and his fiancee split up. He was davastated. That was harder for me to watch than anything. But my new found positive way of looking at things has paid off there too. We have a good relationship with Annies mom. Custody was worked out to everyones satisfaction.
I'm painting again and have my old enthusiasm back. I've learned no matter how black something looks things will allways get better if you have the right attitude. I hated having cancer, it was really hard but I think it was worth the positive things I gained from it. Someone told me the other day that they thought I was the strongest person they know. They thought I could handle anything. I still don't feel like I'm strong but maybe that is what being strong is. Its not that you don't feel the pain as much as anyone else does you do. But you do what you need to do to get through it you don't buckle and cave.
Don't forget to get your mamograms. If I had gotten my mamograms when I should of it would have saved me lots and lots of agony. Getting detected early I would only have needed a lumpectomy and radiation.That would have been a piece of cake compared to all that chemo.I urge everyone who reads my story to really take this information to heart. Early detection can save your life and save you from being way sicker than you need to be. Also if you have a doctor that does not take any lump you have seriously, get another doctor. If they think it is a cyst it is an easy thing for them to aspirate it to make sure. I have a couple of friends who's doctors thought they had a cyst, tried to aspirate it and found it was not a cyst. When they did a needle biopsy which is also a relatively easy thing to do they found it was cancer. If they would have just assumed it was a cyst another year would have gone by. Another year of growth which could have meant the difference between life and death, or the difference between lumpectomy and mastectomy and radical treatment.You are just as important as everyone else. Take care of yourself so you can be around to take care of the ones you love.
Megan's Story
I was diagnosed on Tuesday February 14, 2006. I was 29 years old and a mother of two great kids. My children were 3 and half and almost one. I am a hairdresser and a nail technician. On the day that I was told I had breast cancer I had to go into work right after and do some clients. That was very hard but I have the best clients around. I got done with my clients and my husband and I went home and made a lot of phone calls and I had an appointment on Thursday with a Dr. at Huntsman Cancer Instatute. My husband and I went to the appointment and the following Friday I was having a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy.
I have no family history of breast cancer but because of my age I decided on having a bilateral mastectomy. I was told I had a 40 percent chance of having cancer on the other side in the next 20 years and I didn't want to have to go through it twice. I have not had a reaccurance. I had the mastectomy the following Friday and was told that I had postive lymph nodes so they wanted me to do Chemotherapy and Radiation. I started Chemo 4 weeks later, and 4 days after my daughter turned one. The hardest part so far was that I couldn't lift my daughter. There were times when I couldn't get her into her crib and she would take a nap on the floor. I did 8 treatments every two weeks. I ended up with a port in my chest because they had a hard time getting my veins. I was also going to get Herceptin for a year after chemo and that was going to be administered the same way. They say that I did great with the chemo and I would take my nausa medicine and it seemed to help. My last four treatments would knock me out for a day or two because my bones would hurt so bad that I could barely lay in bed.
I started radiation 3 weeks after I was done with chemo and did that five days a week for 5 and half weeks. I got very burned in my armpit area. One day I went in and the techs even felt bad because of how it looked. I completed that and was on to the next thing. Surgery to get the expanders out and put in my implants. I had surgery the end of April 2007 and had to go another 6 weeks of no heavy lifting. At least this time my daughter was walking. I got the port out the end of July and have just had follow up appointments since. This process has made my husband and I much closer and we learned to communicate at lot more. I also learned that it is very hard for the caregiver. My husband wanted to fix me and he couldn't. My kids were very supportive and my son was always my cheerleader telling me I will be ok.
When I was diagnosed I never thought that I would die from this but I do think that we will be affected by it again somewhere. I want my kids to be able to look back and say "My mom did it and it will be ok." I have worked off and on throughout this process and my clients have told me about how I have affected them. I have some that can't believe what I went through and that I am happy and healthy now and it makes them think their problems aren't so bad. I have friends that said they would have given up and they were amazed and how up beat and positive I was. I do think that having my family around me helped me want to beat it. I have to be there for my kids, and husband.
I am taking Tamoxifen for the next five years. It does have some side effects but it isn't as bad as cancer coming back. I'm sure that there is so much more that I could tell you about the process and what I went through. I can tell you that I am very lucky to live here in Salt Lake and to have the great doctors I have had. They have all been wonderfull and I think of them as a friend. Cancer has changed my life in many ways but I also have grown and learned how strong of a person I can be. I have experienced a lot of things in my life that has made me grow and I can chalk this up as another one.
I have no family history of breast cancer but because of my age I decided on having a bilateral mastectomy. I was told I had a 40 percent chance of having cancer on the other side in the next 20 years and I didn't want to have to go through it twice. I have not had a reaccurance. I had the mastectomy the following Friday and was told that I had postive lymph nodes so they wanted me to do Chemotherapy and Radiation. I started Chemo 4 weeks later, and 4 days after my daughter turned one. The hardest part so far was that I couldn't lift my daughter. There were times when I couldn't get her into her crib and she would take a nap on the floor. I did 8 treatments every two weeks. I ended up with a port in my chest because they had a hard time getting my veins. I was also going to get Herceptin for a year after chemo and that was going to be administered the same way. They say that I did great with the chemo and I would take my nausa medicine and it seemed to help. My last four treatments would knock me out for a day or two because my bones would hurt so bad that I could barely lay in bed.
I started radiation 3 weeks after I was done with chemo and did that five days a week for 5 and half weeks. I got very burned in my armpit area. One day I went in and the techs even felt bad because of how it looked. I completed that and was on to the next thing. Surgery to get the expanders out and put in my implants. I had surgery the end of April 2007 and had to go another 6 weeks of no heavy lifting. At least this time my daughter was walking. I got the port out the end of July and have just had follow up appointments since. This process has made my husband and I much closer and we learned to communicate at lot more. I also learned that it is very hard for the caregiver. My husband wanted to fix me and he couldn't. My kids were very supportive and my son was always my cheerleader telling me I will be ok.
When I was diagnosed I never thought that I would die from this but I do think that we will be affected by it again somewhere. I want my kids to be able to look back and say "My mom did it and it will be ok." I have worked off and on throughout this process and my clients have told me about how I have affected them. I have some that can't believe what I went through and that I am happy and healthy now and it makes them think their problems aren't so bad. I have friends that said they would have given up and they were amazed and how up beat and positive I was. I do think that having my family around me helped me want to beat it. I have to be there for my kids, and husband.
I am taking Tamoxifen for the next five years. It does have some side effects but it isn't as bad as cancer coming back. I'm sure that there is so much more that I could tell you about the process and what I went through. I can tell you that I am very lucky to live here in Salt Lake and to have the great doctors I have had. They have all been wonderfull and I think of them as a friend. Cancer has changed my life in many ways but I also have grown and learned how strong of a person I can be. I have experienced a lot of things in my life that has made me grow and I can chalk this up as another one.
Laurie's Story
My story starts out with the fear and drama that most of us start this journey with. I was pregnant with my second child when I first felt what is now called "the lump." I didn't get it checked out right away because I was pregnant and nearing the end of my pregnancy. I wasn't sure if it was a scary lump or just part of being pregnant and all the changes that come with it.I delivered a beautiful baby boy and decided to wait and see what happened. When he was about 2 months old I was pumping some milk after I had nursed and noticed that there was blood in my milk. I was frozen with terror. I knew this was no ordinary lump. It needed to be checked out. After meeting with my obstetrician and being referred to a surgeon the decision to remove the lump was made. I decided not to biopsy it and just wait until they had all the tissue from the lumpectomy to get the full story. On Monday November 21, 2005 the news came. It was cancer, I was 27 and completely shocked. Like everyone else who has been there the thought was what have I done wrong? Why is this happening to me? After driving home numb with the diagnosis, I allowed myself to be numb but only until the next morning. Then I was ready to fight! The mastectomy was two and a half weeks later. Chemo started a month after that. Time dragged and life was a blur of treatments, blood draws and many days counting down the moments until you knew you could make it through another treatment. Eight rounds of chemo were followed by twenty five days worth of radiation treatments. No matter what the trial there will always be setbacks. No matter what the trial there will always be blessings and miracles. I had my share of setbacks, blessings and miracles. The best being able to celebrate the birth of my third chil just eighteen months after finishing treatment. She wasn't in "the plan, " but she was worth the pain to experience the miracle. So far there has been no reoccurence. I cross my fingers and pray each day that it will stay that way. I know that if the cancer comes back I will give it all I've got to beat it again so I can raise my three children. My dreams were different before I joined the pink sorority. Now they are simple with much more substance. Cancer is a journey not a punishment. You think of who you were, who you are and FIGHT each day to become the person you've always dreamed about being.
Carletta's Story
In 1980, at age 24, after I had just had my third child, one day I noticed some leaking coming from my right breast. I subsequently went to the doctor, had a mammogram, and was told there was an over-secretion in one of the ducts in my breast. This continued on and off for about 10 years and at age 34, I went for another mammogram and was told I still had the over-secretion of that duct in my right breast. After turning 40, one morning I awoke to find blood secreting from my right breast. I went immediately to the doctor and after extensive workup, was told a polyp was found in my right breast; this was removed with no abnormal findings, but I began going every six months for a mammogram and ultrasound. Three years later, I was released only to return once a year for a checkup.
