What a year!

I sat down at my desk today with the intention to update my planner, and finally take time to shred the stack of papers waiting for someone to notice them, I noticed the date on my desk calendar, It's February 19th. Tomorrow would have been my dad's 93rd Birthday. Instead it's his second heavenly birthday. February 19th, is also the last day that I felt like myself.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024, I had an appointment for a mammogram and ultra sound. I had a routine mammogram just a couple weeks prior. They called and said they needed more imaging. I’ve always been good about making sure to have annual exams and mammograms. In fact I had been called back after an exam a few times. The results were always “dense breast tissue”.  Nothing to worry about. Twice I found a lump and the doctor sent me to a breast surgeon to check it out. Both times they were cysts. Nothing to worry about. So I didn’t. When I got the call to schedule a follow up mammogram and ultra sound this time, I wasn’t worried either. After all, I didn’t have any of the “risk factors”. As far as I knew, my family didn’t have a history of Breast Cancer. (I have since learned otherwise.) I didn’t drink or smoke and for the most part, I tried to eat healthy. 

I have since learned that family history has very little to do with your risk for Breast Cancer. In fact, one in eight people develop Breast Cancer. Let that sink in for a minute. One in eight people develop Breast Cancer. I hope you noticed that I said people and not women. Both men and women are at risk for Breast Cancer. So, here is my PSA. Check your tata’s and be sure to get screened annually for Breast Cancer. Talk to your family about their health. Ask questions. Especially in families don’t spend a lot of time together. Ask how “Aunt Sue” passed away. 

I got up early on the morning of my appointment. As I got ready, I was thinking about how many fun things we had planned for the next several months. My husband and I had just booked our 35th anniversary trip to the Florida Keys. I finally felt settled into our new life down here in Huntsville. I drove myself to my appointment singing along to the radio like I didn't have a care in the world. Life was good and I was grateful.

I walked into Huntsville Hospital Breast Center for what I thought was just another call back for better images. Nothing to worry about. However, this time the door they called me back to was on the opposite side of the room from my original mammogram. At first I thought nothing of it. Later on I figured out, that was the side for call backs, and biopsies. 

A sweet elderly woman who was working as a hospital volunteer, handed me the familiar, white, waffle knit robe fresh from the warmer. This time I noticed a little pink Breast Cancer ribbon on the left side. I mentioned to the woman how nice it was to have a warm robe instead of those flimsy paper shirts that always left me feeling exposed and cold. She told me that the family of breast cancer patient donated the robes and warmers in memory of their loved one.

I sat down to wait. There were a few women waiting as well. A woman sat down next to me to wait. She was very chatty, as she was nervous. I really wasn’t nervous at all. The chatty woman was called back to ultrasound first. I told her to relax, everything would be fine. About 10 minutes passed and it was my turn. 

The room was dark except for the light of the ultrasound screen. The ultrasound tech was extremely patient while I tried to get set for her. There is no comfortable way to lay on those tables. I wish I knew her name. I’m sure she told me but it escapes me now. It’s always an uncomfortable situation lying still with breasts exposed while a technician presses the ultrasound wand over the questionable area. So I tried to just look at the ceiling and count tiles while she worked. The tiles were all white except one, it had a beautiful sea turtle painted on it. I said, “I love the painted tile”. The tech, whose name I still can’t remember said “a staff member painted one for each room. They give patients something to look at.” 

Typically an ultra sound takes 30 minutes or less. This one had to be the longest I'd ever had. I started getting a little nervous so I asked “is everything ok?” She didn’t look concerned, but said “I need to bring the radiologist in to look at this. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

A few minutes later in walked the technician with the radiologist. They both proceeded to look at the ultra sound together. There was a lot of pointing and measuring going on. When they were finally satisfied with the images they had, the technician told me I could cover up with the robe and sit in the chair next to the table.

By this point, I didn’t know what to think or feel. Never in all of the imaging I have previously had, was the radiologist called in. I was beginning to get very nervous, almost sick.  

The radiologist leaned against the wall across from me. “I’m Christian. I am the radiologist reading your images." He began to ask me if I had felt the mass or if a routine mammogram found it. I told him it was a routine screening. He then explained that the mass was about the size of a cherry tomato and I would need a biopsy tomorrow. He said some other things, that I just can’t remember. I felt like I was watching a movie. Only I was in it. I suddenly snapped out of my fog when I heard him ask if I had any questions. Questions? Of course I had questions. Only I didn’t know what to ask. So all I was able to say was, “are you sure?”. He explained that there was no way to know for sure without a biopsy, but at the very least I would need

a breast surgery.

