I continued to pray hard. I continued to thank God for all the awesome people in my life. I’m finding comfort in ‘talking’ to him as I drive to and from work-when I’m alone with my thoughts. But, I’m still skeptical. Will God actually help me through this?
It was Thursday night, the night after the football game. By this time, I only had a couple decent nights of sleep. I honestly dreaded nighttime because that’s when the negative thoughts consumed me. I laid in bed and listen to Wayne sleep. I remember being super thankful that he was able to sleep. Up to this point, I just couldn’t fall asleep at night. I couldn’t shut my brain off. But, that night, I had bad dreams. I dreamt that we were at my first doctors’ appointments, and my Oncologist came into the room and told us that he was sorry, but there is nothing they could do for me. Basically, he gave me a death sentence. I woke up crying and fell back to sleep, only to have the same dream for the second time that night. This time I woke up in tears and then stayed awake. I didn’t dare go back to sleep. I got out of bed and put on my fluffy pink robe. I paced around the house until I decided to just put my workout clothes on and sweat the fear and anxiety out of me.
I prayed harder that morning on my way to work. I got to work that morning and I could not get those dreams out of my head. I was a mess. I sat at my desk and cried on and off, trying to focus on the stack of work I needed to get done. Then, at 8:29 a.m., I got a text message from my friend, Jess, “Hey, just thinkin about ya. I hope you have a great day!”
‘Ha!’ I thought to myself. That was good timing. Then, at 8:43 a.m., my sister-in-law Mariah sent me a text, “How ya doing, mama? I feel like I haven’t checked in with you for a while. You’ve been on my mind though.”
Again, I sat there and thought, ‘Coincidence? I don’t know. How did they know that I needed those messages so badly that morning…in that moment?’ But, I felt better. I was able to pull myself together and somewhat focus on my work.
The next week was finally here. It seemed like I waited so long for this week of appointments. I woke up Monday morning feeling very scared and nervous. This was the week I would get answers. This is the week I would get a plan in place. But, this is also the week I had nightmares about. “What if those dreams were preparing me for what was actually to come?” I didn’t sleep that night-I know, this is becoming a theme. I posed this image on Facebook that Monday morning. I tried so hard to believe this. To pray this. To feel this.
The next day was my genetic counseling appointment. Thankfully, I was able to do this appointment virtually at the Willmar Cancer Center. I remember pulling up to the parking spot with the sign that read, “Willmar Regional Cancer Center Parking.” For the first time, things seemed somewhat real. I sat in my car and stared at that sign. I have seen these signs every time I have been in the hospital parking lot. But that’s it. I saw them. I didn’t pay much attention to them. But now, those were my parking spots. I got out of the car and walked to the entrance. Wayne was there waiting for me. I took a deep breath, and walked in. The ladies at the front desk were awesome. They were smiling. They were happy. They made me feel comfortable. But then, I turned to look at the other patients waiting in the waiting room. “I don’t belong here”, I thought to myself. The people I saw were old. Like, way older than me. They were fragile. Some didn’t have hair. They looked at me with that look of, “Oh you poor girl.” I sat with my back towards the rest of the individuals in the waiting room and I was instantly mad. However, this time, I wasn’t mad at God. I was just mad. I was mad because I was sitting in that waiting room. I was mad because I was now one of them. I kept saying to myself, “This isn’t fair! This is a bunch of bull-shit! I do NOT belong here!” Out came the nurse, “Angelina?” I had to get my blood drawn for the genetic testing and then the nurse brought us back to a room that we had our virtual appointment with the genetic counselor. Prior to this appointment, I filled out an intense packet of questions regarding my family’s medical history and sent it to this counselor. So, during this appointment, we simply reviewed the information. However, that sample of blood they took was a big deal. That got sent off across the country to have the genetic testing completed. This test would tell me if I had the breast cancer gene (only 10% of people with breast cancer have the gene). Whether or not I had the gene would help determine my treatment path.
It was another sleepless night. I remember that night very clearly. I didn’t want to even go into bed because I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. But, I laid down. I got up out of bed several times that night and paced around the house. I think I finally fell asleep about 3:00 a.m. We had to wake up and be on the road by 5:30 a.m. as my first appointment was at 8:00 a.m. That morning was tough. I couldn’t eat. I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t focus. I just needed these appointments to be over. The drive to the cities was quiet. I know Wayne was probably equally as scared as I was, but he wasn’t going to show it. He needed to be strong for me. That dream and those words, “I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do for you” played over and over in my head.
