Hello again, it’s been a long time. I guess now is the time to open up.
Trigger warning: Cancer
That was me and my (now) husband on July 19th of last year. That was the day that changed the course of the rest of my life. I had an appointment for a breast exam. During that exam, I was given a script to get an ultrasound and a mammogram. I knew what was coming, but everyone tried to stay positive.
On July 27, I went for my scans, and the ultrasound was first. The wand got to the problem area, and I saw it – a black hole in a sea of white static. I laid there and cried, and the technician took my hand. After was the mammogram, which had to be done multiple times because I couldn’t stop shaking. I was then brought into a room and the nurse grabbed my mother and husband. When we were all in there, the doctor told us that I had an invasive ductal carcinoma, and that I needed to go for a biopsy to confirm their findings.
Through the rest of July and August, we ran from one appointment to another – scans, bloodwork, biopsies, the whole nine yards. The only days I really had off were the weekends, and August 17th and 18th for our wedding.
That was us on our wedding day. We eloped at a hotel. The day before, I had the biopsy for my lymph nodes, so I had a maxi pad in my armpit so I wouldn’t ruin my dress and to keep the incision site safe. The wedding was wonderful, and something I have continued to hold onto through all of this.
The 19th was back to my new norm of appointments. The last appointment I had was September 5th for an echocardiogram. After that appointment I had a few days off, during which time I was told that I had Stage 3b (it had spread to my lymph nodes, skin, and muscle wall), and that it was estrogen and progesterone positive, HER2 negative.
On September 9th at 8am, I arrived at the hospital to get my port placement and to start chemo. I was on the ACT treatment – 4 rounds of AC (charmingly referred to as the Red Devil) and 12 rounds of taxol. I also started getting my lupron shot, which pretty much sends me into menopause.
The AC was absolutely brutal on my body, and I lost all of my hair by the time my second appointment came around, and everything had the worst taste. I did, however, end up gaining weight from the steroids they put me on.
I pushed through all 16 rounds, and got to ring the bell. It was hard and awful, and I felt like shit, but I made it through chemo. I even earned myself a month off before my surgery (with a handful of scans and appointments here and there).
On February 28 at 9am, I had my double mastectomy, where the removed both my breasts and 14 lymph nodes on the left side. I went home that night with 3 drains. Thankfully, I don’t remember much from that day after they wheeled me into the surgical theater.
The following weeks were painful – dealing with the drains 3 times a day, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in (which was near impossible), and only sleeping when I was truly exhausted because the pain kept me up… but like the chemo, I got through this, too.
In April, I had my first consultation for radiation (because the chemo and surgery weren’t enough). Unfortunately, I was struggling to lift my left arm so I had to do physical therapy. Fast forward to June, I was finally able to lift my arm and could get fitted for a mold. Two weeks after that (I believe it was June 12th), I started radiation, which was every day for 5 weeks.
Now, we’re in November. I still get my lupron shot, and I take Verzenio (2 years) and arimidex (10 years). I also found out that as a parting gift from my treatment, I have osteopenia so I take calcium and vitamin D3, too.
I guess the biggest question is, “Why am I just now really talking about this?” Someone very dear, who I loved more than life to me has passed away and he didn’t know I was sick. He didn’t need to know, he didn’t need to worry – he needed to believe that I was okay, and that was one of the main things that pushed me to get through treatment. I needed to be okay for him. Every call with him would end with, “Please take care of yourself, baby,” to which I would respond, “I will if you will, Pop-pop.”
The past few years have been awful, I didn’t even touch upon half of what has transpired, but I keep taking care of myself, I keep striving for okay, because that’s what he would have wanted.
I also wanted to share this part of my story so others take care of themselves. If something doesn’t feel right, if something seems off, go to the doctor… go to 20 doctors, and keep going until someone listens. Advocate for yourself, and listen to your body. I felt off for a long time, and I still do most days, but now I’m on the radar of several doctors and they know about every little thing that’s going on now.
I truly love and care about all of you. Keep kicking ass, and I’ll see you soon.
The Change 