In August of 2000, one day I noticed a knot in my right upper breast. I immediately returned to my doctor, and this time I was told I did have breast cancer. The doctor said I had some important decisions to make. After much thought and prayer, and having a family history of breast cancer, I chose to have both breasts removed. Upon removal of the right breast, the cancer was found to have infiltrated out of the duct into the breast; removal of the left breast revealed abnormal cells had developed as well. I thank God for the wisdom of choosing to have both breasts removed.
This is where my true journey of faith began. I am a wife, mother of three, grandmother of eleven, and a Beautician, owning my own business. My battle with breast cancer was one that was not won alone but with my Savior, Jesus, who revealed to me that his timing is perfect, and when there are times I cannot trust his hand, I can always trust his heart. He would bring scripture to my mind to strengthen me such as his yoke is easy, and his burden is light. My husband always let me know he loved and even without breasts, made me feel beautiful. My Sister, Claudia, encouraged me to go ahead with chemotherapy instructing me that I was obligated to live until I die. My Sister, Claudette, said to me “The pain will last for a moment, but the glory will last through eternity.” A friend who had battled cancer simply stated “It is doable.” My children were there to change the dressings, empty draining tubes, and help out where needed. I know my mother spent countless hours in prayer for me. I thank God even through being exhausted, sometimes not being able to think clearly because of the chemotherapy, God gave me the strength to still work on the days I did not have treatments, I thank him that I never lost my hair, and I can say with complete honesty, I was not afraid. Just as Job said, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.”
At age 52, it has been eight years now since my diagnosis, and I have had no recurrence of cancer. As I sit here remembering that time, I am truly thankful for what God has done for me. I have shared my story with so many for it has become such a great part of my life and testimony. I have had the opportunity to encourage many through my story and would not change going through cancer for the world. I have truly learned through cancer that I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. As my good friend said to me, “It is doable,” and when you come through it, you have a great opportunity to encourage others, tell of your faith, and make a difference for someone else. I appreciate so much for the opportunity to share my story, and if anyone reading this now is battling breast cancer, just remember that you may have cancer, but you do not have to let cancer have you.
In August of 2000, one day I noticed a knot in my right upper breast. I immediately returned to my doctor, and this time I was told I did have breast cancer. The doctor said I had some important decisions to make. After much thought and prayer, and having a family history of breast cancer, I chose to have both breasts removed. Upon removal of the right breast, the cancer was found to have infiltrated out of the duct into the breast; removal of the left breast revealed abnormal cells had developed as well. I thank God for the wisdom of choosing to have both breasts removed.
This is where my true journey of faith began. I am a wife, mother of three, grandmother of eleven, and a Beautician, owning my own business. My battle with breast cancer was one that was not won alone but with my Savior, Jesus, who revealed to me that his timing is perfect, and when there are times I cannot trust his hand, I can always trust his heart. He would bring scripture to my mind to strengthen me such as his yoke is easy, and his burden is light. My husband always let me know he loved and even without breasts, made me feel beautiful. My Sister, Claudia, encouraged me to go ahead with chemotherapy instructing me that I was obligated to live until I die. My Sister, Claudette, said to me “The pain will last for a moment, but the glory will last through eternity.” A friend who had battled cancer simply stated “It is doable.” My children were there to change the dressings, empty draining tubes, and help out where needed. I know my mother spent countless hours in prayer for me. I thank God even through being exhausted, sometimes not being able to think clearly because of the chemotherapy, God gave me the strength to still work on the days I did not have treatments, I thank him that I never lost my hair, and I can say with complete honesty, I was not afraid. Just as Job said, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.”
At age 52, it has been eight years now since my diagnosis, and I have had no recurrence of cancer. As I sit here remembering that time, I am truly thankful for what God has done for me. I have shared my story with so many for it has become such a great part of my life and testimony. I have had the opportunity to encourage many through my story and would not change going through cancer for the world. I have truly learned through cancer that I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. As my good friend said to me, “It is doable,” and when you come through it, you have a great opportunity to encourage others, tell of your faith, and make a difference for someone else. I appreciate so much for the opportunity to share my story, and if anyone reading this now is battling breast cancer, just remember that you may have cancer, but you do not have to let cancer have you.
Cheryl's Story
One of my goals in life was to get married and have a family. After graduating from college, I met the man of my dreams and we were married less than a year later. We had been married for seven months and were just thinking of kids when the diagnosis came: I had a five cm tumor in my left breast. I was 28 years old.
After a mastectomy, I endured four rounds of chemo and eight weeks of radiation therapy. My sweet husband was there through the entire treatment. He traded sides of the bed so he wouldn't accidentally bump my surgical site. He held my hair back as I vomited into the toilet. He cut my hair short when it started to fall out, then took his razor and shaving cream and shaved it all off. (My long, naturally curley hair was one of the things that first attracted him to me.) He didn't tell me when the chemo made me smell funny. When it was over, I knew if we had survived cancer treatment, we would be together forever.
Life doesn't end with a cancer diagnosis. I have now been cancer free for five and a half years. I just gave birth to our third child, a boy who joined his 2 year old brother and 4 year old sister. I have nursed all three of my children with just one breast.
The most important thing I have learned: life goes on. After a diagnosis of cancer, the most important thing is to focus on treatment and making yourself well. Once you have been treated, move on. Don't let cancer ruin the rest of your life. There will always be reminders, but there shouldn't be limitations. A positive attitiude really is the best medicine.
After a mastectomy, I endured four rounds of chemo and eight weeks of radiation therapy. My sweet husband was there through the entire treatment. He traded sides of the bed so he wouldn't accidentally bump my surgical site. He held my hair back as I vomited into the toilet. He cut my hair short when it started to fall out, then took his razor and shaving cream and shaved it all off. (My long, naturally curley hair was one of the things that first attracted him to me.) He didn't tell me when the chemo made me smell funny. When it was over, I knew if we had survived cancer treatment, we would be together forever.
Life doesn't end with a cancer diagnosis. I have now been cancer free for five and a half years. I just gave birth to our third child, a boy who joined his 2 year old brother and 4 year old sister. I have nursed all three of my children with just one breast.
The most important thing I have learned: life goes on. After a diagnosis of cancer, the most important thing is to focus on treatment and making yourself well. Once you have been treated, move on. Don't let cancer ruin the rest of your life. There will always be reminders, but there shouldn't be limitations. A positive attitiude really is the best medicine.
Kristy's Story
I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer (triple-negative invasive ductal carcinoma, level 2) at the age of 27 and while I was 36 weeks PREGNANT with my second child.
At the time, my husband was unemployed and I was working full-time.
What's funny was that I found the lump 3 months earlier, and figured that because I was pregnant (and I had breast-fed my first child for 15 months) that I was lactating and had a clogged milk duct. I noticed it, but didn't worry about it until I realized it wasn't going away. My husband and I were having marital problems and were on the verge of divorce until I was diagnosed with cancer.
I was fortunate that I was far enough along in my pregnancy at the time of diagnosis that we decided to wait to have the baby before any surgeries or cancer treatments started. I was able to use that time to interview different surgeons and oncologists and get varied opinions on my condition and the best treatment.
In fact, the aspect that was the most unsettling for me was that I was not going to be able to breast feed my baby. I didn't worry about dying, because everyone I knew who had breast cancer (inside my family and out) were still alive.
I consulted lactation specialists and surgeons and finally found a tenured surgeon who agreed to cut into me while lactating, warning me that I might have infections from it, but he would do it.I scheduled a C section on August 4th, 2007 and my lumpectomy on August 10th, 2007.
I worked full time until I had the baby, and it was a blessing because it kept my mind off of all the "ifs" and let me focus on only the "what can I do about everything today?" question.
I had the baby and started nursing him. The first time he nursed, he had a very difficult time latching on. After a couple of days in the hospital, the pediatrician told me that he was slightly "tongue-tied" and couldn't nurse as well as other babies. It was a sign.
After 4 days of difficult nursing, I decided that I was emotionally ready to stop nursing. The hospital offered to give me free formula as long as I needed it. The hospital was such a rich experience because I would walk the halls at night, praying in my mind and thinking about the baby and the cancer and what I wanted out of life.. I also prayed to understand what I was supposed to learn from all of this.
I decided to dry up and then realized that I wanted to dry up before undergoing the lumpectomy, so I put off the lumpectomy until August 21st, 2007.
All went well, they also did an axillary dissection after finding one sentinel node with cancer.It was very difficult to pick up the newborn baby and my 2 year old son after that. I then began a dose-dense chemo regimen September 28th, 2007 for 16 weeks.
The free formula was a blessing - I was able to sleep while others fed the baby. I tried my hardest to feed him as much as I could in order to bond with him, but it was a relief to be able to let others feed him too.
There were times that I would jolt awake at night from the chemo drugs and I would go out in the living room and pray and ponder. I would feel so absolutely close to my Saviour and to my ancestors who probably had cancer too. It made me desire to research my family history and learn more about my predessors.
I went back to work on November 1st, 2007 and worked as many hours as my body would allow.In December 2007, I had to have a blood infusion because my blood counts were so low. It was interesting because I hadn't realized how much my energy dragged because I must have gotten used to it. Once I received the infusion, my energy returned and color in my cheeks returned. It was absolutely amazing.
