I will never forget it. It was a Monday morning and I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for work when my phone rang about 7:45 a.m. and it showed up as "Dr. Christian". For a slight second I thought that she was calling me that early because it was good news - it must not be cancer. I immediately answered and it was a nurse. Again, I was relieved, nurses call with good news, doctors call with bad news. The relief quickly came to an end.
The nurse said "your biopsy results are in, Dr. Christian would like to see you at 9:00 am, can you make it here then?" Fighting to find oxygen in the air, I said yes. Kevin had already left for work. I did not cry even though I knew the news that awaited me at 9:00. Luckily we were living with my in-laws at the time while our house was being built, and let me just say, my mother-in-law and father-in-law are quite literally angels on earth. I walked out from the back of the house and they were eating breakfast with Gabrielle and I asked if they could watch her while I went to the doctor. I told them what the nurse had said and I am not sure they said a word, they did not have to, we knew - a doctor does not make you come in for good news.
I immediately called Kevin and he said he would meet me at Dr. Christian's office for 9. I remember as soon as we got there they brought us to the back. Maybe it was just in my mind, but it seemed like none of the nurses wanted to make eye contact with me. Kevin and I just sat there in silence. The silence was deafening but I knew if we spoke, I would lose it. So I think I just stared at the wall.
Dr. Christian walked in with a binder and a stack of paperwork and said "Renee, I hate to tell you this, the mass was indeed cancer." And there it was, there could be no more doubt, I had cancer. I was 29 and had breast cancer. Part of me wanted to break down crying but there was a part of me that was relieved, at least I knew now what it was. I could make a plan, I could start the fight - or so I thought. She talked to us for about an hour. It had a name - Invasive ductal carcinoma. Basically the cancer started in the ducts of my breast and had made its way out of the ducts into the surrounding breast tissue. Although it had a name, there were still so many unknowns - how big, what grade, what stage, what treatment.
I could deal with the cancer, I could not deal with more unanswered questions. She talked and talked. I am not sure I said a word. I am not sure I heard everything she was saying. Kevin asked questions, I listened. I listened for a plan, but there was no plan - not today. She said that she wanted to run more tests before deciding on a plan. She would schedule an MRI, another ultrasound, and run a BRCA genetic test before giving me her advice on how to proceed. The MRI and ultrasound would show us how big the tumor was and the BRCA genetic test would show if I carried the BRCA gene, which would mean my likelihood of recurrence or a second cancer would be increased. She said that the BRCA test could be done today but that the results could take anywhere from 14-28 days. That meant I would have to wait 14-28 days before making a fight plan, that's the point where I wanted to cry. I wanted a plan, I wanted the cancer out of my body, I wanted to know what my future was going to look like. BUT I had to wait another 14-28 days before knowing.
She sent me straight down to the lab to do my BRCA bloodwork. Depending on the MRI, ultrasound and BRCA results, my treatment could consists of a possible lumpectomy or mastectomy, radiation, chemotherapy and or hormone therapy. She just was not sure which it would be until more test were run.
She advised me that in the meantime, I should get a second opinion from another breast surgeon, see a radiologist oncologist, and a medical oncologist.
It was horrible position to be in - I knew the enemy, I knew the enemy by name actually, but I could not make a fight plan against the enemy. I had to wait. Like I said earlier, waiting is by far the worst part of cancer.
Everyone around me cried that day - Kevin, my parents, my family, my in-laws, my friends. I did not cry that day. The crying would come later.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
July 25, 2013
So Dr. Christian advised me that the best way to get the best samples of the area was through a stereotactic biopsy. I didn't really care how or what she was going to do, I just wanted it done as quickly and as pain free as possible and I wanted the results ASAP. While a stereotactic biopsy is cruel in and of itself (I will explain in a bit) it is not nearly as cruel as them telling me that it could take up to 10 days to get the results. I can honestly say, the waiting part is the worst part of cancer. Your life becomes a waiting game - you wait to find out if you have cancer, you wait to get appointments with the doctors you need to see, you wait on tests, you wait in waiting rooms, you wait on results, you wait to see what your treatment plan will be, and you wait to see if the cancer will kill you. So yes, without a doubt, the waiting part is the cruelest part of cancer.
