I was cheering on my middle daughter as she ran the NYC marathon with a team raising funds for cancer research while I was awaiting the results of my own biopsy. Both the breast surgeon and radiologist had reassured me that they were just being cautious and that they did not think it was anything to worry about. The Monday after the marathon, though, I got a phone call that I was not expecting. The biopsy showed invasive ductal carcinoma. Initially, we thought it was very small and that we caught it early. It was only supposed to be an "inconvenience" as the doctors described it.
This all happened just two months after my sister-in-law was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer and was nearing the end of her battle. I remember being afraid and just thinking I didn't want to have to deal with this knowing it would cause upheaval in my life and for my husband and daughters. Having no family history of any cancer, it was a true shock. But, I tried to remain positive and took comfort in the thought that it was small, caught early, and should be an easy challenge to conquer.
Unfortunately, as my journey continued, it seemed like every meeting with the doctor uncovered another surprise. They kept saying they were still optimistic because it was early phase, the tumor was small, etc. But then we learned that it was HER2+ so I would need chemotherapy. Quickly the discussions turned to ports, cold caps, hair loss, etc. and it seemed like we were moving at 1,000 mph. We were all in shock.
The next surprise was the MRI showed a large area of Ductal Carcinoma in Situ, so I would need at least a single side mastectomy. Despite having to go through chemo and now a huge surgery, it was considered very early stage and curable. And so my journey began.
Telling my three daughters who were in their 20’s was the worst day. Their fear and grief ripped me to shreds. But I promised them that it would be okay and focused on how fortunate we caught it early.
I had my surgery three days after we buried my sister-in-law. It was a really hard time for all of us. But the surgery went according to plan. I came home the same day feeling surprisingly better than I expected. My surgery was five days before Christmas, so I was lucky to have my whole family home with me for a solid two weeks. They entertained me with puzzles, watching movies, etc. But then it was back to life for them, and that was tough.
The best news came in ten days post-surgery when I was told my lymph nodes were clear. At that point, I was technically cancer-free even though chemo and another surgery were still on the horizon. I was very lucky that the chemo and herceptin treatment did not cause significant side effects. I was able to work through treatment and did tons of walking. I just lived a quieter life during those months.
My reconstruction ended up being the most difficult part of the year. I had some complications where my skin wasn't really healing or getting enough blood supply. We determined that the safest path for success was to have a latissimus dorsi flap surgery on the cancer side. That came with a six week recovery that I wasn't expecting and caused the most discomfort. It was also hard emotionally because I truly thought I was out of the woods.
Seven months after my diagnosis, I was finally starting to feel like my life was mine again. I continued herceptin injections for the remainder of the year with no side effects. And, I was so touched to return to the sidelines of the NYC marathon to cheer on my youngest daughter who ran to raise funds for breast cancer research in my honor!
During my cancer journey, I was blessed to be connected with people I didn't know who had walked the same path I did. These folks were my lifeline, answering all the dumb questions and filling me with such joy because they were here to tell their story. Because of them, I searched for a way to give that same support to others and found Cancer Hope Network.
I have been blessed to talk with over a dozen warriors that are going through their cancer journey and have listened to their fears and tried to give them some calm. Ultimately, I look at my cancer journey as a gift. The perspective it has given me to have gratitude for everyday joys is the new compass of my life. I am a better person because of this, and I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family and my amazing circle of friends. I call them my elephant circle because of a story I once saw about how female elephants will form a circle around a member of their herd to protect them if they are vulnerable. That’s exactly what my circle did for me!
