Hope

"Difficulties are meant to rouse, not discourage.  The human spirit is to grow strong by conflict."  --William Channing

Here is something I wrote months ago, back in December.  This is after I was first diagnosed, before my first surgery.  It's a little rough and emotional, but I left it that way.  It's how I felt at the time.  I actually couldn't even reread it until just recently, now that I'm in a totally different place, both in my journey battling cancer and in my attitude about life.

            Despite the countless tales of people getting cancer, no one really believes that it can happen to them.  It is something we hear about in other people’s lives.  It is something that might happen when we’re older.  I was definitely in the group of people that believed these illogical ideas. 

            Ironically, when I found the lump that would change my life, I was the healthiest and happiest I had ever been.  I was twenty-seven-years-old and had lost eight-five pounds since giving birth to my beautiful baby girl.  I was happily married to the man of my dreams, had great friends and family, and a job I loved (none of which have changed).  I got regular check-ups at the doctor, dentist, and all other appropriate doctors.  I ate healthy and, while I didn’t exercise in the technical sense of the word, I spent all of my free time chasing my very active daughter around.  I felt great.

            Then, on November 13, 2011, I found it.  I was lying on the floor playing with my baby girl, Grace.  She had been repeatedly jumping on me, wanting me to catch her.  My hand happened to bump into my chest and I noticed an odd lump.  I didn’t think too much about it, but continued to play with Grace.

            Later that afternoon, my husband and I were headed out for the evening.  The lump was nagging at me in my mind.  I casually mentioned it to my husband, more to clear my mind than anything else.  I had just finished nursing three weeks prior, and assured my husband that it was probably from that.  However, it was still bugging me later that night.  Those who know me well know that I am a worrier.  By this I mean, I am an insane worrier.  I worry about things that don’t even mean anything.  Once I get something stuck in my head, I can’t get it out until it is solved.  So, when I was saying my prayers that evening, I prayed to God, “If this is nothing God, please let me stop worrying about it.  However, if it is something that needs to be taken care of, please let it bother me until I go to the doctor.”  God must have heard my prayers because that lump would not give me any peace the next day.  As soon as I had a free moment at work, I called my doctor for an appointment. 

            Since I had to wait a couple of days for my appointment and, as I’ve already mentioned, I’m a worrier, I felt the need to discuss my worries with a few close friends.  Everyone assured me that it was nothing.  “Most lumps are nothing to worry about,” they said.  “You’re too young for breast cancer.”  “You just finished nursing.  You can’t take lumps seriously after nursing.”  Although their comments made me feel better, I remained nervous.

            At my appointment a couple of days later, the nurse practitioner said the same things.  She felt pretty certain that it was simply a fibro adenoma.  However, she knew I was worried and took that very seriously (something I am ever so thankful for).  She made me an appointment for an ultrasound the following day. 

            The following evening, she called me with the results of the ultrasound—the lump was still “suspicious” (a word I have grown to hate).  She scheduled me with a follow-up appointment with a specialist. 

            Thankfully, the specialist got us in the following day.  She reviewed my ultrasound and gave me an exam.  However, she said the same things everyone else had said, “You’re too young.  I’m almost positive it is a fibro adenoma.  Nothing to worry about.”  However, she did want to remove it, as they can get pretty big.  I was scheduled for an excisional biopsy and went home feeling relieved. 

            I continued to feel better after I went home and researched.  I like to know everything so I went home and looked up everything I could on breast lumps, specifically fibro adenomas.  Everything I found was reassuring.  Most lumps were nothing, especially for someone my age.  Cancer tended to be immovable and hard, but my lump was movable and felt soft.  Cancer did not run in my family.  We only had a few cases that I knew of, and no one related to me by blood had breast cancer.  I was so happy.

            The excisional biopsy went well.  The surgery didn’t last long and I was home later that day with my baby girl and husband.  I felt a little dizzy and queasy from the anesthesia, but otherwise great.  The doctor had said everything looked great and she was expecting no surprises from the biopsy.  Someone would call me the following Monday to see how I felt and then later in the week the biopsy results would return.  No worries.

            Unfortunately, I did have worries.  I just didn’t know it yet.  I will remember December 5, 2011 for the rest of my life.  I had arrived home with my daughter a little irritated.  The doctor’s office had not yet called to check on my like they said they would and I hate when people don’t do what they say they will.  How little did I know how much I didn’t want that phone call.  As I came in the house, my phone rang.  It was my surgeon.  I didn’t think anything was off.  After all, they said they’d call about how I was feeling.  I should have prepared myself when the doctor asked if I was home, but I didn’t.  Then, she said those awful words, “I’m so sorry, Sara.  The biopsy came back and I have bad news.  It is cancer.  I really didn’t think it would come back this way.”  She told me she’d let me process this news and call me back in twenty minutes with more information.  I held it together until I hung up the phone. 

            My husband called at exactly that moment.  Maybe he knew somehow that I needed him.  He was on his way home.  I called my mom who jumped in the car and was at my house as fast as her car would carry her.  In the meantime, my dad arrived.  My wonderful family was already zooming in to my rescue.

