In November of 2005, I was lying on my back bouncing my youngest son up and down, when he kicked me. Well, it felt like a kick – but it was more like a nudge. The toe of his little boot caught me in the lower left side of my left breast. Boy, was it painful! I felt the area, but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, and the pain went away after a few minutes, so I dismissed it. I didn’t think of it again. Until February 2006, that is.
My (amazing, awesome, wonderful) husband and I decided to try for a third child. In the beginning of February, I found out I was pregnant. A week or so later, my son (Ian, the same one as before), kicked me again! Just like in November, I was lying on my back on the floor bouncing him up and down. As soon as he touched me, the pain was there. But it was different this time. There was a lump. Instantly, the drama queen buried deep inside me rose to the surface. “Oh, no!” “A lump!” “It must be cancer!” “Ahhhhh!” (Ok, my friends claim she’s not buried so deep…) I gained control over her and shoved her back to her quiet place and took stock of the situation. I had an OB appointment in a couple of days, so I would just let my doctor know about it then.
For the first few months, we played the “watch and wait” game. “It’s just due to changes in your breasts because you’re pregnant.” Ok. But it got bigger. And bigger. So I was sent for an ultrasound – on a Friday. Good grief! It’s bad enough waiting for test results, but having to wait through a weekend? At least the tech that did the ultrasound said that it didn’t look bad to her and I shouldn’t let it worry me. She was right – the result was benign! Yippie! My inner drama queen remained locked away.
But then another thing happened. I started having a bloody discharge. I wasn’t worried though – I was pregnant and I had been working hard on our yard. It was probably just from lugging 22-pound landscaping bricks around. (Yes. That’s me. Not much puts a damper on things I have to do. I was pretty strong, so it really wasn’t as tough as it seemed.) So, I mentioned this change at my next OB appointment. Just to be on the “safe side,” they sent me for a biopsy. At this point, my inner drama queen was still resting comfortably in her locked, padded room down deep inside, not running around like a mad woman. After that first dramatic moment when I found the lump, I really didn’t even consider the chance that I had cancer.
Soon after, I had a needle core biopsy. My surgeon took several samples and sent them in. Still, the drama queen was kept at bay. I went back for my next OB appointment a week or two later and decided to pop in on the surgeon’s office to see if my results were in (my OB and surgeon are in the same hallway in the same medical building). Sure enough, they were in. I told them I would stop back over after my OB appointment. I told my OB nurse that my results were in and I was going to get them after my checkup. Did I mention that my OB nurse is my aunt? She told me she wanted to hear the results as soon as possible so we could get this behind us.
I walked back over to the surgeon’s office and they put me in a room right away. The nurse, who was also pregnant, chit-chatted a minute with me about my pregnancy and the fact that my aunt was next door. I didn’t think much of it. She even brought my two sons (3 and 1, at the time) coloring books and crayons to play with while we waited for the doctor. A few minutes later, my surgeon came in. She told me that the first couple of samples were as she expected, but the last one wasn’t. I think that’s all I really heard. My aunt was ushered into the room as soon as that was said. Here I was, pregnant, with two little boys with me, when I got the news. I hadn’t even brought my husband, because I just had given no thought that it could be anything but good news. Thankfully, my aunt heard the rest. I was like a deer in headlights. My face had even gone numb!
What came after that was terror. I was the one put in my inner quiet place, while my drama queen took over. (And, really, righteously so.) Oh, my God! I told my husband about it on the phone while I was sitting in my truck after the appointment. And I couldn’t think. I could function, but everything was a haze in my mind. Only question after question floating around – chasing after invisible answers. Answers that wouldn’t be available for months. That’s really where the terror comes in. That fear of the unknown. And when the unknown can lead to death, the fear becomes terror.