Finally, we got to Abbott Northwestern hospital. We checked in and took the elevator up to the 4th floor and walked towards the suite with the words “Piper Breast Center” written across the doors. My eyes filled with tears. This was the most scared I had ever been in my entire life. In a split second, so many things flashed through my head-my boys, my husband, our dreams we have together…and then we walked in.
We got to a room and we finally met Lisa. She is my nurse care coordinator, and a complete angel from God. I had spoken to her on the phone several times already. Her job was to sit in all of my appointments and take notes for me (and, I mean pages of notes. There is SO much information given at these first appointments and they know we aren’t in a position, mentally, to be able to focus on what’s being said), schedule and organize all of my appointments and treatment, and call to check in on me every once in a while. Why in the hell would anyone ever want that job? To sit through case after case of heart-wrenching stories of how peoples’ lives will forever be changed? But, I was so thankful for her. She was very soft spoken and she calmed me down when I was on the verge of freaking out (several times). Lisa had called me the week prior to go over my surgery options with me so I had an understanding before I went into my appointments this day. Anyway, that day she got us into an exam room and told us about what to expect that day. I would first meet with Dr. Johnson, my Oncology Surgeon. I would then go down and have an MRI so the doctors could have a better look at my breast and my lymph nodes. Finally, I would end my day meeting with my Medical Oncologist. The nurse took my blood pressure once I got into the exam room, and it was high. So, naturally, right away I thought I was dying. I was quickly reassured that “We see this a lot because women are usually a little nervous coming in here.” A little? That was an understatement!
Dr. Johnson came into the room. She, too, was very soft-spoken and awesome. She began to talk to us about surgery options-the surgery was her job. I was thinking that they [my doctors] would just tell me what to do. However, I quickly learned that I had options, which, in a way made things more difficult for me. Back when I was first diagnosed, I just assumed that I would have a double mastectomy, because, well-that’s what people did. Dr. Johnson informed us that is not what they “just do” anymore. Dr. Johnson told us that she would only recommend a double mastectomy, in my case, if I have the breast cancer gene. So, my options are (disclaimer: every case of cancer is different and treated on an individual basis).
1. A double Mastectomy (removal of all breast tissue). If I chose this option, Dr. Johnson recommends chemotherapy prior to surgery. The chemo would [hopefully] kill cancer cells that may be present in the lymph nodes, therefore, eliminating the number of lymph nodes that would have to be removed at the time of surgery (and lowering the risk of lymphedema). She explained this surgery, the risks, and the recovery time to us.
2. A lumpectomy (removal of the tumor/lump and tissue around it) plus radiation. This is a “package”. If I do the lumpectomy, I have to have radiation. Because I already had implants, that makes this option a little more difficult with a few extra steps. At the time of the lumpectomy, they would also remove my current implants and replace them with what they refer to as ‘expanders’ or ‘spacers’. The material is different from the actual implants which will not get in the way of the radiation. Then, six months after radiation is over, I would have another surgery to remove the expanders and replace with implants. So, these extra steps of this option also need to be taken into consideration when I make my decision.
This was a problem for me because:
1. I did not want to have a double mastectomy. I did not want to have that invasive of a surgery if I didn’t need to. I am an active person and I knew that type of surgery would interfere significantly with my lifestyle. Also, the thought of having to remove both of my boobs, everything be fake, and have no feeling to the skin on my chest didn’t excite me too much. The thing is, before it is your body and your decision, you just think, “Well, yeah. Have the surgery. No big deal. It’s going to save your life.” But, in all seriousness, when it comes down to it, the thought of actually having to go through this is terrifying. Boobs aren’t everything, but they are part of what makes us women. They are part of who we are. They are a big deal.
2. I was absolutely scared as shit of radiation! We’ve all heard those horror stories or have experienced it first-hand what the long-term side effects of radiation can be. The other thing to keep in mind is that I can only have radiation on my breasts one time. If this cancer comes back, a lumpectomy will not be an option the second time around.
Dr. Johnson told us that if my friend and I have the same exact cancer and I have the lumpectomy and radiation and she has the double mastectomy, we both have the same survival rate. I asked, “Then why does everyone go straight to having the double mastectomy?” Dr. Johnson replied, “For a peace of mind.” She continued to share that it makes women feel better. If you don’t have any (or very little) breast tissue left, you don’t have to have yearly mammograms. Mammograms (and any scans, labs, tests) cause a lot of anxiety. Dr. Johnson continued to share that Dr. Zander, my Medical Oncologist, would have to weigh-in with his thoughts and the MRI that I was about to have, could also help determine the path to take depending how much lymph node involvement there is.
