So, from the beginning....
I found a lump in May, 2018 my breast was bulging out of my bra on the left side. Because I've had fibroid cyst before I thought this would be the same thing. I mean, I am 36 years old no way it could be anything different. Fast forward to June 1st the day of my diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. TGMC staff has the worse poker faces y'all. I knew before I left that it was cancer. They didn't come out and say "Nicole, it's cancer" but those faces assured me this was way more than just a cyst.
After my biopsy the pathology report came in on June 11th. Dr. Rau told me over the phone that it was what he suspected all along, cancer. I remember lingering in the halls of LSU waiting on Camryn to come take her LSU ID card photo when I got the call. It was raining that day, I knew it was a sign from my Mom. She was sad. When I was little my great-great grandfather use to tell us that when it rains heaven is crying. I knew I had to look at Camryn and be ok and I was, I was fine. No tears fell. I called Nick, and he drove 17 hours from Ohio where he was working to come home. The next day Dr. Rau scheduled me to come in to go over the pathology report.
The pathology report was very foreign to me. I didn't understand it but what I understood was that it was Stage 2 or 3 and it was Invasive Mammary Carcinoma, Favorable Ductal Type. If you know anything about Breast Cancer then this will make sense to you. I am ER negative, PgR positive, and HER2 positive. One of the positives in this diagnosis is that they know what's feeding this cancer, therefore they know how to kill it. But here's the catch if you google HER2 positive there's no blogs that will tell you that is a good diagnosis. HER2-positive breast cancer is a breast cancer that test positive for protein called human epidermal growth factor receptor 2 (HER2), which promotes the growth of cancer cells. In about 1 of every 5 breast cancers, the cancer cells have a gene mutation that makes an excess of the HER2 protein. HER2-positive breast cancer tend to be more aggressive than other types of breast cancer. They're less likely to be sensitive to hormone therapy, though many people with HER2-positive breast cancer can still benefit from hormone therapy.
Next step was to start meeting with my team. This was unnecessarily, stupidly, stressful. Mary Bird Perkins would not schedule me fast enough. Still pisses me off. I fought tooth and nail for an appointment, I felt nothing short than a bother to Mary Bird Perkins. I took matters into my own hands and called Ochsner, they scheduled me within 48 hours, June 18th (surgeon oncologist) and June 19th (oncologist). MD Anderson scheduled me quickly also, it was impressive and they were so kind over the phone. I ultimately choose Ochsner because I loved my Surgeon Oncologist, Dr. Aimee Mackey. She was so damn thorough even Nick understood everything she was saying. She picked apart my pathology report. Did a visual diagram for me and stayed physically very close to me making sure I knew what she meant. She told me everything my oncologist would tell me. After I meet with Dr. Du Lingling I was assured that Ochsner could treat me. They would be my team. Dr. Du is amazing also, that appointment was a bit of a blur to me. I walked into the room where we would meet her which is the same hall you walk to get to the chemo room. I saw ladies with no hair hooked up to machines receiving their chemo, it was a fucking kick in my gut. I was terrified but no one knew. I withheld my fears. I remember Dr. Du saying you can't work for a week after chemo and you will lose your hair. I knew all of this but it still hits you differently when your oncologist is telling you the harsh reality of this. Hair? No big deal? Don't even get me started on that...you go shave your head...go ahead, I'll wait. Dr. Du gave me paperwork on all the drugs she would be giving me. She called in all my scripts for me that day also. I remember thinking why she sending all my scripts now it's not like I'm starting chemo tomorrow? Walgreens started calling my phone saying my scripts were ready, I was like y'all gonna wait because I'm not ready. And, I'm still not ready and today is the day before chemo starts. I'll never be ready I don't think anyway. Dr. Du told me I would start chemo within the next week or two.
Here's what Dr. Mackey drew out for me, it'll probably be foreign to you. But some of you are medically inclined.
We were only aware of the one mass on the left breast right? Dr. Mackey found not only another lump on my left breast but also found one on my right. So, a series of different test over the week to find out exactly what I'm fighting. So, I put my tennis shoes on because it's go time. June 25- June 29th my series of test was done. 6/25-PET scan-that came back with no cancer in my bones or liver. But, positive for cancer in 2 lymph nodes on left side along with mass on left breast. 6/27-MRI of breast there's a second mass on the left breast along with the first one and the 2 lymph nodes. 6/28-Biopsy confirmed lymph nodes positive for cancer but the second tumor found, positive for cancer Stage 2A. They believe the second tumor is connected to the first one, it just spread. So, overall it's 8.2cm (about the size of a baseball). The right breast cyst is about 18mm. 6/29-PORT install and Echo of my heart. All went well. I could elaborate about this port install but I will say it was fucking scary. I kid you not. I was under twilight sedation and I remember everything. I just wanted someone to hold my hand but nobody did I couldn't even see anyone. Puts tears in my eyes just thinking about that damn procedure. Here's a picture of my port it pulls my skin and it's the most annoying thing ever.
What about me, personally? I'm ok. I think I went into "fight mode" when I was diagnosed. Here's a little bit of my work coming out...Stress experts around the world are adding the word freeze to the name in deference to the fact that instead of fighting or fleeing, sometimes we tend to freeze (like a deer in the headlights) in traumatic situations. The fight or flight response (in its original form) is about survival. So, I'm trying to survive, I want to live. I have kids. Camryn is 17 and starting her first year at LSU in August. I am so excited for her, this is a huge accomplishment in itself. When I told my children, I assured them both NOTHING would change for them. Camryn is going to LSU, and Jacob will move forward this year with braces, permit, and then his license. Jacob is 15 and is still quiet, reserved, and funny. Nick, oh my heart....be still for a second. God couldn't have put a better man in my life to go through this with. My love grows for him daily, he allows himself to be the punching bag I need most days, he keeps me fed with all my favorite food, and is connected to my hip more than Mila is. (lol)
I have a brave face y'all I'm not afraid of much except death and something happening to the people I love. I can handle this fight. I borrow fights from people that don't want to fight. I got it, no worries. What I don't want is for my children to fight too. I don't want this for them. I've been there as a daughter with my Mom. It was scary, unimaginable scary but I was also 26 when my Mom died not 17 or 15 years old. My Mom's death changed me. I don't want this fight for me to change my kids. I don't want the resentment to set in. I don't want them to blame God. I don't want them to loose faith. I don't want them to be afraid of showing their emotions or their fears because of me.
Cancer is so scary. Why? Because you could die, stupid question, right?
Cancer is scary because it is so familiar. It's not that everyone knows someone who's had cancer, it's that everyone knows someone who has died of cancer. When I told my children I had cancer I saw their brains going to the thoughts of their Nana dying. The emotions from their reaction is raw. I won't share their experience but I'll never forget it. Just for a second close your eyes and imagine your children whaling crying. And, I feel like I did this to them. Trust me, I know I didn't. It's just the way I feel right now.
Cancer is a thief. It steals you away. It will steal everything from me that makes me, me. Bit by bit. My hair, my energy, my image, my sense of taste. That's just so rude. No makeup will cover the pale look I'll have. Or the bags under my eyes, I could try some expensive shit but it won't shift the look. No one will agree that I look like someone who lives under a bridge but I'll know. You'll tell me that my wig looks real. You'll tell me I look great. You'll even tell me how strong I am. Look, I get it. It's the right things to say. Cancer will stay with me for the rest of my life. Even if I beat this monster I will live with the fear of it returning for the rest of my life. Just because I seem incredibly brave, doesn't mean I am not scared shitless. K?
Cheers to starting fucking chemo tomorrow.
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