After chemo ended on January 11, 2008, I began radiation for 5 weeks starting in March 2008.The previous problems with my marriage had been put on hold during the cancer and returned ferociously in March, and we split by April.
Cancer made me realize how much of a work ethic I had. No matter what happened to my body, I was more concerned with providing food and shelter to my children. Because I had a baby on top of cancer, I didn't have the opportunity to sit around a lot, even when I was exhausted. I chose to not use cancer (on top of pregnancy) as an excuse to be lazy. A lot of people served our family with monetary donations and meals and I was in awe as to how much support we received. I resolved that once we were on our feet that I would give more to others than I had before. Their service changed my heart and my attitude. I want to be the first one to respond when others need help, because it meant so much to me. Even the smallest gestures were absolutely appreciated. Even when people just asked me how I was doing or acknowledged that they noticed how hard I was trying.
I am so blessed to have received cancer. It has built my character and made me into so much more of a person than I was ever before. Although cancer changed me, it didn't change my husband for the best and we are undergoing a divorce. I realize that attitude during trials is so important because cancer doesn't define me, it enhanced my life and now I'm a better servant of God for it.
A few months ago, we discovered that Breast Cancer runs in my family, but never this young. It turns out that I have the BRCA1 genetic mutation and so does many of my family members. This knowledge empowers me to watch and prepare and prevent.Cancer is never the ending, it's the beginning of defining who you are as a person when times are tough.
At the time, my husband was unemployed and I was working full-time.
What's funny was that I found the lump 3 months earlier, and figured that because I was pregnant (and I had breast-fed my first child for 15 months) that I was lactating and had a clogged milk duct. I noticed it, but didn't worry about it until I realized it wasn't going away. My husband and I were having marital problems and were on the verge of divorce until I was diagnosed with cancer.
I was fortunate that I was far enough along in my pregnancy at the time of diagnosis that we decided to wait to have the baby before any surgeries or cancer treatments started. I was able to use that time to interview different surgeons and oncologists and get varied opinions on my condition and the best treatment.
In fact, the aspect that was the most unsettling for me was that I was not going to be able to breast feed my baby. I didn't worry about dying, because everyone I knew who had breast cancer (inside my family and out) were still alive.
I consulted lactation specialists and surgeons and finally found a tenured surgeon who agreed to cut into me while lactating, warning me that I might have infections from it, but he would do it.I scheduled a C section on August 4th, 2007 and my lumpectomy on August 10th, 2007.
I worked full time until I had the baby, and it was a blessing because it kept my mind off of all the "ifs" and let me focus on only the "what can I do about everything today?" question.
I had the baby and started nursing him. The first time he nursed, he had a very difficult time latching on. After a couple of days in the hospital, the pediatrician told me that he was slightly "tongue-tied" and couldn't nurse as well as other babies. It was a sign.
After 4 days of difficult nursing, I decided that I was emotionally ready to stop nursing. The hospital offered to give me free formula as long as I needed it. The hospital was such a rich experience because I would walk the halls at night, praying in my mind and thinking about the baby and the cancer and what I wanted out of life.. I also prayed to understand what I was supposed to learn from all of this.
I decided to dry up and then realized that I wanted to dry up before undergoing the lumpectomy, so I put off the lumpectomy until August 21st, 2007.
All went well, they also did an axillary dissection after finding one sentinel node with cancer.It was very difficult to pick up the newborn baby and my 2 year old son after that. I then began a dose-dense chemo regimen September 28th, 2007 for 16 weeks.
The free formula was a blessing - I was able to sleep while others fed the baby. I tried my hardest to feed him as much as I could in order to bond with him, but it was a relief to be able to let others feed him too.
There were times that I would jolt awake at night from the chemo drugs and I would go out in the living room and pray and ponder. I would feel so absolutely close to my Saviour and to my ancestors who probably had cancer too. It made me desire to research my family history and learn more about my predessors.
I went back to work on November 1st, 2007 and worked as many hours as my body would allow.In December 2007, I had to have a blood infusion because my blood counts were so low. It was interesting because I hadn't realized how much my energy dragged because I must have gotten used to it. Once I received the infusion, my energy returned and color in my cheeks returned. It was absolutely amazing.
After chemo ended on January 11, 2008, I began radiation for 5 weeks starting in March 2008.The previous problems with my marriage had been put on hold during the cancer and returned ferociously in March, and we split by April.
Cancer made me realize how much of a work ethic I had. No matter what happened to my body, I was more concerned with providing food and shelter to my children. Because I had a baby on top of cancer, I didn't have the opportunity to sit around a lot, even when I was exhausted. I chose to not use cancer (on top of pregnancy) as an excuse to be lazy. A lot of people served our family with monetary donations and meals and I was in awe as to how much support we received. I resolved that once we were on our feet that I would give more to others than I had before. Their service changed my heart and my attitude. I want to be the first one to respond when others need help, because it meant so much to me. Even the smallest gestures were absolutely appreciated. Even when people just asked me how I was doing or acknowledged that they noticed how hard I was trying.
I am so blessed to have received cancer. It has built my character and made me into so much more of a person than I was ever before. Although cancer changed me, it didn't change my husband for the best and we are undergoing a divorce. I realize that attitude during trials is so important because cancer doesn't define me, it enhanced my life and now I'm a better servant of God for it.
A few months ago, we discovered that Breast Cancer runs in my family, but never this young. It turns out that I have the BRCA1 genetic mutation and so does many of my family members. This knowledge empowers me to watch and prepare and prevent.Cancer is never the ending, it's the beginning of defining who you are as a person when times are tough.
Ginny's Story
I was sadly diagnosed with breast cancer just after I turned 24. My only child, Max had just turned 1 and the prognosis was not good. I found my lump 10 months before it was ever removed, and by then the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes. My doctors were not concerned with the lump because at the time I was breast feeding and it was thought that I had a clogged milk duct. When the lump did not go away, and I started to find more I was sent to a surgeon to have them removed. Even the surgeon did not think it could be cancer. I was just too young for breast cancer and I had no family history. Well, here I am now 30 years old, 6 years cancer free, and 2 additional babies- both girls. I am blessed. Even though fighting cancer was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, I don't regret it. My life has been changed for the better. I see the world in a new light and I look for joy daily remembering how quickly it can be taken from me. I know I am stronger, happier, and healthier than I have ever been and for that I am thankful. Breast cancer is no longer a 40 and up disease and there needs to be more awareness. Women and men need to know they are at risk and how important it is to do self exams every month, and if they do find something irregular, to be pro active and get it looked at quickly. I did not know that men were at risk until I was diagnosed. I had never even heard that it was a possibility. We need more awareness! To those who are fighting the disease now, take life one day at a time to fight, and in that day look for the joy, see the beauty around you, be grateful for the things you do have, laugh as much as you can, and surround yourself with the people you love and who love you. Before you know it your treatments will be over, the incisions will be healed, and you too will be thankful for the experience to really know what it means to live life to the fullest.
Gail's Story
Let’s start with the good news. I am cancer free as of today!
It is a relief that is for sure, but (and there is always a but with cancer) I have forgotten how to celebrate thoroughly, as in down to my core. You see I have a terrorist that lies in wait, that is ready to pounce when I least expect it. I am an eight year survivor in this war on terror and I have the scars to prove it (two reocurrences). Living with cancer is a marvelous thing – the moments of simple clarity, the aweness of awareness, the breathe of life, the hope of tomorrow, the dreams of a future. But wait, there It is again, a feeling in my gut, a sickening tug that reminds me I have stage IV metastatic breast cancer, there is no cure. I want it to go away so desperately, and I do my best to do just that by eating organic, doing yoga and tai chi, meditating, long walks at the beach and keeping stress at bay. These are things I can control, and I feel good about doing them, but I do live cautiously not carelessly. I cannot be reckless I need the health insurance.
Let’s go back to the good news. I am cancer free as of today! I live today because of smart doctors, medicine that my cancer responds to, and a good attitude - what this means I cannot tell you exactly, except that I am by nature an eternal optimist. I am also very lucky, I have a wonderful supportive husband and two beautiful daughters who have grown to be wonderful adults. I am also blessed with a strong will and perseverance. I will not take no as an answer or leave a stone unturned when I am faced with an obstacle that my life may depend on. I have earned my badge of courage but I do not wear it outwardly, as the terrorist might snatch it away.
Let’s end with the good news. I am cancer free as of today!
It is a relief that is for sure, but (and there is always a but with cancer) I have forgotten how to celebrate thoroughly, as in down to my core. You see I have a terrorist that lies in wait, that is ready to pounce when I least expect it. I am an eight year survivor in this war on terror and I have the scars to prove it (two reocurrences). Living with cancer is a marvelous thing – the moments of simple clarity, the aweness of awareness, the breathe of life, the hope of tomorrow, the dreams of a future. But wait, there It is again, a feeling in my gut, a sickening tug that reminds me I have stage IV metastatic breast cancer, there is no cure. I want it to go away so desperately, and I do my best to do just that by eating organic, doing yoga and tai chi, meditating, long walks at the beach and keeping stress at bay. These are things I can control, and I feel good about doing them, but I do live cautiously not carelessly. I cannot be reckless I need the health insurance.