I lived day to day. Learning more about this disease every moment. Waiting. Waiting. And more waiting. I had an excisional biopsy after the needle biopsy, so they could get a handle on just what I had and how much. I was 22 weeks pregnant then. So I couldn’t be put under full anesthesia. I had “conscious sedation.” I do remember quite a bit about the surgery. I know I talked through it (not surprising to my husband and family!). I did ask to watch, but I heard about 5 voices give a resounding, “NO!” I kept asking questions, and my surgeon would try to answer me, but the anesthesiologist would just shake his head and tell her I was out, again.
Two days later, I left for a Canadian vacation for a week - before I had any results from the surgery. Every day, my husband and I would leave the cabin and drive into town to call the doctor (there were no phones or cell coverage where we were). An hour after leaving the cabin we would get back - with no more information that when we left. Every day I wanted to throw up on the trip. Every day it felt like there was a bowling ball sitting in my stomach, weighing me down and making me sick to my stomach. That whole week went by, with no results. I still didn't know what kind of cancer or how much there was. I still didn't know what stage I was at. Unbeknownst to them, Rodney Atkins and Pat Green helped me through that week. Every trip into town, we would listen to "If You're Going Through Hell," by Rodney and "Wave on Wave" by Pat. Change the "she" to "he" and "Wave on Wave" tells me the story of God being there for me. And he was! He's "the reason I'm still here," and "I'm the one [he] was sent to save." I fel that he had sent me these two songs to let me know I would make it. I turned to those songs many, many times over the past few years....
After the "vacation," I found out that I had two types of cancer – Ductal Carcinoma In Situ and Invasive Breast Cancer. I got a second opinion and became the patient of an oncologist that had experience dealing with pregnant cancer patients. Finally, after 6 months of fear, I was really diagnosed: Stage I, Triple Negative cancer. My entire left breast was filled with DCIS, but the Invasive component was very small, thankfully. Another wonderful surgeon performed my mastectomy. I was a full six months along at that point, so I did have “normal” surgery, as it was deemed not a risk to my baby. I could not have reconstruction at the same time, though, as that surgery would have been too long, and even though I was just Stage I, my cancer was very aggressive, so they wanted me to be “clean” for a year before I underwent that phase of the journey. Finally, terror settled down into “just” fear and Ms. Drama Queen took a break from all that running around, wringing of the hands and gnashing of the teeth (which really sounds nasty, if you ask me – and painful…wouldn’t it hurt to scrunch your teeth together? But I digress…)
I recovered well from the surgery. I was able to go full term and give birth to a beautiful baby girl in late October, 2006. I was even allowed to nurse her for one month before undergoing more tests and starting my chemotherapy. I did need one more surgery, as the margins around the cancer that was removed were very small, but that went well, also. I did loose my hair from the chemo, too. But I got a very lovely pink wig, which had black bangs and purple streaks through it! (My husband was none too pleased, but I didn’t wear it to church, so he didn’t complain too much.)
The year 2006 was hell. I lost two grandmothers and my left breast. But I got my little girl! At least 2007 got better. I “only” lost two dogs (to CANCER) and had another surgery and went through chemo. Yes – we have had three instances of cancer in our home. And I have NO family history, I am not overweight, I don’t smoke, I drink alcohol only here and there. I am otherwise very healthy. And the dogs were two different breeds and were not overweight. I never caught them smoking or stealing from the liquor cabinet, either! And our water has been tested. So we’re at a loss on this issue.
I am normally a very happy person. I was able to stay that way throughout almost all of my diagnosis, treatment, surgeries, etc. My wonderful foundation of faith, family and friends helped me stay upbeat. Even my inner drama queen never believed I would die. She wrung her hands and was scared and teary-eyed, but the other, stronger, half of me wouldn't let her take over. I liken that part of me to Maxine, from Hallmark, and can just hear her telling me, "Ah, just get over it, for crying out loud! This is just a bump on the road of life! You've gone through nothing compared to most women with breast cancer!”
Today, I am happy and healthy and thank God everyday for having such an incredible support system of wonderful family and friends. My little girl is also healthy and happy. She is such a happy child, in fact, that I usually say that it must be the anesthesia that hasn’t worn off, yet!