Biopsy Day
As I got to the Women's Breast Center I was greeted by social worker who sat me down and talked to me about my emotional state. Of course, I gave the obvious answers - "I am fine, I am not worried, I will be ok, I have a great support system, etc." BUT what I really wanted to say was, "Hey look lady, I am sure you are a very nice lady, and if I was meeting you under different circumstances, I would like you. But right now I do not like you, I don't need you to smile at me and tell me everything will be okay and hand me a little bag with nail polish and clippers in it. I am NOT ok. I am 29 years old and they think I have cancer. I have a three year old that needs to me. I need to see her grow up. I need to see her go to kindergarten, I need to see her graduate high school, I need to see her get married. I NEED to be a normal 29 year old wife and mother." Of course I didn't say that, I gave my strongest smile and I faked my strongest confidence.
So back to this stereotactic biopsy. It basically goes like this:
You have to lie facing down on a biopsy table. The breast that is being biopsied hangs through an opening in the table. (Seems like modern medicine could have figured out a better way for this procedure by now.) The table is raised and the doctor performs the biopsy from underneath.
A stereotactic biopsy includes the following steps:
The whole process did not take that long. I had prepared myself for the worst and it was not as bad as I expected. I have to say, the most memorable part of biopsy day was the awesome dinner my husband cooked me that night - scallops and pasta - my two favorites.
The days following the biopsy
I was a little sore for the next few days but nothing to write home about. The days were ok, I kept busy being a mom, a wife and lawyer. But nothing in my life prepared me for the nights. I dreaded the nights - the silent stillness of the nights where I was left alone with the fear and the thoughts. I just wanted to KNOW. If they told me it was not cancer, I could move on. If they told me it was cancer, I could make plan. But not knowing was so cruel. I pleaded with God, please, I know I probably deserve cancer for all the people I have hurt in my life, especially recently, but Gabrielle doesn't deserve a mom with cancer. God PLEASE let me see my baby girl grow up.
Of course, in the darkness of nights, your mind thinks the worst. I thought I was dying. I would stay up for hours and just watch Gabrielle and Kevin sleep. Not wanting to miss a second of their lives - even if they were just sleeping.
I researched every cancer site, I knew what my white spots looked like on x-ray and slides, I compared it to every picture on the internet. I had no doubt, it was cancer. But I still waited...
Biopsy Day
As I got to the Women's Breast Center I was greeted by social worker who sat me down and talked to me about my emotional state. Of course, I gave the obvious answers - "I am fine, I am not worried, I will be ok, I have a great support system, etc." BUT what I really wanted to say was, "Hey look lady, I am sure you are a very nice lady, and if I was meeting you under different circumstances, I would like you. But right now I do not like you, I don't need you to smile at me and tell me everything will be okay and hand me a little bag with nail polish and clippers in it. I am NOT ok. I am 29 years old and they think I have cancer. I have a three year old that needs to me. I need to see her grow up. I need to see her go to kindergarten, I need to see her graduate high school, I need to see her get married. I NEED to be a normal 29 year old wife and mother." Of course I didn't say that, I gave my strongest smile and I faked my strongest confidence.
So back to this stereotactic biopsy. It basically goes like this:
You have to lie facing down on a biopsy table. The breast that is being biopsied hangs through an opening in the table. (Seems like modern medicine could have figured out a better way for this procedure by now.) The table is raised and the doctor performs the biopsy from underneath.
A stereotactic biopsy includes the following steps:
- The health care provider first cleans the area on your breast. Numbing medicine is injected. This may sting a bit.
- The breast is pressed down to hold it in position during the procedure. You need to hold still while the biopsy is being performed.
- The doctor makes a very small cut on your breast over the area that needs to be biopsied.