Let’s go back to the good news. I am cancer free as of today! I live today because of smart doctors, medicine that my cancer responds to, and a good attitude - what this means I cannot tell you exactly, except that I am by nature an eternal optimist. I am also very lucky, I have a wonderful supportive husband and two beautiful daughters who have grown to be wonderful adults. I am also blessed with a strong will and perseverance. I will not take no as an answer or leave a stone unturned when I am faced with an obstacle that my life may depend on. I have earned my badge of courage but I do not wear it outwardly, as the terrorist might snatch it away.
Let’s end with the good news. I am cancer free as of today!
Dee's Story
My name is Dee and this is My Journey of Faith, Courage and Love Shrouded by Fear.
As I reflect over this past year, I wonder how I ever managed to get through all of the trials and procedures facing me. My journey was filled with faith, courage and the loving support of my husband, friends, doctors, nurses and technicians. However, along this journey there was also fear. It all started in August of 2007 when a co-worker began telling me of a type of breast cancer I had never heard of before."
It is very hard to detect and the signs are not the same as normal breast cancer." Those words began the fear that followed me for quite some time. Inflammatory Breast Cancer - what is that? My two sisters had breast cancer years ago and both are survivors. But there are not normal lumps to feel with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. I wanted to rush home from work to check my breasts. The last mammogram I had was 2 1/2 years prior. Caring for my husband who became terminal with a serious liver disease 7 years before and working full time had become priorities in my life. My husband and I were married for 42 years. He had no idea of the year that was to come.
That evening I looked carefully. I was never very good with self-exams, although I did them from time to time. Tonight, this was different. There was a dent underneath the right breast. I can't remember seeing this before. I didn't notice the swollen redness that was there. Along with the dent, my nipple was wrinkled. Is that normal I thought. Without hesitation, an appointment was made for a mammogram.
Previously, about 4 or 5 years ago, I had 2 needle biopsies, one in each breast. It was benign. So when the technician took some time to come back into the exam room, I knew there was a problem. Trying not to worry a second mammogram was taken of the right breast. And again I waited, feeling the fear grow.
By the time I got to work, I had numerous telephone calls waiting for me from my physician to set up a needle biopsy appointment. And it was confirmed. I had Inflammatory Breast Cancer. An appointment with my oncologist was immediately set; my doctor explaing the detailed treatment that was to be done; i.e. the types of chemotherapy; the length of the treatments; and what to expect - fatigue, hair loss, depression, etc. The "BIG" guns of chemo was about to begin. I felt unusally at ease, feeling at "home" at the cancer cancer, feeling the loving concern for the entire person. This was half the battle.
My husband, daughter, and a very close girlfriend were all extremely helpful and encouraging as they took care of me. My daughter shaved my head as I did not want to face clumps of hair falling out. To show their support, my husband and son proceeded to shave their heads. Words cannot express the excellent treatment I received from my doctor and nurses as they carefully watched my blood count and provided the necessary medications. After I was given the first shot to build up my white blood count, I found myself in the emergency room from the excruciating pain in my chest. I thought I was having a heart attack. I soon learned what I needed to do to relieve the pain and continue with my treatments. Although I was extremely fatigued, the encouragement I received from the team at the oncologist center, my friends, cards full of kind words from those I served at my place of employment continued to strenghten me. But most of all, my husband who never missed a treatment, test, or doctor's visit.
About 2 months after my chemo treatments, I scheduled my surgery with mixed emotions. I thought - maybe I don't need the surgery. The signs of the cancer were gone due to the chemo treatments. As I waited during the 2 months for my blood to build up for the surgery, the skin on my breast began to look like the skin of an orange again. As the fear shrouded my life, one could see the horrendous strength of Inflammatory Breast Cancer as it began to strike back.
The mastectomy left me with two large drainage tubes where my breast used to be. Can this really be happening to me. My daughter, Lydia, and close friend, Carol helped me to relax and let the process of healing continue. The time soon came in March for the radiation treatments to start. Again, I found myself surrounded by doctors, technicians and personnel who cared for the entire person. As I went every day, I wondered why they continued to encourage me. They marveled at how well I was doing which made my smile grow wider. The last 5 treatments, which were the strongest and aimed at the incision site, made my skin begin to break down and develop large open burns. An assortment of creams were used 2 -3 times a day. My healing was slow but it DID heal.
I would like to say that the cancer center and radiation center gives extreme support to cancer patients and survivors. They have sponsored luncheons and programs like "Look Good, Feel Better" which builds confidence, esteem, and courage to all. My best advice is to seek out these programs and share your experience which will not only build you up but also encourage others.
I am currently having hormone therapy as preventive medicine to deter any new signs of cancer. The fear lingers in the back of my mind, but I am determined not to let it stop me from leading my life as I did before. My husband and I am active in our faith which has sustained me through this ordeal. I have always felt that when you are faced with a trial and/or tragedy, it is important in the healing process to find and use the positive side to help others. I encourage ALL women to regularly do self-exams, get the mammograms, and follow thru with whatever treatment you and your doctor decide on. Whatever I can do to help the cause of fighting this disease, I will do. I will continue to talk to anyone who will listen about the symptoms of Inflammatory Breast Cancer.
At the end of January, I resumed my secular work with anticipation hoping my strength would hold up. I am so fortunate to have an employer who allowed whatever was needed; rest periods, doctor visits, and emotional and spiritual encouragement.
My greatest challenge is yet ahead. That is to continue to be strong and support my husband in his fight against his newly diagnosed lung cancer.
As I reflect over this past year, I wonder how I ever managed to get through all of the trials and procedures facing me. My journey was filled with faith, courage and the loving support of my husband, friends, doctors, nurses and technicians. However, along this journey there was also fear. It all started in August of 2007 when a co-worker began telling me of a type of breast cancer I had never heard of before."
It is very hard to detect and the signs are not the same as normal breast cancer." Those words began the fear that followed me for quite some time. Inflammatory Breast Cancer - what is that? My two sisters had breast cancer years ago and both are survivors. But there are not normal lumps to feel with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. I wanted to rush home from work to check my breasts. The last mammogram I had was 2 1/2 years prior. Caring for my husband who became terminal with a serious liver disease 7 years before and working full time had become priorities in my life. My husband and I were married for 42 years. He had no idea of the year that was to come.
That evening I looked carefully. I was never very good with self-exams, although I did them from time to time. Tonight, this was different. There was a dent underneath the right breast. I can't remember seeing this before. I didn't notice the swollen redness that was there. Along with the dent, my nipple was wrinkled. Is that normal I thought. Without hesitation, an appointment was made for a mammogram.
Previously, about 4 or 5 years ago, I had 2 needle biopsies, one in each breast. It was benign. So when the technician took some time to come back into the exam room, I knew there was a problem. Trying not to worry a second mammogram was taken of the right breast. And again I waited, feeling the fear grow.
By the time I got to work, I had numerous telephone calls waiting for me from my physician to set up a needle biopsy appointment. And it was confirmed. I had Inflammatory Breast Cancer. An appointment with my oncologist was immediately set; my doctor explaing the detailed treatment that was to be done; i.e. the types of chemotherapy; the length of the treatments; and what to expect - fatigue, hair loss, depression, etc. The "BIG" guns of chemo was about to begin. I felt unusally at ease, feeling at "home" at the cancer cancer, feeling the loving concern for the entire person. This was half the battle.
My husband, daughter, and a very close girlfriend were all extremely helpful and encouraging as they took care of me. My daughter shaved my head as I did not want to face clumps of hair falling out. To show their support, my husband and son proceeded to shave their heads. Words cannot express the excellent treatment I received from my doctor and nurses as they carefully watched my blood count and provided the necessary medications. After I was given the first shot to build up my white blood count, I found myself in the emergency room from the excruciating pain in my chest. I thought I was having a heart attack. I soon learned what I needed to do to relieve the pain and continue with my treatments. Although I was extremely fatigued, the encouragement I received from the team at the oncologist center, my friends, cards full of kind words from those I served at my place of employment continued to strenghten me. But most of all, my husband who never missed a treatment, test, or doctor's visit.
About 2 months after my chemo treatments, I scheduled my surgery with mixed emotions. I thought - maybe I don't need the surgery. The signs of the cancer were gone due to the chemo treatments. As I waited during the 2 months for my blood to build up for the surgery, the skin on my breast began to look like the skin of an orange again. As the fear shrouded my life, one could see the horrendous strength of Inflammatory Breast Cancer as it began to strike back.
The mastectomy left me with two large drainage tubes where my breast used to be. Can this really be happening to me. My daughter, Lydia, and close friend, Carol helped me to relax and let the process of healing continue. The time soon came in March for the radiation treatments to start. Again, I found myself surrounded by doctors, technicians and personnel who cared for the entire person. As I went every day, I wondered why they continued to encourage me. They marveled at how well I was doing which made my smile grow wider. The last 5 treatments, which were the strongest and aimed at the incision site, made my skin begin to break down and develop large open burns. An assortment of creams were used 2 -3 times a day. My healing was slow but it DID heal.
I would like to say that the cancer center and radiation center gives extreme support to cancer patients and survivors. They have sponsored luncheons and programs like "Look Good, Feel Better" which builds confidence, esteem, and courage to all. My best advice is to seek out these programs and share your experience which will not only build you up but also encourage others.
