Isn't it interesting...
I ask myself sometimes how I got to where I am and where do I want to go from here. I've always wanted children and thought that someday I would have some of my own. A stage 4 breast cancer diagnosis changes that. The medications I take are proven to harm a developing child. If I went off the medications, the cancer would kill me with the increase of hormones of being pregnant. People say to me, well atleast you can adopt! Actually, I've looked into that option and it would be more difficult than some might think. You see, a stage 4 diagnosis means that life expectancy is not favorable past 5 years. In my case I think life expectancy is favorable, but the "red tape" if you will does not discriminate. U.S. adoption agencies will not allow stage 4-er's to adopt, which actually is in line with many other countries such as China, Guatemala, etc. Unfortunately, surrogacy laws are similar. MAYBE someday if I'm really looking into it and found a private surrogate of my own, it would be allowed.
You see, the biggest disapointment is that I feel as though I have so much to give and I'd be good at it. This is one reason I'm moving back to Pa. I want to be a bigger part of my nephew's life and have a positive influence on him. This is also a reason I'm passionate about my dogs because to me...they may be the only children I ever have.
Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky and fortunate. There are ladies out there that have a very poor prognosis and medicine hasn't caught up to their type of breast cancer just yet. I'm lucky that I have years ahead of me to make a difference. Heck, I might someday take a leap and foster children, but lets get through this move first!
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Monday, January 18, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
You have Cancer: the first time...
No one is prepared to hear those words. Cancer, it sneaks up on you out of nowhere, no side effects, not feeling ill, nothing...not until things are really, really bad anyhow. I've heard those words uttered twice in my life and both times took me by surprise and when you think of being told something of such importance...you don't envision it to be like it was told to me.
The first time:
I was 25 and had just gone to my regularly scheduled gynocological exam in January. My doctor felt a lump in my left breast at the 9 o'clock position. It was about 2 cm in size, but it's not like my breasts ever felt like pudding, they are lumpy in general. The doctor asked me how long that lump had been there and I shrugged it off like it was nothing and replied, "I think about July??" She said it would be best to have an ultrasound done in the event that it's cancer eventhough it's probably just a fibroadenoma, which is a more common benign tumor. This statement scared the crap out of me and I remember calling my mother and crying to her telling her what the doctor said to me. My mom reassured me and said the doctor is just taking precautions and she stated how fibrous breasts ran in our family and well, we have no history of breast cancer in our family.
There was no hurry for the ultrasound because it wasn't cancer, right? The radiology place got me an appointment in a month. I went in for this appointment to have an ultrasound done and there was definitly a mass there. They wanted a better picture of it, so they took a mammogram of it. That just confirmed that there was a tumor there, but it was still believed based on my age and family history lacking breast cancer that it was a benign tumor. The location of the tumor was also indicative that it was not cancerous. This is not how breast cancer typically presents itself. We decide to see a surgeon and have a biopsy done just to confirm.
Again, it's most likely benign, so no hurry to get in to see the surgeon. It's not me that is waiting, it's the medical offices that wave it off as if it's not important. It's another month before the surgeon can have a consultation with me, so the middle of february and I meet with him. He gives me my options and I decide that since it's most likely benign based on the information all the medical personnel have given me to do an ultrasound guided needle biopsy of the tumor. The surgery is scheduled in 2 weeks.
I go in for the surgery (if you can even call it that). They give me just local anesthetic and I get to watch the ultrasound on the screen, coolness! I walk out of there myself with only two tiny holes in my breast. The surgeon again states that the tissue he has removed looks like that of a benign tumor. Seriously, it looks like I was bitten by a vampire. No follow up consultation is scheduled...afterall, it's benign, right?
3 weeks pass by because at the lab, there are usually two pathologists, but one was on vacation. The process on a cancer diagnosis is that when one pathologist finds it a positive diagnosis that it goes in the pile of cases for the other pathologist to look at and confirm. And so it was found, two independent opinions that indeed the sample was invasive ductal carcinoma. My surgeon gets the word and must pass this data on to me, quickly.
