When I first found the lump in my left breast, I was scared. It was about 6 months after having a complete hysterectomy. I showed it to my gynecologist, who reassured me it was probably nothing. It was small, round, and about the size of a pea. Since I didn’t have insurance, he decided to forego a mammogram for now and we would watch it. As long as it didn’t grow, I was fine. I continued to monitor it, and about a year and a half later, which was about a year after separating from my husband and a very stressful situation, my doctor decided it was time for a mammogram, an ultrasound, and possibly a biopsy, depending on the results of the first tests.
I left his office in tears. My emotions ran amok. I felt fear, anger, loneliness, even panic at times. Each time I felt scared, I prayed. I begged God to not let it be cancer. I prayed that I would not even need a biopsy. It was then, in the quiet of the night, as I lay against my tearstained pillow that I heard His voice loud and clear. “Trust me. I’m building your testimony.” I knew in that moment that I was going to need a biopsy and that it was going to be cancer. I also knew that I was going to be okay. My walk with God had come far enough in faith that I did trust Him. Instead of letting my mind run rampant with fear, I chose to look at all the positive things, and tried to figure out what God wanted me to learn on this new journey. I have overcome some pretty intense battles in my life, but this was going to a battle of epic proportions that would test me physically, mentally and spiritually. I also heard from God that I was supposed to be very open about this journey. I didn’t know why or how, or even for what use its was going to be, but I knew I had to share as I battled.
Things happened very fast. I had the mammogram and ultrasound, and about a week later had the biopsy. It was the day before Thanksgiving. Four days later I got the dreaded call telling me I tested positive for breast cancer. While I already kind of knew it was going to go that way, it was still a crushing blow that left me breathless. Invasive Mucinous Carcinoma. What does all that even mean?!
It’s hard to describe what it feels like to be told you have cancer. I think I felt shock more than anything else, and then fear. Resolve was the next emotion, because I knew I was about to fight the battle of my life, and I had to be ready. I had to be strong. I could not let fear stop me. My twin daughters were watching, and I knew I had to teach them the strength God gives us, even if we’re scared. The truth is, this was not my first battle with a form of carcinoma. A year prior, I had been diagnosed with Basal Cell Carcinoma, a form of skin cancer, on my nose. I had a Moh’s Procedure done, and while it was the most excruciating procedure I’ve ever endured, I had come away from it with no more cancer, and healed quite well. That was scary, but not nearly as terrifying as a breast cancer diagnosis. *Read skin cancer story here.*
You pray and pray and sometimes, God says “I’m building your testimony”. His word tells us that He takes what was meant for evil and uses it for good, for His glory. I have learned to trust that more than anything. Yes, bad things happen, but when we allow God to dictate things, and we listen to and obey what He calls us to do, then things have a way of working out. I didn’t want to be diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn’t know how I was going to deal with it, but I trusted that God would give me strength and He would help me through somehow. If God hadn’t told me to be so open about my story, I would have gone through it all a lot more alone than I felt at times. Instead, I had a huge group of friends who showed up in support of me and my newest battle. I cannot even find the words to acknowledge how much it helped and how grateful I am for their support. Some were supportive with meals for my daughters and me, some drove me to my appointments, sometimes someone would just come and visit with me while I was in bed feeling so sick, there were many who supported me from a distance with encouragement and love via facebook, and one friend, Jill, went to every single appointment with me and took notes that she later transcribed and gave me so I could remember what the doctors had said. There was so much information, it was often hard to retain any of it. The doctor appointments are a blur to me. I was shell shocked and scared and couldn’t remember anything they told me. Thank God for friends who were there for me, especially Jill.
The first thing they decided was a lumpectomy, to remove the cancerous lump, and the sentinel lymph node. The surgery was scheduled about 2 weeks after the diagnosis. On December 19, 2014, I went in for outpatient surgery. They removed the lump and got clean borders by removing enough tissue around the lump ensuring there was no more cancerous tissue. They also removed 2 lymph nodes. After testing, it was determined that it was Invasive Mucinous Carcinoma, stage 2a. Thankfully, although it was invasive and moving, it was moving very slowly and had not reached any lymph nodes. That’s what the letter “a” means in stage 2a. I recovered from the surgery and went back to work a week later.
It’s best to have at least a month to recover from the surgery before they do any radiation, so I didn’t start radiation until early February. My mom had driven out to Las Vegas to be here for the surgery. She stayed a month, and then drove home to New York. It meant the world to me that she did that. She and my daughters were such a help during my recovery from surgery.
Preparing for radiation was intimidating. There were CT scans to take measurements, and then tattoos to mark where the radiation needed to go. I shed a lot of tears throughout the process of preparation, but nothing prepared me for the actual radiation. Some people are not affected by it except for the burn, but for me, it was a horrible experience. It made me sick, dizzy, nauseous and fatigued. If I didn’t have a ride home, I needed to wait about an hour after treatment to feel strong enough to walk to my car without passing out. Then I’d sit in my car for another 10-20 minutes before I felt I could safely drive home. Thankfully, there were friends to drive me in a pinch or when I felt extra sick after treatment. My daughters were my biggest cheerleaders. They’d come to appointments with me sometimes, and they faithfully did all their homeschool work while I was either at work, treatment, or in bed. Their strength helped me stay strong. Most days, as soon as I got home, I’d go right to bed. The only time I actually felt pretty good was from Sunday afternoon until Monday afternoon. I had radiation Monday through Friday for 7 and 1/2 weeks. I got up at 5:30am, got to work by 7am, left work at 2pm for radiation at 2:15, then went right home and back to bed. I was too sick to go to synagogue on Friday evenings, and sometimes had to skip Saturdays, too. I was exhausted and in pain.
Once the burn came in, at about the 3 week point, I could no longer tolerate clothing. The first thing I did every day when I got home was take off my top and my daughters quickly got used to seeing me topless whenever I was at home. I am not going to lie. That radiation burn was probably the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. It was worse than being in labor with twins. There were days I couldn’t function because the burn was searing and nothing calmed it. I couldn’t handle having clothes touch it, and between that and the dizziness I felt, there were days I couldn’t even go to work, because I just had to lie down all day. I constantly kept lotion (my own homemade lotion) on my burn, and along with an ice pack (as much as I could tolerate, anyway), it helped heal my skin. My oncologist told me my skin looked great, and wanted to know what I was using on it. I told him about my lotion, and he asked for the ingredients. I shared with him and his nurse, and his nurse wanted me to give her some, and he told me to use it instead of the prescription he was going to write for me, because it was working better!
Toward the end of my radiation, my manager at work insisted I take every Wednesday off so I could have one day in the middle of the week to rest. He even donated paid time off hours for me so I wouldn’t have to worry about missing work. Thankfully, many of my coworkers had donated hours to me, so I never missed one penny of pay while going through treatment. I am so blessed!
It is now 2.5 years since treatment, and I’m happy to say I remain cancer free and my skin has healed beautifully, in spite of how bad the burn got and despite all the scars from surgery. There is still a bit of discoloring, almost like I have a permanent tan, but I wear my scars with pride, because they are a reminder of strength, courage, and the fact that I am alive. I shall always celebrate life!
As the burn intensified, it wrapped around my chest, under my arm, and into my back. It was also swollen.
At this point, my oncologist was telling me it looked good. I guess because it wasn’t a giant blister, thanks to my homemade lotion.
Attitude is everything when fighting cancer. Most days I forced a smile despite the raw, searing pain I was in.
But there were some days I simply could not smile.
My strong and courageous daughters, my biggest cheerleaders, who kept me going every day.
2 years later, all that remain are a slight tan and a couple scars.