- Using a special machine, a needle or sheath is guided to the exact location of the abnormal area. Several samples of breast tissue are taken.
- A small metal clip may be placed into the breast in the biopsy area. The clip marks it for surgical biopsy later, if needed. http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/007433.htm
The whole process did not take that long. I had prepared myself for the worst and it was not as bad as I expected. I have to say, the most memorable part of biopsy day was the awesome dinner my husband cooked me that night - scallops and pasta - my two favorites.
The days following the biopsy
I was a little sore for the next few days but nothing to write home about. The days were ok, I kept busy being a mom, a wife and lawyer. But nothing in my life prepared me for the nights. I dreaded the nights - the silent stillness of the nights where I was left alone with the fear and the thoughts. I just wanted to KNOW. If they told me it was not cancer, I could move on. If they told me it was cancer, I could make plan. But not knowing was so cruel. I pleaded with God, please, I know I probably deserve cancer for all the people I have hurt in my life, especially recently, but Gabrielle doesn't deserve a mom with cancer. God PLEASE let me see my baby girl grow up.
Of course, in the darkness of nights, your mind thinks the worst. I thought I was dying. I would stay up for hours and just watch Gabrielle and Kevin sleep. Not wanting to miss a second of their lives - even if they were just sleeping.
I researched every cancer site, I knew what my white spots looked like on x-ray and slides, I compared it to every picture on the internet. I had no doubt, it was cancer. But I still waited...
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
July 23, 2013
My appointment with Dr. Christian was early morning July 23, 2013. I thought about cancelling the appointment several times in the days leading up to the appointment. I did not want to waste both my time and her time, but again, something kept telling me to just go to appointment. So I went.
Since I have known Dr. Christian for so long, it is always refreshing to see her and catch up. Dr. Christian is one of those doctors that feels like a friend - she knows about my life and I know about hers. I know about her girls, her hobbies, etc. So my mind was completely at ease as she was examining me and we were laughing and joking about daughters, working out, etc. And then I hear the words everyone wants to hear at a doctor's office - "I do not feel anything. Everything seems to be fine." Phew. That was great news to hear. She also said that cancer typically does not cause pain, so it was actually a good sign that I felt pain. Her initial reaction was that it was hormonal fluctuations causing the discomfort and that it would get better on its own. So I was right, I wasted both my time and her time. BUT being the awesome doctor that she is, she said "while you are here, go on down and get a mammogram. It wont hurt to be extra cautious." So that's what I did.
I went to the lab and x-ray wing of the hospital where I was greeted by these little old ladies who handed me a paper gown and offered me tea or water. I was a little aggravated that I had to wait around and miss more work to get a mammogram that I clearly did not need, heck I am only 29 years old. I looked around I was at least 25 years younger than any other woman sitting around in a pink paper gown waiting on a mammogram. This was going to be a waste of my time.
I finally get called back for my mammogram. For anyone that has not had a mammogram, they are not the most comfortable of tests, but as I have learned, they are LIFESAVERS! So this really sweet tech who is about my age starts handling my breasts trying to get them in the perfect position to be smashed and resmashed and then smashed again to get the most clear picture. Its fun...
The tech started on the right breast - the one in which I had been having pain. She takes a few shots of that one and moves on to the left one. Everything seemed to be going fine. The first indication that anything was wrong was when I started counting the number of pictures she was taking of the left breast and how many times she kept coming to readjust my breast and get the machine tighter. Hmm, why is she paying so much attention to the breast that isn't even hurting?? Sign number two that something was wrong - when the tech says "I need to step out and show the radiologist some of these slides, I will be right back." Well here comes that gut feeling, something isn't right. The bubbly tech comes in a little less bubbly and says she needs to try to get a few more pictures for the radiologist. My breast had almost had it by this point, but there was nothing I could really do at this point but tough it out (I am not the greatest at toughing it out). The tech takes more pictures and leaves the room again. She comes back in and says that I can go back to waiting room but not to get dressed yet. So at this point, its clear there is something they are seeing that they are not liking. I go back to waiting room in my pink paper gown and start googling things on my phone to see what sort of things they can determine by mammogram. I am a wee bit of a hypochondriac, so I immediately diagnosed myself with breast cancer from a website.