He contacts me at work, where I'm a dental hygienist and I see patients all day long. All I remember from that conversation was the word cancer and come in thursday to discuss options. I hung up the phone and started crying and my coworkers gathered and hugged me. I told them what I THOUGHT I heard, but was I sure? Maybe he said Precancerous. I was unsure. I found out 2 days later that it was indeed cancer and surgery was to take place in 2 weeks and within those 2 weeks I met a counselor, a medical oncologist (Dr. Lee), and a radiation oncologist (Dr. Cheston). What a whirlwind.
The first time:
I was 25 and had just gone to my regularly scheduled gynocological exam in January. My doctor felt a lump in my left breast at the 9 o'clock position. It was about 2 cm in size, but it's not like my breasts ever felt like pudding, they are lumpy in general. The doctor asked me how long that lump had been there and I shrugged it off like it was nothing and replied, "I think about July??" She said it would be best to have an ultrasound done in the event that it's cancer eventhough it's probably just a fibroadenoma, which is a more common benign tumor. This statement scared the crap out of me and I remember calling my mother and crying to her telling her what the doctor said to me. My mom reassured me and said the doctor is just taking precautions and she stated how fibrous breasts ran in our family and well, we have no history of breast cancer in our family.
There was no hurry for the ultrasound because it wasn't cancer, right? The radiology place got me an appointment in a month. I went in for this appointment to have an ultrasound done and there was definitly a mass there. They wanted a better picture of it, so they took a mammogram of it. That just confirmed that there was a tumor there, but it was still believed based on my age and family history lacking breast cancer that it was a benign tumor. The location of the tumor was also indicative that it was not cancerous. This is not how breast cancer typically presents itself. We decide to see a surgeon and have a biopsy done just to confirm.
Again, it's most likely benign, so no hurry to get in to see the surgeon. It's not me that is waiting, it's the medical offices that wave it off as if it's not important. It's another month before the surgeon can have a consultation with me, so the middle of february and I meet with him. He gives me my options and I decide that since it's most likely benign based on the information all the medical personnel have given me to do an ultrasound guided needle biopsy of the tumor. The surgery is scheduled in 2 weeks.
I go in for the surgery (if you can even call it that). They give me just local anesthetic and I get to watch the ultrasound on the screen, coolness! I walk out of there myself with only two tiny holes in my breast. The surgeon again states that the tissue he has removed looks like that of a benign tumor. Seriously, it looks like I was bitten by a vampire. No follow up consultation is scheduled...afterall, it's benign, right?
3 weeks pass by because at the lab, there are usually two pathologists, but one was on vacation. The process on a cancer diagnosis is that when one pathologist finds it a positive diagnosis that it goes in the pile of cases for the other pathologist to look at and confirm. And so it was found, two independent opinions that indeed the sample was invasive ductal carcinoma. My surgeon gets the word and must pass this data on to me, quickly.
He contacts me at work, where I'm a dental hygienist and I see patients all day long. All I remember from that conversation was the word cancer and come in thursday to discuss options. I hung up the phone and started crying and my coworkers gathered and hugged me. I told them what I THOUGHT I heard, but was I sure? Maybe he said Precancerous. I was unsure. I found out 2 days later that it was indeed cancer and surgery was to take place in 2 weeks and within those 2 weeks I met a counselor, a medical oncologist (Dr. Lee), and a radiation oncologist (Dr. Cheston). What a whirlwind.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Benjamin Patrick
That would be my nephew. It's quite refreshing to see things again through a child's eyes. Christmas eve my brother, nephew, and I had to quickly made a trip to another home to collect a gift my brother had delivered there for his girlfriend. It was rather serious business, right? Benjamin didn't think so. As my brother and I are deep in conversation in the front seats catching up while we are alone Benjamin Boasts from the rear, "AUNT JEN, LIGHTS" pointing at the Christmas lights hung with care on the homes. I even LOVE looking at lights, but was actually not paying attention to them since I was talking with my brother. It reminds us to take a step back and look at all of life's little pleasures.
This kid, he's a trip I tell you. On Christmas, I caught video footage of him sampling all the candies on the gingerbread train cake. Sampling I say because if he didn't like it, he put it back. All the while he's drooling and the drool was falling into the dish of cookies sitting in front of him.