I am currently having hormone therapy as preventive medicine to deter any new signs of cancer. The fear lingers in the back of my mind, but I am determined not to let it stop me from leading my life as I did before. My husband and I am active in our faith which has sustained me through this ordeal. I have always felt that when you are faced with a trial and/or tragedy, it is important in the healing process to find and use the positive side to help others. I encourage ALL women to regularly do self-exams, get the mammograms, and follow thru with whatever treatment you and your doctor decide on. Whatever I can do to help the cause of fighting this disease, I will do. I will continue to talk to anyone who will listen about the symptoms of Inflammatory Breast Cancer.
At the end of January, I resumed my secular work with anticipation hoping my strength would hold up. I am so fortunate to have an employer who allowed whatever was needed; rest periods, doctor visits, and emotional and spiritual encouragement.
My greatest challenge is yet ahead. That is to continue to be strong and support my husband in his fight against his newly diagnosed lung cancer.
Amber's Story
I will never forget that day when I heard the words, "We believe you have an aggressive form of breast cancer called Inflammatory Breast Cancer." The words themselves were not a surprise, but the feelings of dread and overwhelming grief were. You see, I had suspected for months that I had breast cancer. Because this form of cancer was so rare, many doctors don't recognize it because they haven't seen it. I had read about it on the internet and had many of the symptoms. I was worried that I had it, yet wasn't diagnosed until a year after my symptoms started. I was a 27 year old mother of 5 who was breast feeding her 4 month old baby. So in early June 2006 when my right breast turned red, hard, and swollen, I was told I had mastitis. I was put on antibiotics, but they didn't help. I ended up in the ER with IV antibiotics. My symptoms were relieved a little bit, but never went all the way away. I was unable to breastfeed with my right breast because it was too painful. Months went by and my right breast continued to grow larger. I returned to my OB-GYN, and was told that I was engorged with milk. I accepted his explanation, and more time passed.
Six months passed from the onset of my breast problems, and I began to have severe pain in my hip and back. From January-March 2007 I visited a chiropractor, an orthopedic surgeon, and a physical therapist. I did physical therapy, had a steroid injection, did a few weeks of spinal decompression and electrode therapy, and yet my pain continued to get worse. I could hardly walk, couldn't lift my one year old baby, couldn't bend.
At the same time I was having this pain in my back and hip, I was still concerned about my breast. I went back to my OB-GYN, and was once again told that my breast was just engorged with milk. This just didn't seem right to me, because I hadn't had any milk come out of my right breast in 6 months. I was still breastfeeding with my left breast, but my right breast was much larger than my left. Still, I trusted my doctor.
In March-April 2007 my breast began to change even more. It had a mottled purple look, and the skin became really thick and looked like the skin of an orange. My nipple turned yellow, and inverted. I was very concerned. One night I was searching the internet to see if I could figure out what was going on with my breast. I stumbled upon a website about inflammatory breast cancer, also called IBC. IBC is a rare, but very aggressive form of breast cancer. It accounts for between only 1-5% of breast cancer. It usually spreads in nests or sheets in the breast, rather than a lump. It is often misdiagnosed as mastitis. The more I read on this site, the more I felt this deep dread and fear inside. I was sure that this is exactly what I had!
The next morning I called my OB-GYN and requested that I be seen that same day. I brought with me a print out of the symptoms of IBC. I told my doctor that I was worried that I had IBC, and he said, "I have been practicing for 20 years, and I have only seen 1 case of inflammatory breast cancer, and you don't have it."Of course I was relieved that my doctor didn't think I had IBC, but I was still concerned about all of the changes in my breast. So, the doctor told me, "I am 99.9% sure it is nothing, but for your peace of mind I will refer you to a surgeon."The first surgeon I saw just glanced at my breast, but didn't think anything serious was going on. He sent me for an ultrasound. The ultrasound result came back as "normal breast tissue", even though by this time, there was a baseball size mass in my breast. I just couldn't understand how this could be!
Luckily, my sister-in-law is an OR nurse. She had heard about my breast issues, and she referred me to a different surgeon who has had a lot of experience with breast cancer. This second surgeon was very concerned when he saw my breast. He had me scheduled for a mammogram the following day.
Film after film after film was taken during my mammogram. I was beginning to get worried. Then I was taken for another ultrasound of my breast. That is when the radiologist came in to do the ultrasound herself. She was able to see enlarged lymph nodes. She showed me the films from my mammogram, which showed cancer sprinkled like sugar all over in the supposed "normal breast tissue". That is when I heard those words, "We believe you have an aggressive form of breast cancer called Inflammatory Breast Cancer."
For a moment, time stood still. And the next moment, my world had changed. The next week was a whirlwind of tests, doctors appointments, biopsies, port placement surgery, more tests, more appointments. The test results did indeed come back as inflammatory breast cancer that had metastasized to my bones and right lung. I had lesions on my skull, ribs, spine, femur, pelvis, and hip and shoulder joints. That was what was causing all of my pain. I felt relieved on one hand to know the cause of my pain, but so frustrated on the other hand. If my OB-GYN had been more proactive, more aware, we could have caught the cancer sooner.
Women need to be more aware of this form of breast cancer, and be aware that you don't have to have a lump to have breast cancer. Women need to know that breast cancer can occur in both younger and older women. Breast cancer can even occur in men! I was 28 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, 12 years younger than the age when mammograms are recommended.
Because the cancer had spread beyond the breast, it was considered stage 4. I will never be cured, will never be in remission, and will be in treatment the rest of my life. The five year survival rate for inflammatory breast cancer is less than 10%. I pray daily that I can beat the odds and be part of that 10% that survives 5 or more years. I did 5 months of weekly chemotherapy, I lost my hair, my eyelashes, my eyebrows. I lost my breast, my ovaries, and my uterus. I lost my sense of taste, and my sense of smell (which isn't always a bad thing when you have to change poopy diapers!) I had radiation 5 times a week for 6 weeks. I have continued with targeted therapies once every 3 weeks since February 2008. Even with good health insurance, our portion of my cancer treatments cost us more every month than our house payment!
The 14 months since my cancer diagnosis have been the hardest of my life. But they have also been the best of my life. Even though I have lost a lot because of cancer, I have gained even more. I have developed an even stronger, deeper, loving relationship with the love of my life, my husband Dan. I have seen him grow as he has taken care of me, and also taken a more active role with the care of our 5 children. I have learned to cherish every moment with my children and other family members. I don't take things for granted anymore. We have received so much service from our friends and neighbors. They brought meals in 3 times a week, took our children every afternoon so I could rest, planted flowers and pulled weeds, cleaned my house, brought cookies, and many more acts of service. I have learned not to waste time worrying about small things, or holding grudges. I have learned that no matter how hard things are for you, there is always someone who is worse off than you are. I have tried to always keep a smile on my face, and find something to laugh about. I am so grateful for every day that I am still here. I treasure each moment with my children. Even though I don't have the energy that I used to, I always have enough energy to snuggle with them, read them a story, help them with homework, and listen to them.
I was once asked that if I could go back in time and never get cancer, would I. My answer was no. I truly believe that hard things in life make us appreciate the good things more. If we never had trials or sickness, we can not fully appreciate the joys of life. If there wasn't a cold, long winter, we couldn't fully enjoy the beauty of spring. If we were never sad, how would we know what happiness is?
The message I would most like to share with others is this: There is always good all around you. All you have to do is look and you will see it. Even though I have a terminal illness, I am still happy. I found out just yesterday that my cancer has spread again. In a few weeks, I will begin aggressive weekly chemotherapy again. I will lose my hair again. I will have to suffer all of the painful side effects again. Yet I still greet the day with a smile. The birds are singing this morning, and the sun is shining, and I am still breathing. It is a beautiful day, and life is good.
Six months passed from the onset of my breast problems, and I began to have severe pain in my hip and back. From January-March 2007 I visited a chiropractor, an orthopedic surgeon, and a physical therapist. I did physical therapy, had a steroid injection, did a few weeks of spinal decompression and electrode therapy, and yet my pain continued to get worse. I could hardly walk, couldn't lift my one year old baby, couldn't bend.
At the same time I was having this pain in my back and hip, I was still concerned about my breast. I went back to my OB-GYN, and was once again told that my breast was just engorged with milk. This just didn't seem right to me, because I hadn't had any milk come out of my right breast in 6 months. I was still breastfeeding with my left breast, but my right breast was much larger than my left. Still, I trusted my doctor.
In March-April 2007 my breast began to change even more. It had a mottled purple look, and the skin became really thick and looked like the skin of an orange. My nipple turned yellow, and inverted. I was very concerned. One night I was searching the internet to see if I could figure out what was going on with my breast. I stumbled upon a website about inflammatory breast cancer, also called IBC. IBC is a rare, but very aggressive form of breast cancer. It accounts for between only 1-5% of breast cancer. It usually spreads in nests or sheets in the breast, rather than a lump. It is often misdiagnosed as mastitis. The more I read on this site, the more I felt this deep dread and fear inside. I was sure that this is exactly what I had!
The next morning I called my OB-GYN and requested that I be seen that same day. I brought with me a print out of the symptoms of IBC. I told my doctor that I was worried that I had IBC, and he said, "I have been practicing for 20 years, and I have only seen 1 case of inflammatory breast cancer, and you don't have it."Of course I was relieved that my doctor didn't think I had IBC, but I was still concerned about all of the changes in my breast. So, the doctor told me, "I am 99.9% sure it is nothing, but for your peace of mind I will refer you to a surgeon."The first surgeon I saw just glanced at my breast, but didn't think anything serious was going on. He sent me for an ultrasound. The ultrasound result came back as "normal breast tissue", even though by this time, there was a baseball size mass in my breast. I just couldn't understand how this could be!
