I am the face of many things.

I am...

a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, an educator, a strong-willed and passionate advocate of those in need, persistent, resilient, and a sometimes a bit too outspoken 

 

Today, as I look in the mirror, I see each of these and more. 

 

I also see...

fear, anxiety, uncertainty, sleep deprived eyes, bruises brought on by a multitude of tests and a fierce determination to kick some ass

 

I see the face of stage 3 breast cancer.

 

Sharing my diagnosis and story with others empowers me, reduces my fear, and allows me to own this battle instead of it owning me.

 

The diagnosis:

This was the beginning of cancer's ever present force in my life, early January 2017.  I found a lump in my right breast after I felt some pain there. It diminished a couple of days later.  I put it out of my mind. A few months later the pain returned, the lump was still present. "I am only 38; I have no family history of breast cancer.  This cannot be cancer," I thought. I made an appointment to see my general practitioner. She too felt the lump, but continued to reassure me that with my lack of history, it was most likely a cyst, but scheduled a mammogram for me just be be certain. 

 

Three days later I dressed for work in my normal attire, including heals. I brought my laptop intending to work, as the nurse warned me this would likely involve a long time in waiting. I was brought back, changed, took my seat in the waiting room. After about twenty minutes I was called back. The mammogram went smoothly and I was sent back to the waiting room. From there things moved very quickly. 

 

Before I could get settled in my chair, another nurse came to get me got an ultrasound. She said that since I was nearing 40, it made sense to get a baseline ultrasound. We chatted as she got things set up and explained the process. Soon she found my lump, took out the tape measure and recorded measurements into the computer. She continued a few centimeters away, measured and recorded again, then continued to scan. Conversation halted as she scanned my armpit. Twice more she took and recorded measurements. I knew things were not good. Arm pit measurements equals more masses, which equals lymph node problems. The nurse left quickly and reassured me that it may be some time before someone would be back with results.  I didn't even get my laptop turned on before another person returned. She asked if I was there alone. My heart sank; nothing positive follows that question. She said that she was a social worker and wanted to discuss my results.  She led me into another room. There, I don't remember much of what she said.  I remember her indicating it was likely my masses were cancer, and that she was surprised by my reaction. You see, no one had yet even shared the results with me.  It hadn't even been an hour since I'd walked through the doors of the office. She said she wanted to get me in for a biopsy as soon as possible. The first opening wasn't for a week, but they were going to try to get a crew in to work Saturday to get me in.  The expediency was alarming. Another sign things were not good. I asked what the likelihood of my masses being cancer was. She said that I was deemed a level 5. Level 5 of 6 levels. She explained that a level 6 is confirmed cancer through biopsy and that they don't assign a level 5 unless they are quite confident. The tears flowed. I was terrified. I was unprepared. I was uneducated in the world of cancer. 

 

Two days later I was in for the Saturday biopsy.  The nurses prepared my husband and I for the next steps. On Tuesday, the results were in. Stage 2 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma of the right breast at 2 sites, with abnormal lymph nodes.  (The nodes came back inconclusive at this point.)  I was scheduled for the full day consult with a full team of doctors. 

 

Fast forward 3 weeks, 3 opinions, a multitude of tests and a downgrade in stage. Now the diagnosis is Stage 3, with a minimum of two affected nodes and one large spidery mass the size of a large egg.  Weeks later the genetics come back - BRCA2 positive. 

 

The treatment plan:

Step 1 (2 months and 4 treatments in round 1 of chemo)

 

This portion of chemo was completed with few bumps. Of course the normal side effects attacked my body: hair loss, fatigue, and low immunity.  We prepared our kids for the hair loss with a conversation followed by an initial shave. After the second treatment, my hair began to shed. At this point, my 5 year old daughter was proud of my bald head. I had no option but to embrace and help others I knew do the same. I didn't want my kids to see my fear or embarrassment.  My friends were apprehensive around me. They didn't know how to approach me or what to say. Keeping my sense of humor about my situation helped others to be more comfortable around me. 

 

 

Step 2 (4 months and 16 treatments in round 2 of chemo)

 

This round of chemo was tolerated just as well as the first. Fatigue, low immunity, neuropathy, and the loss of my fingernails plagued my body. It was during this time period that I met Amanda, Dave, and Steve. I was thrilled to learn after submitting my application and meeting with them that I had been selected to be crowned. 

 

The trials of cancer and chemo had begun to wear on my typically positive spirit. I was tired most days, have continued to work, albeit from home, but now was much less of a parent than I wanted to be. My 3 year old son was now more clingy and begging for his normally active mama. Both kids were also spending more time away from home to ensure I could continue to care for myself. Our world had been shaken. 

 

The day of the crowning came at a time when I needed a lift in my spirits. The day was magical. The team pampered me with makeup, henna and uplifting conversation. It was a vacation from reality.  It was the first time in months I felt beautiful. It was such a blessing to have all of those intimate moments captured on film by Dave. Being photographed not only froze the happiness in time, but also was an opportunity to reflect on who I am now, and who I want to be after cancer. 

 

I have always been an advocate for the students and families I've served, now my advocacy has shifted to include those affected by cancer. I wanted to be a bright light of hope to those that need it. I wanted to make cancer and all if it's ugliness less of a taboo that remains hidden behind closed doors, and instead be an opportunity to engage in dialogue that decreases fear, hopelessness, and stigma. 
 

Step 3 (bilateral mastectomy and nodal dissection)

 

My oncologist and surgeon were pleased with the outcome of chemo based on repeated physical exams.  Because of the BRCA2 genetic results a bilateral mastectomy was determined to be the safest option for reducing the likelihood of a recurrence or second cancer in the future. During the mastectomy (July 12) a sentinel node biopsy was completed. This revealed that chemo hadn't impacted my cancer laden nodes as much as everyone had hoped. As a result, a total of 22 nodes were removed. 

 

Following surgery, things were progressing as planned, until three weeks later, when I was hospitalized with a serious infection caused by a rare bacteria. Since then, it's been a waiting game for the one remaining drain to stop producing fluid enough to be removed. Until that time, radiation is on hold. 
 

Step 4 (5 weeks and 25 treatments of radiation)

 

Due to the pathology report coming out of surgery, the radiation oncologist has changed the plan to be more comprehensive.  We now expect to complete a minimum of 35 treatments over 7 weeks. Then assess at that point if more will be tolerated. 

Step 5 (Oophorectomy)

 

Due to recent research, there are some potential links between BRCA2 gene mutations and ovarian and a rare uterine cancer. As such, with consultation from 2 different gynecology oncology surgeons, we all agree to move forward with a complete Hysterectomy instead of of an Oophorectomy. 
 

Step 6 (hormone therapy to last 10 years)

 

My cancer is 95% estrogen and 5% progesterone fed. This means my own body and hormones feed my cancer. To prevent the likelihood of recurrence and future cancers, I have been put into medically induced menopause until the time that I can complete the Hysterectomy.  This allows me the opportunity to be on Aromatase Inhibitors and potentially participate in two separate trials that have the potential to improve my odds of living a cancer-free future. 

 

Step 7 (melanoma screening) 

Step 8 (colonoscopy)

 

Steps 7 and 8 are precautionary to ensure that the other cancers linked to the BRCA2 mutation can be monitored in hopes of catching other potential cancers early. 

 

Life is no guarantee for anyone.  I could be in an accident tomorrow. But, I have knowledge, courage, and tenacity now that will help my siblings, my children, and other cancer patients well into the future. We are already planning our family cancer-free party for next year!  Here's to a long, happy, and healthy future. 

 

As with the diagnosis, not all things go as planned.