When I'm at home in Maryland and he's home in Pennsylvania my brother kindly tells me Benjamin asks for me, but he doesn't. He actually says, "Where shadow" my 12 year old flat coat retriever. It's ok though, Shadow is memorable, loveable, and gentle. He deserves the love of a 2.5 year old.
Benjamin is probably the BIGGEST reason I'm considering moving back to Pa. I want to be in his life, I have so much love to give. I'm 30 now and at one time thought I might have a family of my own, however, after this years diagnosis of Stage 4 Breast Cancer, that proves to be much more difficult a feat (sp?) than originally believed.
This kid, he's a trip I tell you. On Christmas, I caught video footage of him sampling all the candies on the gingerbread train cake. Sampling I say because if he didn't like it, he put it back. All the while he's drooling and the drool was falling into the dish of cookies sitting in front of him.
When I'm at home in Maryland and he's home in Pennsylvania my brother kindly tells me Benjamin asks for me, but he doesn't. He actually says, "Where shadow" my 12 year old flat coat retriever. It's ok though, Shadow is memorable, loveable, and gentle. He deserves the love of a 2.5 year old.
Benjamin is probably the BIGGEST reason I'm considering moving back to Pa. I want to be in his life, I have so much love to give. I'm 30 now and at one time thought I might have a family of my own, however, after this years diagnosis of Stage 4 Breast Cancer, that proves to be much more difficult a feat (sp?) than originally believed.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
A beautiful life
That's what "La Bella Vita" means, but it's much more romantic sounding in Italian.
You know, i have thought quite a bit this year about writing a book about my life. It's been quite a life thus far. I turn 30 years old tommorrow and while these past 30 years have been challenging and rewarding, I look forward to what the next 30 years offer.
I'm a breast cancer survivor, dog lover extraordinaire , a family kind of girl, appreciate of the little things, knows there is no time like the present, a carousel operator, a loving sister and aunt, daughter, a lover, a hater, and all things in between...
This is my life, my story.
You know, i have thought quite a bit this year about writing a book about my life. It's been quite a life thus far. I turn 30 years old tommorrow and while these past 30 years have been challenging and rewarding, I look forward to what the next 30 years offer.
I'm a breast cancer survivor, dog lover extraordinaire , a family kind of girl, appreciate of the little things, knows there is no time like the present, a carousel operator, a loving sister and aunt, daughter, a lover, a hater, and all things in between...
This is my life, my story.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Battle
As most of you know, I'm a two time breast cancer survivor. The first epidose was 4.5 years ago at stage 1...and the second after diligently following all recommendations with mammograms and MRI's of the breast alternating every 6 months and having blood drawn every three to 6 months occured this past April as Stage 4 that had migrated to my lungs, lymph nodes, and spine.
Well, last week I recieved word with my recent CT scan with contrast that the image looked like any would of a "normal person" Sure there were some nodules on the lungs and liver, albeit small, but I was reassured that would be the case on anyone's scan.
So yesterday I go in to see the Neurosurgeon to discuss fixing the two vertebrae that have been causing me extreme pain since the beginning in April. Well, he states that he's not comfortable with these "nodules" and not knowing if they are metastatic or not and wants a PET SCAN that uses radioactive material that is drawn to the cells with high metabolic activity to them. I'm just sad and disappointed. I was thinking I was in complete remission...out of the woods for now! Then this doubt creeps in AND another wait on getting the fractured vertebrae fixed. It surely is not the end of the world, but it still sucks!
Well, last week I recieved word with my recent CT scan with contrast that the image looked like any would of a "normal person" Sure there were some nodules on the lungs and liver, albeit small, but I was reassured that would be the case on anyone's scan.
So yesterday I go in to see the Neurosurgeon to discuss fixing the two vertebrae that have been causing me extreme pain since the beginning in April. Well, he states that he's not comfortable with these "nodules" and not knowing if they are metastatic or not and wants a PET SCAN that uses radioactive material that is drawn to the cells with high metabolic activity to them. I'm just sad and disappointed. I was thinking I was in complete remission...out of the woods for now! Then this doubt creeps in AND another wait on getting the fractured vertebrae fixed. It surely is not the end of the world, but it still sucks!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)