On February 18th I turned 38, 6 days later I was
told I have stage 4 breast cancer. Wait….,WHAT???! Yeah, that’s exactly what I
thought, too. Let’s back up…
The week before my birthday I took a short vacation with
some friends. I had been traveling non-stop for work and needed a break. When I
got home I thought I was coming down with something. I was a little short of
breath and coughing here and there, but I did not feel sick. All I wanted for
my birthday was couch time.
When the symptoms continued but I was clearly not developing
a cold, I went to a Yoga class to “focus on my breath”. I thought the shortness
of breath must just be anxiety, but while the stretching felt good there was no
improvement in the breathing department.
I was scheduled to fly out again on Wednesday for work, but
after talking to my sister Elisabeth (nurse sister) I knew I needed to get
checked out prior to flying. She was concerned there may be a clot in my lung, which
could be a BIG problem at 35,000 feet. I had an appointment with my counselor at
the hospital the next day so I planned to see if she could get me in with
someone on short notice. By the time I met with her something was noticeably
wrong. I was having a really hard time breathing and major anxiety. I left the
appointment early and drove a few blocks to the ER to begin the stabbing and
probing to figure out what was wrong with me.
They did x-rays, a CT, blood work, etc. and determined there
was fluid all around my right lung; so basically I was only breathing with one
lung for the last few days. Great. The anxiety made a lot more sense now. I was
admitted to the hospital that evening. On Wednesday morning they removed the
fluid so it could be tested. I’ll spare you the details, but you’ll want to add
that to your list of things to avoid if humanly possible.
After sitting in the hospital and getting no information or
results for another 36 hours, I finally asked them to release me. I knew they
were concerned the cancer had spread and I couldn’t take them looking at me
with “sad/poor you, we know something but aren’t telling you faces” any longer.
If I had to sit, cry and wait, I wanted to be a home burying my face in my
cat’s fur (He really loves the personal space invasion).
The robotic call came Friday morning, February 24th.
I’m sure it was a Doctor on the other end of the line, but I’m guessing wire
and screws have long since replaced his insides. I don’t blame him, I’m sure
it’s an occupational hazard that comes with giving this type of news. He
suggested I move up my 6 month routine check-up scheduled for May 1st.
Seriously? I’m no doctor, but I think that went without saying.
I met with my oncologist the following week as well as a
pulmonary doctor for my lung situation. I also returned to the ER to drain the
fluid around my lung, again. The week after, they placed a semi-permanent
catheter so the fluid could be drained as needed without me having to go into
the ER every time. This was helpful, yet very painful and surreal to have a
hose coming out the side of my body 24/7. A nurse came to my apartment, daily
at first, to drain the fluid. God bless her.
Meanwhile, I got a PET scan, which showed the breast cancer
had come back and was now on my right lung and possibly a bone in my tailbone
area. The doctor explained that the cells found in the fluid were consistent
with the cells found in the original tumor removed in 2015 and were very high
in estrogen. What has proven true over and again, is that cancer is confusing,
at least to me anyway.
My oncologist gave me her care plan, so I got a second
opinion at the University of Chicago. The initial plan included 12 rounds of
Taxol Chemo (which I did in 2015), followed by a daily chemo pill, a hormone
suppression pill and, ideally, by having my ovaries removed surgically. I said
no. Initially. I just needed time to think and breathe. After my 2014 diagnosis
I panicked and rushed my decisions, understandably, but I knew I did not want
to take that approach again.
After researching and taking into consideration both doctor’s
opinions I decided I would do the daily chemo pill and the hormone suppressing
pill along with a monthly shot to shut down my ovaries until I could process
and research more. At that time I said no to the 12 rounds of Taxol. The
treatments I agreed to started in April.
Most of the decisions I have made regarding all things
cancer have been really hard. Grueling even. But within 24 hours of being
re-diagnosed there were 2 things I knew I 100% wanted to do:
1. Get my reconstruction implants removed from the double
mastectomy in 2015 (the major discomfort, complications, etc. over the past 2
years was no longer worth it),
2. Adopt a kitten (because baby animals make everything
better. It’s science).
March 12th A.W. Tozer came to live with Boo
Radley and me.
April 13th I had the removal surgery.
After a long process healing from surgery, the last couple
months have been better. With treatment, the fluid around the lung slowed to a
more “normal”/manageable amount after about 3-4 weeks. In early May the lung
doctor decided we could go ahead and remove the catheter he placed back in March,
and so far all is well. I never imagined being free of tubes coming out of my
body would be anywhere on my gratitude list, but it is now up near the top.
Currently, I’m feeling pretty well. They continue to monitor
my blood work monthly, as well as monthly shots and meeting with my oncologist.
The daily chemo pill makes my white count a bit low so I am not able to keep up
with my work travel schedule. Short-term disability and family and friends’ contributions
help so much. I have another PET scan scheduled for July 24th, so I
will know more when I meet with the doctor in early August.
Honestly, when I first heard the words “Stage 4” it FELT
like a death sentence—but I KNOW now that is not necessarily the case.
The last few months I have spent more time with my family,
friends and cats, which has been a gift. I am also working, via phone, with an
integrative doctor out of Memphis, TN, and he is very encouraging. I know there
are more difficult decisions to be made, but I will huff some essential oils
and cross that road when and if the time comes.
I believe that God is with me every step, through the good
days and the bad days, tears, anger, laugher, etc., and He loves me even more
than I love my cats (if that’s even possible…). The fact that He doesn’t
change, even though everything else feels like it has, somehow makes me feel
better and have more stability.
Thank you for reading this and for caring about me. I know
this isn’t the fun thing to read. Thank you for your prayers and/or thinking of
me.
xoxo