Another tech comes and gets me from the waiting room and says that the radiologist wants to do an ultrasound of the left breast to get some more pictures. Radiologist techs must be trained in poker faces. I keep asking questions about what they are looking for and what they are seeing, but she gives nothing up. She says she needs to step out to show the radiologist some things. So at this point, I know something is wrong and tears begin to well up in my eyes. The radiologist comes in himself and says that he wants to take a closer look at some suspicious spots. He takes his time and I now see on the screen what they must be seeing that is concerning them, a bundle of tiny white spots. To me, it looks innocent enough, just a bunch of tiny white dots. After what seems like hours of silence, although I think it was only minutes, the radiologist speaks. He says that he does not like what he is seeing and that it is "very suspicious". The white dots are calcifications which can be indicative of cancer. He says that he will write up a report and then I need to go straight back to Dr. Christian's office to determine the next step. At this point I am trying to not cry, I am trying to hold it together. I bite my lip to keep the tears from coming. I wait for the report and then head back to Dr. Christian's office. She sits down with me and explains that while this cluster of white calcifications is suspicious, there is only a 20% chance that it is cancer. I like those odds - there is only a 1 in 5 chance that it is cancer. She explains that the next step is a biopsy to determine what exactly it is. Her next opening for a biopsy was two days later, I immediately tell her I want it done ASAP. I would take the first available appointment. So I take the July 25th appointment.
I immediately call my husband and tell him the news. I am pretty sure he was in shock, but I do not believe that he thought it was cancer. In fact, no one I told believed that it would be cancer. Deep down, I knew it was cancer.
Kevin and I agreed that he would get Gabrielle from school and that I should tell my brother and mom in person about the possibility of it being cancer. There are moments in life that you will never forget. This day was one of those - telling my mom and brother in person and telling my dad by phone were one of those moments.
I first went to my brother Scotty's office. I swore to myself that I would not cry and that I was going to make it sound as casual as possible. So after several minutes of small talk about our kids, etc, I tell him that the doctors found a mass they did not like and that there is a possibility that it is cancer. Anyone that knows SB and me, know that we are close. We know what each other are thinking most of the time and we can communicate on a non-verbal level that no one else can really understand. His face said one thing and his mouth said another thing - "Renee, its not going to be cancer. I just know its not cancer." His face didn't agree with his words. I do not totally remember but I think I made it through without crying.
Next stop was my mom's office. I KNEW I had to be tough for this one. My mom may be the strongest woman I have ever met in my entire life UNTIL it comes to her kids and grandkids, then she is a total mess. So I walk into her office and tell her the news, much to my surprise she handled it well. She has lived through it, twice. She kept calm and just said, if it is cancer, we will take care of it. We will do what we have to do. Wow, my mom was handling the news rationally, I could not believe it. I am sure the moment I left and closed the door she lost it, but she stayed strong for me. And for that, I was grateful.
I made several calls that day (my dad, my best friend Julie, my cousin, my co-workers) and everyone said the same thing - its not going to be cancer, you are too young!
I knew that day it was cancer.
Since I have known Dr. Christian for so long, it is always refreshing to see her and catch up. Dr. Christian is one of those doctors that feels like a friend - she knows about my life and I know about hers. I know about her girls, her hobbies, etc. So my mind was completely at ease as she was examining me and we were laughing and joking about daughters, working out, etc. And then I hear the words everyone wants to hear at a doctor's office - "I do not feel anything. Everything seems to be fine." Phew. That was great news to hear. She also said that cancer typically does not cause pain, so it was actually a good sign that I felt pain. Her initial reaction was that it was hormonal fluctuations causing the discomfort and that it would get better on its own. So I was right, I wasted both my time and her time. BUT being the awesome doctor that she is, she said "while you are here, go on down and get a mammogram. It wont hurt to be extra cautious." So that's what I did.