Luckily, my sister-in-law is an OR nurse. She had heard about my breast issues, and she referred me to a different surgeon who has had a lot of experience with breast cancer. This second surgeon was very concerned when he saw my breast. He had me scheduled for a mammogram the following day.
Film after film after film was taken during my mammogram. I was beginning to get worried. Then I was taken for another ultrasound of my breast. That is when the radiologist came in to do the ultrasound herself. She was able to see enlarged lymph nodes. She showed me the films from my mammogram, which showed cancer sprinkled like sugar all over in the supposed "normal breast tissue". That is when I heard those words, "We believe you have an aggressive form of breast cancer called Inflammatory Breast Cancer."
For a moment, time stood still. And the next moment, my world had changed. The next week was a whirlwind of tests, doctors appointments, biopsies, port placement surgery, more tests, more appointments. The test results did indeed come back as inflammatory breast cancer that had metastasized to my bones and right lung. I had lesions on my skull, ribs, spine, femur, pelvis, and hip and shoulder joints. That was what was causing all of my pain. I felt relieved on one hand to know the cause of my pain, but so frustrated on the other hand. If my OB-GYN had been more proactive, more aware, we could have caught the cancer sooner.
Women need to be more aware of this form of breast cancer, and be aware that you don't have to have a lump to have breast cancer. Women need to know that breast cancer can occur in both younger and older women. Breast cancer can even occur in men! I was 28 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, 12 years younger than the age when mammograms are recommended.
Because the cancer had spread beyond the breast, it was considered stage 4. I will never be cured, will never be in remission, and will be in treatment the rest of my life. The five year survival rate for inflammatory breast cancer is less than 10%. I pray daily that I can beat the odds and be part of that 10% that survives 5 or more years. I did 5 months of weekly chemotherapy, I lost my hair, my eyelashes, my eyebrows. I lost my breast, my ovaries, and my uterus. I lost my sense of taste, and my sense of smell (which isn't always a bad thing when you have to change poopy diapers!) I had radiation 5 times a week for 6 weeks. I have continued with targeted therapies once every 3 weeks since February 2008. Even with good health insurance, our portion of my cancer treatments cost us more every month than our house payment!
The 14 months since my cancer diagnosis have been the hardest of my life. But they have also been the best of my life. Even though I have lost a lot because of cancer, I have gained even more. I have developed an even stronger, deeper, loving relationship with the love of my life, my husband Dan. I have seen him grow as he has taken care of me, and also taken a more active role with the care of our 5 children. I have learned to cherish every moment with my children and other family members. I don't take things for granted anymore. We have received so much service from our friends and neighbors. They brought meals in 3 times a week, took our children every afternoon so I could rest, planted flowers and pulled weeds, cleaned my house, brought cookies, and many more acts of service. I have learned not to waste time worrying about small things, or holding grudges. I have learned that no matter how hard things are for you, there is always someone who is worse off than you are. I have tried to always keep a smile on my face, and find something to laugh about. I am so grateful for every day that I am still here. I treasure each moment with my children. Even though I don't have the energy that I used to, I always have enough energy to snuggle with them, read them a story, help them with homework, and listen to them.
I was once asked that if I could go back in time and never get cancer, would I. My answer was no. I truly believe that hard things in life make us appreciate the good things more. If we never had trials or sickness, we can not fully appreciate the joys of life. If there wasn't a cold, long winter, we couldn't fully enjoy the beauty of spring. If we were never sad, how would we know what happiness is?
The message I would most like to share with others is this: There is always good all around you. All you have to do is look and you will see it. Even though I have a terminal illness, I am still happy. I found out just yesterday that my cancer has spread again. In a few weeks, I will begin aggressive weekly chemotherapy again. I will lose my hair again. I will have to suffer all of the painful side effects again. Yet I still greet the day with a smile. The birds are singing this morning, and the sun is shining, and I am still breathing. It is a beautiful day, and life is good.
Shannon's Story
After seeing the article in my local newspaper, I've thought deeply about what I would say. First of all, let me answer some of your questions and then show you my heart. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in June, 2007 after I found a lump in my breast. I am a believer in self examinations because my mammogram five months prior showed nothing. I had a mastectomy in July, 2007, and began chemo in August, 2007. Besides my cancer diagnosis, it was also discovered that I am estrogen positive, and HER2 positive. Although my chemo was completed in December, 2007, I am now undergoing Herceptin treatment just like I did with chemo (every 3 weeks, through my port for 1 year). I am also taking a medication called Tamoxifen for my estrogen positive diagnosis that will last for five years. I recently underwent my final reconstructive breast surgery two weeks ago, and I think I am actually done with surgery (five in one year is exhausting). I have learned many things over the past year and have faced many challenges however I would have to say that my Faith has played a big role. I never once considered the possibility of death for a number of reasons. I have two daughters, and I had to fight for them. Not only were they confused about my diagnosis, but their father and I had separated six weeks prior. I had to be strong. I had to continue to raise them in a healthy way, even though I was not healthy. I had to continue to wake up each morning and ask God to give me the strength to get through the day-not the week, the day. My 11 year old daughter and I were talking one night, and she asked me why God would give me cancer and take her daddy away all in one month. I had to answer her honestly and tell her that there was a plan for me....for us...and although I was not sure yet what it was, it was already predetermined. I now know that I am to get involved with raising awareness. I participated in the Susan G. Koman race in my area and loved it. I then helped raise money for our local Relay For Life and finally felt connected. I have been contacted by the commitee recently to join their team. My life changed on June 25th, 2007 FOREVER....but to me it's not been a bad thing. I have a purpose, a direction that was not there before. I am a women with Breast Cancer. I am a fighter. I am strong. I have a relationship with other cancer women that nobody else gets.....and that is powerful!!!
LaRena's Story
In January 2005, I was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. I had a large tumor across my stomach under the skin layers. (I thought was fat and the diet wasn't working.) and another in the uterus. My Oncologist decided to give me Chemotherapy to try to shrink the size of the tumor before surgery. After 6 installments of chemo of 3 weeks apart, I underwent surgery on July 7 2005. It was a full hysterectomy and also the removal of the mass across my stomach. The surgeon was very confident that the removal was complete. At my last followup appointment on July 8,2008, I was cancer free for 3 years now. Then I had to ruin it, I mentioned that I thought I had a lump in my breast. My oncologist got me in for a Mammogram and biopsy. The biopsy showed cancerous cells. The good news is that it is unrelated to the previous cancer. I met with the surgeon and had a MRI so he could have a better look. He sent me for genetic testing, because my mother and grandmother also had cancer. The good news is that I have neither BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes. I was scheduled for surgery July 29 and I hope everything came out okay. (ha ha) In the future, I'm now facing the possibility of Radiation therapy or Chemotherapy or maybe both. At the age of 54, this was my first Mammogram. I have been thinking that I should get one for years and after all, It's not the worst thing that ever happened to me! It would have been good for them to compare and It may have led to earlier detection of Breast Cancer. Now. I would advise women to get a Mammogram early and often and if diagnosis is cancer, be strong, keep fighting, and the hard part, do what the doctors tell you to do.
Ginger'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.
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.
Elma's Story
I am sharing this story on behalf of my wife who is currently undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer. My wife was diagnosed with stage I/II breast cancer in April of this year at the age of 37 after finding a very small lump in her breast. She was told that it was nothing to worry about but persisted in having it further evaluated and much to everyones surprise it was invasive ductal carcinoma. She had a very difficult time deciding what treatment options to choose but was told that she was a good candidate for a partial mastectomy due to the lump being just 1cm and having enough tissue available to make this a good cosmetic option. She had surgery in May and because of her young age she was advised to have chemotherapy rather than just taking temoxiphin. She is currently undergoing four cycles chemo. and will the have six weeks of radiation therapy followed by five years of temoxiphin. We still have a ways to go in this battle and it has been very difficult. We have two sons ages six and ten and they have taken all of this pretty hard. My wife worked part time before she became sick and is not currently working. I am the sole provider for our family but I have had to use much of my time off to take her to her doctor/hospital visits. We have health insurance but it has high deductables and out of pocket expenses and we have built up quite a few expenses. We seem to fall in the area of middle class when it comes to receiving any sort of assistance and we haven't been eligible for much. This has put a lot of stress on our home and not to mention our marriage. If there is anything positive to say about this is that her doctors have been great. We are very thankful that she pursued further testing when she did. We have also had alot of support from our family and friends. We have not had to cook a meal in several weeks thanks to them. We are taking things one day at a time and doing everything we can to ensure that our boys grow up with their mommy around. I'm sure that once my wife is feeling stronger she would be happy to share all of the details and she can probably do a much better job of it than I.
Starla's Story
Cancer. I never realized how dramatically cancer would affect my life up until the last year and a half. My mother died from ovarian cancer, my father-n-law was diagnosed with prostrate cancer, I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and in the middle of it all Hurrican Rita ravaged our homes and lives.
