November 6th, 2023
“I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have cancer.” The phrase that no one ever wants to hear. Instantly I feel numb. The phone call is quick and to the point. It is Ductal Carcinoma in Sita (DCIS) and it was caught early, thankfully because I have been getting annual mammograms for the past 4 years. Referrals are being sent over to an oncologist and I am told they will answer all my questions. I looked up to Jason and told him softly, "it's cancer." I think we are both dumbstruck and in shock. There are hugs, tears and numbness. From here on out, November 3rd will be a day I will always remember.
It's unfair. When someone gives you that news, they should have as much information for you as possible. In the meantime, we are stuck waiting for an appointment with the oncologist. It takes weeks, so I'm stuck in Google hell, going deep into rabbit holes that do nothing to ease my mind. I have no symptoms, and, as I said, it was caught early, but there is still a lot of unease. My cancer is apparently fed by my hormones that my body is still producing, so that means it can grow quickly. Scary stuff for sure.
My first phone call is to my grandma. My grandmother was just a little younger than I am now when she underwent breast cancer treatment of her own. I need to hear her voice. I need to hear her tell me that it will all be ok, no matter what decision I make. I need her to pray for me, and of course, she does all of these things. Next, I tell my parents. I go through the same conversations with them. I think that I reassured them more than the other way around. Not because they weren’t reassuring, but because I have always been the caretaker, and I need them to know and believe that I will be ok. It was caught incredibly early, which I am grateful for.
I decide to wait to tell my boys because I don't have any answers to the questions I know they are going to have. We wait to tell the rest of the family because I honestly can't trust that someone isn't going to slip up and say something before the kids know. I would hate for them to find out because someone innocently slips up.
Ryan has a grueling orientation coming up for the fire academy. I can't tell him before that, it will stress him out. I don't want to tell them before we go see my uncle, who's dying of cancer, because I'm afraid they will think the same is going to happen. There is never a good time to tell someone that you have cancer, but I know I can't keep dragging it out, so we sit them down after dinner one night. They held themselves together better than I expected. My boys are tough cookies and they love their momma. I raised them to always protect the queen and I know that they are going to always be there to do that. Our family deals with stress by interjecting humor, and as expected, there is some of that as well.
November 21st, 2023
Finally, after a couple weeks, we tell the rest of our family and close friends. I tell my employees and finally, my board of directors. Just thinking of the instant compassion, love and support brings tears to my eyes. It truly takes a village and that's not just for raising kids. It's for getting through life.
Weeks go by with various meetings with both the oncologist and a breast reconstruction surgeon. Both doctors put me at ease right away and seem incredibly competent, which is reassuring and absolutely amazing to find in our community. Dr. Malotky was actually the first person to address how this not only affects me, but also Jason, which was something that we did not realize we needed to hear.
That is one thing that you don’t see or hear when you google breast cancer. Or probably any cancer or severe medical condition. Websites will talk about the medical aspect of what you are going through, and some will talk about the personal support that you, the patient, will need. But it is so hard to find one that addresses how your family will feel. Cancer does not just touch the person with it, and it is so important to check in on the loved ones too. They too, are on this unwanted, life-changing journey with you, and their feelings need to be recognized and validated as well.
That’s the other thing. There is no handbook on how to feel and process this type of thing. Some days there will be jokes about how big to rebuild my breasts. Other days will feel completely normal, especially because I physically feel fine. But other days, anything and everything can set you off into tears. And that is ALL OK. Scream. Cry. Laugh. Go for a run or cuddle with your kids. Whatever you need to feel in each moment, embrace it and know that it is part of the process. And don’t ever let someone tell you how you should be dealing with cancer. If they aren’t in your shoes, they don’t get to tell you how to wear them.
I end up talking with other women who have gone through similar situations. If there is anything that I can take away from this entire experience is to always be your best advocate. Do your own research. Talk with others who have similar experiences. Listen and talk with your spouse. But at the end of the day, you have to make the decision that works best for you.
December 11th, 2023
As far as choices go, I had a couple of options. Since the cancer was only confirmed in my left breast (even though there were similar microcalcifications in my right breast), I had the option of a lumpectomy, followed by 6 weeks of radiation (5 days a week), plus hormone suppressors for at least 5 years OR I could have a double mastectomy with breast reconstruction, which would eliminate the need for radiation and hormone suppressors. I went back and forth. Both options had the same rate of risk of recurrence. However, the first option was only for the left breast. It did nothing for the right breast, except the hormone suppressors were supposed to suppress the growth of any cancer anywhere else in my breasts. But that would only last while I was on the hormone suppressors.
In the end, I decided to opt for a double mastectomy. This is an incredibly hard decision, but one that I feel is the best one for me. As a strong woman, the thought of not having my breasts (which I think are pretty amazing until they failed me by getting freaking cancer) is incredibly hard. But medicine has come a long way, and I have the utmost faith in my doctors to build incredible, cancer free breasts. Everytime I think of “building” new breasts, I think of that song "Build a Bitch” - however, as Jason pointed out, we are just building breasts and not changing my attitude. LOL.
“Ooooh, you are getting a boob job out of this.” Like hell I am. First of all, I never asked for this, this is not elective surgery. But also, no one thinks about what is being cut out of you. Not only your breast tissue, but your nerves, blood vessels - everything. Hopefully I will be able to regain some feeling in my breasts, but it is not guaranteed at all. But hey, at least they are taking out the cancer and essentially taking away all the risk of it recurring.
January 18th, 2023
Today I finally got my surgery date. February 13th. Less than a month away. Feelings are all over the place. I am happy to finally have a date. I feel sad that I am losing a part of me that has been with me my entire life. I am scared. Jason is at work and I want to give him a hug right now. But I know that everything will be ok. Because that is how I try to look at everything - with a glass half full lens.
I have always tried to look at the silver linings in life. I am a very positive person by nature. Even through some of my toughest moments in life (and there have been many), I always try to remember that I am strong and resilient, and can get through anything, especially with my family by my side. I started writing this experience down, at first for just me. But then someone close to me reminded me that I have a voice and that perhaps I should share my journey with others. Not only to remind other women of the importance of getting your annual check ups, but also for others going through this journey. You are not alone. You can and will get through this, just as I know that I will.