I went to the lab and x-ray wing of the hospital where I was greeted by these little old ladies who handed me a paper gown and offered me tea or water. I was a little aggravated that I had to wait around and miss more work to get a mammogram that I clearly did not need, heck I am only 29 years old. I looked around I was at least 25 years younger than any other woman sitting around in a pink paper gown waiting on a mammogram. This was going to be a waste of my time.
I finally get called back for my mammogram. For anyone that has not had a mammogram, they are not the most comfortable of tests, but as I have learned, they are LIFESAVERS! So this really sweet tech who is about my age starts handling my breasts trying to get them in the perfect position to be smashed and resmashed and then smashed again to get the most clear picture. Its fun...
The tech started on the right breast - the one in which I had been having pain. She takes a few shots of that one and moves on to the left one. Everything seemed to be going fine. The first indication that anything was wrong was when I started counting the number of pictures she was taking of the left breast and how many times she kept coming to readjust my breast and get the machine tighter. Hmm, why is she paying so much attention to the breast that isn't even hurting?? Sign number two that something was wrong - when the tech says "I need to step out and show the radiologist some of these slides, I will be right back." Well here comes that gut feeling, something isn't right. The bubbly tech comes in a little less bubbly and says she needs to try to get a few more pictures for the radiologist. My breast had almost had it by this point, but there was nothing I could really do at this point but tough it out (I am not the greatest at toughing it out). The tech takes more pictures and leaves the room again. She comes back in and says that I can go back to waiting room but not to get dressed yet. So at this point, its clear there is something they are seeing that they are not liking. I go back to waiting room in my pink paper gown and start googling things on my phone to see what sort of things they can determine by mammogram. I am a wee bit of a hypochondriac, so I immediately diagnosed myself with breast cancer from a website.
Another tech comes and gets me from the waiting room and says that the radiologist wants to do an ultrasound of the left breast to get some more pictures. Radiologist techs must be trained in poker faces. I keep asking questions about what they are looking for and what they are seeing, but she gives nothing up. She says she needs to step out to show the radiologist some things. So at this point, I know something is wrong and tears begin to well up in my eyes. The radiologist comes in himself and says that he wants to take a closer look at some suspicious spots. He takes his time and I now see on the screen what they must be seeing that is concerning them, a bundle of tiny white spots. To me, it looks innocent enough, just a bunch of tiny white dots. After what seems like hours of silence, although I think it was only minutes, the radiologist speaks. He says that he does not like what he is seeing and that it is "very suspicious". The white dots are calcifications which can be indicative of cancer. He says that he will write up a report and then I need to go straight back to Dr. Christian's office to determine the next step. At this point I am trying to not cry, I am trying to hold it together. I bite my lip to keep the tears from coming. I wait for the report and then head back to Dr. Christian's office. She sits down with me and explains that while this cluster of white calcifications is suspicious, there is only a 20% chance that it is cancer. I like those odds - there is only a 1 in 5 chance that it is cancer. She explains that the next step is a biopsy to determine what exactly it is. Her next opening for a biopsy was two days later, I immediately tell her I want it done ASAP. I would take the first available appointment. So I take the July 25th appointment.
I immediately call my husband and tell him the news. I am pretty sure he was in shock, but I do not believe that he thought it was cancer. In fact, no one I told believed that it would be cancer. Deep down, I knew it was cancer.
Kevin and I agreed that he would get Gabrielle from school and that I should tell my brother and mom in person about the possibility of it being cancer. There are moments in life that you will never forget. This day was one of those - telling my mom and brother in person and telling my dad by phone were one of those moments.