Shortly after I got dressed a woman came to get me and took me to a private room with a couch, a couple chairs and a box of tissues on a coffee table. She told me her name was Tara and she would be my nurse navigator and would be making all of my necessary appointments. She handed me an appointment card for the next morning. Told me not to wear any lotions or deodorant . She said the procedure would take about 45 minute. I was still so shocked by everything that had taken place. I felt like I was moving and thinking in slow motion. All I really knew was that something was terribly wrong and I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. I thanked her and excused myself. 

I practically ran to my car which was literally parked right in front of the building. It probably looked ridiculous running to my car, but I didn't care. I sat there for about 5 minutes just stunned. Finally, I called my husband to fill him in on my appointment. I asked him to take leave. They had told me I could drive myself. But I knew  I couldn’t. I felt too sick and stunned as it was. Miller was calm just like always and said he would take leave for me.

 Having information that you have something and it’s probably Cancer but hasn’t been confirmed is awful. You don’t want to say anything to anyone until you know for sure. I needed to talk to someone. Of course I called my best friend Sandy in Michigan and my new Alabama bestie, Elena. Elena grabbed a bottle of water for me and said, lets take a walk. She had walked through Breast Cancer with her mom and her sister in law. Two very different circumstances and outcomes. I was grateful for how calm she was and still is. For my every freakout, she has helped me to see clearly what is before me.

At the time that I called Sandy, neither of us had any idea, that just days later she also would get a call back and need a biopsy. 10 days after my diagnosis my best friend was also diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I used to think Breast Cancer was Breast Cancer. I had no idea how many different types of Breast Cancer existed. Sandy and I had totally different Cancers and totally different stories. We would have totally different treatments as well.

Wednesday morning, February 21st my husband and I rode to my appointment in silence. Apparently, small talk about the weather, traffic or plans for the weekend no longer matter when you are faced with the possibility of Cancer. We both hoped this would just be nothing more than a scare. But deep down, I think we knew it was Cancer. I’m not even sure how, I just felt it. 

The nurse called me back and helped me get set for the biopsy. I remember asking the radiologist how they were so sure it was cancer before having the pathology. She said, it would be highly unlikely to not be cancer, based on the size and edges of the masses. Results should take 24 to 48 hours and they would call me either way. 

Thursday afternoon I got the call that I did indeed have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Stage and details would come later. Tara, the nurse navigator asked me to come in Friday Morning for more information and all the upcoming appointment info I would need.

I wish I could tell you more about that afternoon, but somehow, I can’t remember any details. I know I cried a lot. Elena’s sister in law called me to offer her support. I just wanted to go to bed and not come out again. I don’t even remember telling my husband officially. It just seemed like someone pressed fast on a roller coaster and I was dizzy from it.

Friday morning, Tara, my nurse navigator, handed me the print out of the full pathology report. She paused to let me look it over. At the bottom of the report I noticed the words, “Triple Negative”. I’m not even sure why they caught my eye and I immediately looked it up on Google. For the record, Google is not your friend. It’s that negative person that tells you the worst case of every situation. But I had already done it to myself. I googled and started to panic. I had to know what I was facing. Turns out what I was facing would be a long, hard fight. There is no “cure” for TNBC, but I had a pretty good chance of living a long life. 

My next steps would be an MRI to look at the mass and lymph nodes around it. That would be Saturday night. Monday, I would see a breast surgeon and we would go from there. Like I said, this roller coaster was on fast speed. From the surgeon, I was sent to an oncologist. He had me in surgery to place a port with in days and chemo was set to begin a couple days later. All of this took place from Feb 20th- March 7th. My head

was spinning!

The next six months seemed like the fasted and slowest months of my life. 24 weeks of chemo resulted in 24 weeks of fevers for me. Miraculously I never vomited. Three hospital stays, one of them was 14 days. I even spent 3 days on a ventilator. I lost all my hair including my eyebrows and eyelashes. I had a double mastectomy after all the chemo was completed. On September 29th, a Sunday afternoon, the surgeon called to tell me that all margins and lymph nodes were clear. There was no evidence of disease left in my body. Praise the Lord! We did it!

I'd like to say that I fought like a warrior and never had any fear. That would be a complete lie. I can honestly say that it is entirely possible to have faith that God would carry me through this and still feel some anxiety. I remember saying that I knew I was about to walk through fire, but I would come out without appearing to have been burnt. When I no longer had the energy to pray, I would lie in bed listening to worship music. I let the words of so many songs be my prayer. The incredible peace that would wash over me is unexplainable.

There is really so much more to say. I can't begin to thank everyone for the love and support shown to me and my family. Please know that every text, phone call (even if I just listened to the voicemail), card, package, beautiful floral arrangement, meal or visit, blessed us more that words could ever say.

A year later, I feel thankful. My life is different. I am not the same person I was a year ago. Cancer has given me a reason to be a better version of who I was before. I used to tell Miller that I had a baby while he was in another country, I could do anything. Now I get to say that I survived Triple Negative Breast Cancer, I CAN DO anything!