I am a breast cancer patient. I have endured chemotherapy and radiation. I'll never forget my first chemo. treatment. I was feeling fine on the drive home (2 hours), calling family to tell them how great I felt. Little did I know, the drugs given before chemo. were working well. About the time we pulled in our driveway I first felt nauseated. My husband had prescriptions to fill for anti-nausea meds., but it was midnight. He waited until the next morning, but our small town pharmacy didn't have the prescribed medications. By that time my nausea was bad, I was dehydrated and still nauseated. We drove for two hours back to the ER.
The most difficult part of my treatment is not having the ultimate supporter and nurturer: my mother. There have been so many times I wanted to hug her and cry on her shoulder. Also, another very difficult situation is the genetic testing I recently received my results.(positive BRCA1 and BRCA11) Now my daughters can be affected. Of coarse, I don't know if they are genetically positive, but they both have a 50% chance.
Before, I thought cancer equaled death. I know many people die from cancer, like my mother. However, I have also seen another side of cancer. Cancer can reveal strength, love, caring , prayers, parties, research and many more good things. People have reached out and I have experienced their love and support. My family has enjoyed many cooked and delivered meals. I was given a supirse hat party; where everyone brought me a hat or scarf to cover my bare head. Also we had a "no more radiation celebration". I received these blessings in a time of need, and I want to give back. I'm a cancer patient, I've lost a love one, and I intend to survive this illness. Therefore, I can become more knowledgeable and watch for new research that will benefit so many women.
I am a breast cancer patient. I have endured chemotherapy and radiation. I'll never forget my first chemo. treatment. I was feeling fine on the drive home (2 hours), calling family to tell them how great I felt. Little did I know, the drugs given before chemo. were working well. About the time we pulled in our driveway I first felt nauseated. My husband had prescriptions to fill for anti-nausea meds., but it was midnight. He waited until the next morning, but our small town pharmacy didn't have the prescribed medications. By that time my nausea was bad, I was dehydrated and still nauseated. We drove for two hours back to the ER.
The most difficult part of my treatment is not having the ultimate supporter and nurturer: my mother. There have been so many times I wanted to hug her and cry on her shoulder. Also, another very difficult situation is the genetic testing I recently received my results.(positive BRCA1 and BRCA11) Now my daughters can be affected. Of coarse, I don't know if they are genetically positive, but they both have a 50% chance.
Before, I thought cancer equaled death. I know many people die from cancer, like my mother. However, I have also seen another side of cancer. Cancer can reveal strength, love, caring , prayers, parties, research and many more good things. People have reached out and I have experienced their love and support. My family has enjoyed many cooked and delivered meals. I was given a supirse hat party; where everyone brought me a hat or scarf to cover my bare head. Also we had a "no more radiation celebration". I received these blessings in a time of need, and I want to give back. I'm a cancer patient, I've lost a love one, and I intend to survive this illness. Therefore, I can become more knowledgeable and watch for new research that will benefit so many women.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Charlotte's Story
Hi, my name is Charlotte , and actually I'am both a Breast Cancer survivor & currently have Breast Cancer again. I was first diagnosed in 1999 in my right Breast, they did a mysectomy & I went through Chemo & reconstructive surgery and 5 years on tomixifan & was cured. now here I'am 9 yrs. later & while doing my self exams in Feb. 2008 I found another lump in my left Breast. I went to the Drs. & you guessed it, it was again Cancer, a little worse this time, So am now undergoing 8 rounds of chemo, on round 3 now. & then radiation. am also in process of reconstructive surgery again. I lost my hair about two weeks ago. This Chemo is hitting me pretty hard, But I'am a SURVIVOR & will be fine. I have my pitty party moments, but mostly am pretty positive! I don't believe in quitting! This Chemo is hitting me pretty hard, tired all the time, & this chemo makes my throat very sore, which makes it hard to eat or swallow. My greatest challenge now has been the tiredness, & sore throat & the burden I feel I'am putting my family. my significant lesson learned would be I should have insisted last time for the Dr. to take both Breasts, & you can get it again & how very important self exams are.!!! & I also believe I'am here to help other women with their diagnosis & to give them encouragement. With my wonderful husband support & my family support I will SURVIVE! I refuse to give up! You are not immune to this horrible disease after the 5 year period. My advise to other women is don't stop getting mammograms & more importantly always do self Breast exams, they are very important! I WILL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS & I WILL SURVIVE!
Leslie's Story
On President’s Day 2008, I thought my life was perfect. I had everything I had ever dreamed of and was the happiest I had ever been in my life. I spent the early holiday morning running on the beach, thanking my God for all the abundance and joy I had in my life. I allowed my heart to feel the moment and etch it into my memories as one of the greatest mornings of my life.
I held onto my fabulous President’s Day memory the next morning, as I entered my doctor’s office. I had an appointment, at the stern prompting of my husband, to have an unusual lump in my left breast examined. I discovered it by chance a few days before while my little girl slept in my arms. She made a quick movement and her head hit my breast. I felt an unusual throbbing pain. Why had I not felt this before? By chance, I was lying with both of my sleeping children in one bed, one on each side of me. By chance, I had both arms above my head, just like they tell you to do during your monthly self- breast exam. By chance or miracle, I felt the elusive lump that would hide if my arm was down to my side.
I could see in my doctor’s eyes as he examined the lump that he was deeply concerned and worried. I also knew at that moment that the lump was not “normal”. No matter how many people in the next 48 hours were to tell me “everything will be fine”, I knew in my heart that the elusive lump was cancerous. Though my life was perfect the day before, my life would be unrecognizable within days.
Exactly one week later, I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, a grade 3 tumor that is estrogen receptive. As my doctor slowly announced my diagnosis, all I could think of was how weird all the words sounded. They were of a vocabulary unknown to me that moment, but would be a language I would be well-versed in within days. My life changed instantaneously, with Dr.’s appointments, scans, tests and hours of research. I felt like I was studying for an exam in which I never attended the class, but had to get a perfect score on the final test. There were so many decisions to make; the first major one was whether to get a lumpectomy, a single mastectomy or a bilateral mastectomy with or without reconstruction. With family history and the statistics laid before me, I made the very emotional choice of a bi-lateral mastectomy with reconstruction. Every woman with breast cancer has their own attachment and emotions regarding their breasts. Though mine were not the young firm breasts of my youth, they were mine and I would miss them for many reasons. But the decision was easy to make given the statistics of reoccurrence and the very young age of my children. I wanted their childhood to only be interrupted once. My chemotherapy would commence three weeks post- surgery. In the days and weeks that followed, I cried, screamed, and quietly said good-bye to my life as I had known it. I hugged, kissed and connected with my family and many friends in a way I had never had before.
The wonderful thing about the chaos of cancer is that is quickly puts a blur to your memories and rituals of yesterday. Your life and vocabulary changes and your priorities are quickly realigned. I am still in the midst of my chemotherapy. The therapy has not been kind to me. I am not “one of those” that goes through the series of treatments with mild reactions. My reactions have been severe, similar to being hit with a Mac Truck. I get relentless body aches, mouth sores, fatigue, and abdominal pains. I contracted a severe Staph infection from my port-a -cath surgery between rounds 1 and 2, adding yet another prescription to my pharmaceutical list. My treatments are 21 days apart. It takes just that long to recover before the next semi-tractor trailer of Chemotherapy roles over me. I have two more rounds of chemo to endure and conquer. I plan on decorating my chemo chair with festive balloons on August 6, 2008. It will be a celebration.
I am a 43 year old Personal Trainer, who was very fit and active with incredible endurance. Today, I am easily fatigued, unable to work and manage my family on a daily basis. I am dependent on family and friends to keep my home running somewhat smoothly. My workouts are not five mile runs but rather gentle walks around the neighborhood. Yet, the lessons I have learned keep getting better, clearer and more profound. Though I was a physically strong woman, as a cancer patient I am realizing my real strength as a human being.
Cancer has put me in the middle of a minefield, a mine of diamonds. The lessons have been gems that I have shared with all my friends and family through an update letter I send out regularly to keep everyone informed of the real experience of Breast Cancer. Cancer has made me see what a “perfect” life really looks like. It is one filled with authentic friendships, deep family connections and an honest relationship with self. It has made me see how I needed to take even better care of myself not just in a physical way but in a deeper spiritual way, in order to be a better mother and wife. It made me see how divine my friendships are and what an incredible man I married. Cancer has given me a view of my life from a new perspective that makes me cry with joy and embrace each of life’s moments with joy and love. Though I stand today bald and without my breasts, I would have to say my life is – perfect! My cancer journey continues to challenge me on all levels, yet it offers me gifts of life that are only offered to the beautiful women and men fighting cancer. We are all truly winning the Big Game of life!
I held onto my fabulous President’s Day memory the next morning, as I entered my doctor’s office. I had an appointment, at the stern prompting of my husband, to have an unusual lump in my left breast examined. I discovered it by chance a few days before while my little girl slept in my arms. She made a quick movement and her head hit my breast. I felt an unusual throbbing pain. Why had I not felt this before? By chance, I was lying with both of my sleeping children in one bed, one on each side of me. By chance, I had both arms above my head, just like they tell you to do during your monthly self- breast exam. By chance or miracle, I felt the elusive lump that would hide if my arm was down to my side.