I first went to my brother Scotty's office. I swore to myself that I would not cry and that I was going to make it sound as casual as possible. So after several minutes of small talk about our kids, etc, I tell him that the doctors found a mass they did not like and that there is a possibility that it is cancer. Anyone that knows SB and me, know that we are close. We know what each other are thinking most of the time and we can communicate on a non-verbal level that no one else can really understand. His face said one thing and his mouth said another thing - "Renee, its not going to be cancer. I just know its not cancer." His face didn't agree with his words. I do not totally remember but I think I made it through without crying.
Next stop was my mom's office. I KNEW I had to be tough for this one. My mom may be the strongest woman I have ever met in my entire life UNTIL it comes to her kids and grandkids, then she is a total mess. So I walk into her office and tell her the news, much to my surprise she handled it well. She has lived through it, twice. She kept calm and just said, if it is cancer, we will take care of it. We will do what we have to do. Wow, my mom was handling the news rationally, I could not believe it. I am sure the moment I left and closed the door she lost it, but she stayed strong for me. And for that, I was grateful.
I made several calls that day (my dad, my best friend Julie, my cousin, my co-workers) and everyone said the same thing - its not going to be cancer, you are too young!
I knew that day it was cancer.
Sometime in June 2013
I have always heard the sayings like "you should listen to that little voice in your ear", "a woman's intuition is always right", and "go with your gut feeling".
You are free to call it whatever you like - a little voice, intuition, gut feeling - I now call it God. I knew something was not right with my body. I have too often listened to that devil on my shoulder rather than God. In fact, I live with the daily question, guilt and doubt that maybe if I would have listened to God more and the devil less, I may not have gotten cancer in the first place. Maybe cancer is my punishment for all the times I ignored God (but that's another story for another day).
But lets just say, I knew something was wrong with my body. I had been having pain in my right breast for several weeks. Not a terrible pain, but a pain that made me realize something was just not right. I kept putting it to the back of my mind and ignoring it. Plus, I kept telling myself that I did not have time to make a doctor's appointment and it would probably just be a waste of my time and my doctor's time if I did make an appointment. So I ignored it.
God works in mysterious ways. One day in June my best friend Julie called to tell me about a mutual friend who had just been diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 33. All the while, during the phone call, my breast ached. What seemed like just a regular call to my best friend Julie, was actually a wake up call to me. As soon as Julie and I hung up, I called my breast specialist's office and made an appointment - the first available was early July which was fine with me, because I was sure it was nothing.
So you may be wondering why I had a breast specialist even before I was diagnosed with cancer. Well with my mom's breast cancer history and my history of having to have benign lumps removed, I had been lucky enough to get referred to Dr. Christian years beforehand. Dr. Christian has been seeing me on about a yearly basis since college. If you live in Louisiana - she is an amazing doctor and I would highly recommend her!
So the appointment was made and I really did not think much about it after that. I was convinced that if it was anything, it was just another benign tumor. Life goes on.
And then July comes...
You are free to call it whatever you like - a little voice, intuition, gut feeling - I now call it God. I knew something was not right with my body. I have too often listened to that devil on my shoulder rather than God. In fact, I live with the daily question, guilt and doubt that maybe if I would have listened to God more and the devil less, I may not have gotten cancer in the first place. Maybe cancer is my punishment for all the times I ignored God (but that's another story for another day).
But lets just say, I knew something was wrong with my body. I had been having pain in my right breast for several weeks. Not a terrible pain, but a pain that made me realize something was just not right. I kept putting it to the back of my mind and ignoring it. Plus, I kept telling myself that I did not have time to make a doctor's appointment and it would probably just be a waste of my time and my doctor's time if I did make an appointment. So I ignored it.
God works in mysterious ways. One day in June my best friend Julie called to tell me about a mutual friend who had just been diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 33. All the while, during the phone call, my breast ached. What seemed like just a regular call to my best friend Julie, was actually a wake up call to me. As soon as Julie and I hung up, I called my breast specialist's office and made an appointment - the first available was early July which was fine with me, because I was sure it was nothing.