And there we sat. With options. Neither one was a blaring obvious choice at the time. My head was spinning. That was so much information to take in, and that was only one appointment. I then went down for my MRI. This was an absolute horrible experience for me. I am claustrophobic. I didn’t take the Valium that they offered-believe me, I will be taking that if there is a next time.
We went back up to the Piper Brest Center suite to meet with Dr. Zander. Lisa, my nurse care coordinator was there to take notes. This was the appointment I was the most anxious for. He was the numbers guy-the Pathology guy. He was the treatment guy. He is the one that has the “biggest” say in my cancer journey. Dr.Zander walked into the room, shook mine and Wayne’s hands, and introduced himself. He had my pathology report in his hand. ‘Please don’t tell me what I don’t want to hear’ I said to myself. He started to talk about the results of my biopsy and what everything on the report means. He explained what “triple negative” breast cancer is and that there are fewer options to treat this type of breast cancer. However, the options that are out there, are “aggressive, but effective.” Dr. Zander acknowledged “Your numbers on your Pathology report are kind of scary, but that doesn’t matter”, and he pushed that piece of paper aside. I had a huge sigh of relief in that moment. To me, that piece of paper was my death sentence. But, to him, it was only a piece of paper. He got right to business talking about my treatment plan. Dr. Zander shared that they know surgery alone does not cure cancer. With only surgery, I would have a 30-40% chance of the cancer not coming back. With the addition of Chemotherapy, my chances of the cancer not coming back is 90%...that’s extremely high in the medical field.
So, Dr. Zander told me I would start Chemotherapy with doxorubicin hydrochloride (Adriamycin) and cyclophosphamide, or what is known as ‘AC.’ This would occur every 2 weeks, for 4 infusions. He told me that I would lose my hair after 2-3 weeks of my first treatment. Then, I would have paclitaxel (Taxol) weekly, for 12 weeks. I was quickly doing the math in my head as he said, “So, that’s five months of Chemo.”
“Holy shit”, I thought to myself.
He then asked us if we knew what type of surgery I wanted to have. He quickly explained my two options again. I told him that I really did not know. I had too many “What if’s” going through my head. So, because he wants us to get moving forward with the Regimen, he suggested that we do Chemotherapy first. When I first heard this, I thought, “What the hell? I want this cancer out of me right now.” But then he explained the benefits of having the Chemotherapy fist. He said, “As an Oncologist, if you do Chemotherapy first, I get to see how your body, and tumor, is responding to it.” He continued to explain, that we will be able to feel if the tumor is shrinking. He said, “This can offer a piece of mind to you as well.” He also talked about the Chemotherapy killing off any other cancer cells that might be floating around that we don’t know about, as well as hopefully killing any cells that are in the lymph nodes. After hearing the explanation, it made perfectly good sense to me that I should do Chemotherapy first. Also, this gave me a longer time to determine, and hopefully be at peace with, what I wanted to do for surgery. So, with that said, he continued to share that I would have one month off from treatments, and then have surgery. After surgery, it would be 4-6 weeks until I would start Radiation, which would be every day for 4-6 weeks. “So, from start to finish” Dr. Zander said, “you’re looking at about a sixteen-month time frame.” I stopped listening to what he was saying at this point. I was too focused on the time-frame. “Wow. There is no doubt this was going to change our lives.”
Dr. Zander wanted to get things going as quickly as possible so, we talked about getting a port placed for all my blood draws and infusions. I thought that sounded like a much better idea than getting an I.V. every time I came for treatment. Lisa was able to get a surgery scheduled for the following Monday, October 28th, for the port-placement and I would start Chemotherapy on Tuesday, November 5th. Before we left the exam room, Dr. Zander looked me in the eyes and said, “We will cure you of this cancer.” On one hand, I was so relieved to hear those words come out of his mouth. On the other hand, he really stressed “this cancer.” Throughout the visits that day, there was a lot of talk and statistics thrown out about the chances of a “2nd” cancer coming back or a “new” cancer developing. However, if Dr. Zander was only focusing on this cancer, then that’s where my focus needed to be as well!
Wayne and I both walked out of the hospital with dazed looks in our eyes. We got to the truck, sat down, and looked at each other and said, “Holy Shit” at the same time. That was a crazy amount of information to digest. But, for the first time since we found this darn lump, I felt relieved. We had a plan in place, and I had a team ready to fight along with me.
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