I could see in my doctor’s eyes as he examined the lump that he was deeply concerned and worried. I also knew at that moment that the lump was not “normal”. No matter how many people in the next 48 hours were to tell me “everything will be fine”, I knew in my heart that the elusive lump was cancerous. Though my life was perfect the day before, my life would be unrecognizable within days.
Exactly one week later, I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, a grade 3 tumor that is estrogen receptive. As my doctor slowly announced my diagnosis, all I could think of was how weird all the words sounded. They were of a vocabulary unknown to me that moment, but would be a language I would be well-versed in within days. My life changed instantaneously, with Dr.’s appointments, scans, tests and hours of research. I felt like I was studying for an exam in which I never attended the class, but had to get a perfect score on the final test. There were so many decisions to make; the first major one was whether to get a lumpectomy, a single mastectomy or a bilateral mastectomy with or without reconstruction. With family history and the statistics laid before me, I made the very emotional choice of a bi-lateral mastectomy with reconstruction. Every woman with breast cancer has their own attachment and emotions regarding their breasts. Though mine were not the young firm breasts of my youth, they were mine and I would miss them for many reasons. But the decision was easy to make given the statistics of reoccurrence and the very young age of my children. I wanted their childhood to only be interrupted once. My chemotherapy would commence three weeks post- surgery. In the days and weeks that followed, I cried, screamed, and quietly said good-bye to my life as I had known it. I hugged, kissed and connected with my family and many friends in a way I had never had before.
The wonderful thing about the chaos of cancer is that is quickly puts a blur to your memories and rituals of yesterday. Your life and vocabulary changes and your priorities are quickly realigned. I am still in the midst of my chemotherapy. The therapy has not been kind to me. I am not “one of those” that goes through the series of treatments with mild reactions. My reactions have been severe, similar to being hit with a Mac Truck. I get relentless body aches, mouth sores, fatigue, and abdominal pains. I contracted a severe Staph infection from my port-a -cath surgery between rounds 1 and 2, adding yet another prescription to my pharmaceutical list. My treatments are 21 days apart. It takes just that long to recover before the next semi-tractor trailer of Chemotherapy roles over me. I have two more rounds of chemo to endure and conquer. I plan on decorating my chemo chair with festive balloons on August 6, 2008. It will be a celebration.
I am a 43 year old Personal Trainer, who was very fit and active with incredible endurance. Today, I am easily fatigued, unable to work and manage my family on a daily basis. I am dependent on family and friends to keep my home running somewhat smoothly. My workouts are not five mile runs but rather gentle walks around the neighborhood. Yet, the lessons I have learned keep getting better, clearer and more profound. Though I was a physically strong woman, as a cancer patient I am realizing my real strength as a human being.
Cancer has put me in the middle of a minefield, a mine of diamonds. The lessons have been gems that I have shared with all my friends and family through an update letter I send out regularly to keep everyone informed of the real experience of Breast Cancer. Cancer has made me see what a “perfect” life really looks like. It is one filled with authentic friendships, deep family connections and an honest relationship with self. It has made me see how I needed to take even better care of myself not just in a physical way but in a deeper spiritual way, in order to be a better mother and wife. It made me see how divine my friendships are and what an incredible man I married. Cancer has given me a view of my life from a new perspective that makes me cry with joy and embrace each of life’s moments with joy and love. Though I stand today bald and without my breasts, I would have to say my life is – perfect! My cancer journey continues to challenge me on all levels, yet it offers me gifts of life that are only offered to the beautiful women and men fighting cancer. We are all truly winning the Big Game of life!
Denise's Story
In December 2007 I had planned to run the Las Vegas 1/2 marathon with several friends of mine and I wasn't going to let the recently noticed change in my left breast deter me from my goal and the promise to my friends. I had talked to my close friends about a small lump I had found and knew I needed to get checked and was reassured when 2 of them had also found lumps that turned out not to be cancerous. I finally made the doctor's appointment when I arrived home from Las Vegas a little dehydrated and my husband remarked about the change in my breast. My breast had become puckered in the area of the growth, a worrisome sign unbeknownst to me, and was much more noticeable when my body was dehydrated.
I went to see my doctor in January, who sent me for a mammogram. The mammogram didn't show anything definitive, so they sent me to ultrasound. The tech took pictures and measurements and then went to find the radiologist. The radiologist wanted to biopsy the growth immediately, so I felt some concern. I had a consult with a surgeon who gave me hope in the fact that it was highly unlikely that an active 35 year old woman with no family history of breast cancer was going to be diagnosed with breast cancer.
Two days later, January 25th, 2008, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.I was shocked and scared. Mostly scared that this was going to completely alter my life and my family's life and already mourning the fact that I was going to lose my hair. I knew enough about breast cancer to know that many women are diagnosed with breast cancer and many are cured, so I was not afraid of dying. I did, however, have to go through surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy.
My whirlwind began with an MRI, which showed three more growths in the same breast. I elected to have a masectomy right away. The surgery was performed the first week of February and went well. Next on the list was chemo and I began biweekly treatments in March and finished June 13th, 2008. I had very supportive family, friends and neighborhood who helped me with meals, cleaning, taking my kids, or anything else needed. My best girlfriends continued to walk/run and lift weights with me even when I could only run downhill or walk the whole way. I was able to go to all of my kids' basketball, soccer and baseball games by cutting out some of the cleaning and volunteering that I did during the day while my children were at school. I prioritized the things in my life and then stuck to what I could handle. Excercise helped me handle chemo in a more positive way and actually made the aches associated with one of the chemo drugs less painfull.
I began radiation at the beginning of July and have 5 1/2 weeks worth of every day (5 days a week) treatments. So far, this seems easy in comparison to chemotherapy, but I have not noticed any side effects yet. I am told these are yet to come. (Redness, tiredness, etc.)
This week, I elected to have an oopherectomy and a hysterectomy. I have spoke to several doctors and read up on the hormone therapy I will need to be on for the next five years and decided that I wanted to be on an aromatase inhibitor for post menopausal women.
My biggest fear when I found out I had cancer was that this was going to take all my time and energy. I didn't want cancer to change everything in my life. I have 3 beautiful children who need a mom who can help them with their homework, cheer for them at their games and kiss them before bed. I wanted to be able to run and lift weights like I have for the better part of my life. How was this all going to work?That is what I learned from cancer. Face cancer, head on, like any other challenge. After a good cry, get the information you need to make decisions. Make those decisions and get going. There's nothing like marking something off your list of things to do. Prioritize the things in your life and then do as many of those things as you can. As long as I was there for my kids and husband and was able to excercise, everything else was able to be put off. Think positive and take action. Being inactive gives you more time to worry and "what if" yourself.
We live in a time when great advances have been made in the breast cancer research and treatment. There is much hope to be felt in this fact!
I went to see my doctor in January, who sent me for a mammogram. The mammogram didn't show anything definitive, so they sent me to ultrasound. The tech took pictures and measurements and then went to find the radiologist. The radiologist wanted to biopsy the growth immediately, so I felt some concern. I had a consult with a surgeon who gave me hope in the fact that it was highly unlikely that an active 35 year old woman with no family history of breast cancer was going to be diagnosed with breast cancer.
Two days later, January 25th, 2008, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.I was shocked and scared. Mostly scared that this was going to completely alter my life and my family's life and already mourning the fact that I was going to lose my hair. I knew enough about breast cancer to know that many women are diagnosed with breast cancer and many are cured, so I was not afraid of dying. I did, however, have to go through surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy.
My whirlwind began with an MRI, which showed three more growths in the same breast. I elected to have a masectomy right away. The surgery was performed the first week of February and went well. Next on the list was chemo and I began biweekly treatments in March and finished June 13th, 2008. I had very supportive family, friends and neighborhood who helped me with meals, cleaning, taking my kids, or anything else needed. My best girlfriends continued to walk/run and lift weights with me even when I could only run downhill or walk the whole way. I was able to go to all of my kids' basketball, soccer and baseball games by cutting out some of the cleaning and volunteering that I did during the day while my children were at school. I prioritized the things in my life and then stuck to what I could handle. Excercise helped me handle chemo in a more positive way and actually made the aches associated with one of the chemo drugs less painfull.
I began radiation at the beginning of July and have 5 1/2 weeks worth of every day (5 days a week) treatments. So far, this seems easy in comparison to chemotherapy, but I have not noticed any side effects yet. I am told these are yet to come. (Redness, tiredness, etc.)
This week, I elected to have an oopherectomy and a hysterectomy. I have spoke to several doctors and read up on the hormone therapy I will need to be on for the next five years and decided that I wanted to be on an aromatase inhibitor for post menopausal women.
My biggest fear when I found out I had cancer was that this was going to take all my time and energy. I didn't want cancer to change everything in my life. I have 3 beautiful children who need a mom who can help them with their homework, cheer for them at their games and kiss them before bed. I wanted to be able to run and lift weights like I have for the better part of my life. How was this all going to work?That is what I learned from cancer. Face cancer, head on, like any other challenge. After a good cry, get the information you need to make decisions. Make those decisions and get going. There's nothing like marking something off your list of things to do. Prioritize the things in your life and then do as many of those things as you can. As long as I was there for my kids and husband and was able to excercise, everything else was able to be put off. Think positive and take action. Being inactive gives you more time to worry and "what if" yourself.
We live in a time when great advances have been made in the breast cancer research and treatment. There is much hope to be felt in this fact!
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