So you may be wondering why I had a breast specialist even before I was diagnosed with cancer. Well with my mom's breast cancer history and my history of having to have benign lumps removed, I had been lucky enough to get referred to Dr. Christian years beforehand. Dr. Christian has been seeing me on about a yearly basis since college. If you live in Louisiana - she is an amazing doctor and I would highly recommend her!
So the appointment was made and I really did not think much about it after that. I was convinced that if it was anything, it was just another benign tumor. Life goes on.
And then July comes...
A little about me
My name is Renee Chabert Crasto and at the age of 29, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Up until this point in my life I have been a lot of things - a daughter, a wife, a mother, a student, an attorney, a friend. I was not really looking to add any other titles to my resume, especially not cancer patient. But God, as he often does, had other plans. As of July 29, 2013, I added cancer patient to my list of attributes.
I decided to start this blog for several reasons. First, after being diagnosed with breast cancer, I would search for hours and hours on the internet looking for stories of survival of young people like me who were battling cancer. I am determined that my story will be a survival story so I want to share it. Second, writing has always been healing for me, so hopefully writing my story, putting it on paper, and encouraging others to take their health seriously and listen to their bodies will help me to heal. Last, like other things, time has a way of making you forget things. I want to remember my story. I want to remember the details. I want a reminder of what I have been through and what I am going through to remind me of how far I have come.
Even though some people may look at my diagnoses of cancer and my age and think that I am unlucky; I truly believe I am one of the luckiest people alive. I have a wonderful husband who has stood by me throughout this cancer ordeal (and he had lots of reasons not to - more on that later maybe). I really never knew how much he loved me until cancer. I have the most beautiful smartest three year old in the whole world. She makes life worth living. She made my decision to fight cancer with everything I have an easy one. I have wonderful parents, family, in-laws and friends who wouldn't let me give up this battle even if I tried. So yes, cancer at 29 sucks BUT I am still blessed in most ways.
I am going to try to go back to the beginning and retell my story from the start throughout this blog. However, my story does not really start in July 2013. So there may be points when the story gets choppy and out of place, I will do my best to make sense of it.
Unfortunately, I was no stranger to cancer before 2013. I have watched my mother battle cancer twice. I am happy to say that she is a strong woman and cancer never stood a chance with her and she is a survivor. I think in the back of my mind, I knew that there was always a strong possibility that I would someday get breast cancer - I have a strong family history of it on both sides - I just never expected it at 29.
So my story begins....
I decided to start this blog for several reasons. First, after being diagnosed with breast cancer, I would search for hours and hours on the internet looking for stories of survival of young people like me who were battling cancer. I am determined that my story will be a survival story so I want to share it. Second, writing has always been healing for me, so hopefully writing my story, putting it on paper, and encouraging others to take their health seriously and listen to their bodies will help me to heal. Last, like other things, time has a way of making you forget things. I want to remember my story. I want to remember the details. I want a reminder of what I have been through and what I am going through to remind me of how far I have come.
Even though some people may look at my diagnoses of cancer and my age and think that I am unlucky; I truly believe I am one of the luckiest people alive. I have a wonderful husband who has stood by me throughout this cancer ordeal (and he had lots of reasons not to - more on that later maybe). I really never knew how much he loved me until cancer. I have the most beautiful smartest three year old in the whole world. She makes life worth living. She made my decision to fight cancer with everything I have an easy one. I have wonderful parents, family, in-laws and friends who wouldn't let me give up this battle even if I tried. So yes, cancer at 29 sucks BUT I am still blessed in most ways.
I am going to try to go back to the beginning and retell my story from the start throughout this blog. However, my story does not really start in July 2013. So there may be points when the story gets choppy and out of place, I will do my best to make sense of it.
Unfortunately, I was no stranger to cancer before 2013. I have watched my mother battle cancer twice. I am happy to say that she is a strong woman and cancer never stood a chance with her and she is a survivor. I think in the back of my mind, I knew that there was always a strong possibility that I would someday get breast cancer - I have a strong family history of it on both sides - I just never expected it at 29.
So my story begins....
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