All the while, I clutched my baby girl.  I sobbed.  Not even for me, but for her.  She was my first thought.  My heart broke in about a million pieces at the thought of my precious baby girl growing up without her momma. 

My mom and dad stayed with me until my husband, Josh, got home.  In the meantime, I learned that I had an invasive ductal carcinoma.  I had an appointment to discuss this further with the surgeon the following day. 

At that appointment, all I really learned was how much I didn’t know.  Even when she had taken it out, the surgeon had really thought it looked like nothing.  Therefore, all she had worried about was getting the thing out.  She had not taken a margin of healthy tissue, something that would now have to be done.  She had not worried about testing lymph nodes, which would now need to be tested.  She gave me options, all of which she said depended on further tests.  They would have to go back in regardless of which option I chose.  One option was to have a lumpectomy to remove the healthy tissue around the area that the carcinoma had been, followed by radiation.  The other option she gave was to have a mastectomy.  When I left the appointment with my husband, I was not much better than when I had come. 

I discussed options with my husband and family that night.  I also talked to my aunt, who was going through this same battle.  Everyone agreed that I should get a second opinion and everyone wanted me to go to the Siteman Cancer Center, which was the best in the area. 

The next morning, I talked to Siteman.  I was impressed right away, even before my appointment.  They were very on top of things.  They set me up with an appointment right away with a surgeon that specializes in breast cancer in young women. 

Upon meeting with her, we discussed my options once again.  However, she explained that breast cancer in someone my age is a monster all its own.  Since cancer tends to be more aggressive in young people, we would have to treat it more aggressively.  She recommended a bilateral mastectomy and she said the “c” word that I dreaded almost as much as cancer—chemo.  I cried, as I have done on so many occasions since I received my news.  I met with a plastic surgeon later that day to discuss reconstruction and made my appointment for surgery. 

My surgery is set for December 23, which is this Friday.  I’m doing better this week than I did last week, and I did better last week than I did the week I found out.  I had to make some decisions for myself and for my family.  It would be easy to throw in the towel and give up.  I certainly felt that way when I received the news.  However, I have a baby girl that I want to watch grow up, I have a husband who I want to grow old with, and I have family and friends who need me.  I had to wrap my mind around some things and change my attitude fast.  I won’t say that my tears are done, but I’m going to fight.

Although I’ve only had my diagnosis for a short time, I’ve already learned so much, both about myself and about others.  First of all, I’ve discovered that I am strong.  As much as I’d like to cry and as easy at it would be to curl up in a ball and cry all day- I’m not.  I’ve forced myself to be strong and positive for my little girl, my husband, my family and friends, and my students.  I have strengthened my faith in God and pray more than ever.  I have always felt that everything happens for a reason, and, while I don’t know the reason yet, I feel that God has big plans for me.  I will find a way to use this experience to help people and to show my daughter that, if you put your mind to it, you can overcome anything.  As my Aunt Pam (a teacher as well) says, “We are teachers.  Maybe that’s why we have to go through this, so we can teach people.”  And that’s what I plan to do. 

I have learned that I have to trust other people in my life to take care of things.  I do not have to do everything.  Others are perfectly capable of doing things the right way.  Long before I was a mother, I had a motherly attitude.  I’ve always taken care of people.  I know that I’m going to need help in this ordeal and I must learn to accept it with grace. 

Most of all I’ve learned that Charles Dickins was right when he said, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”  Although this is hands down the worst thing that has ever happened to me, I have never felt more blessed.  I have watched my bad experience bring out the very best in those around me.  I have been amazed at the kindness, generosity, love, and faith that people have shown me.  I have been showered with prayers, help, cards, and love, some from people I have never even met.  I have been mentally brought to my knees on countless occasions in the past couple of weeks and can’t begin to express my gratitude. 

I have been reminded how much teenagers can surprise you.  I teach ninth and tenth grade English and told my students right away.  I feel they deserve to know what’s going on, especially since I will have to be away from them at the beginning of the semester for a little while.  Many were surprised by my decision.  And yet, my students have handled this news with the grace and compassion of people beyond their years.  Students from my past and present have rallied around me to offer their support.

As I continue this journey, I have two requests for anyone who might read this.  The first is—do not suffer in silence!  I chose to tell people right away because I believe that I have to start at the top and work my way down if I’m going to beat this—so I needed prayers.  People can’t pray if they don’t know.  As I tell people though, I realize how many people are going through similar situations, yet suffering in silence.  Tell your story!  Make sure you are heard.  People will surprise you.  Their hope and love will help heal you.

My second wish is that you go with your instincts.  Like many awful things in life, cancer doesn’t care if you’re young or old, rich or poor, happy or sad.  I’m so thankful that I called the doctor when I did and that I was taken seriously.  Not everyone is that lucky.  Don’t “wait it out” just because you are afraid of the information.  Get any “suspicious” lumps checked out now!  Get regular check-ups.  And, most importantly, if you have a feeling something is wrong—make sure someone takes it seriously, even if it means getting a second or third opinion.

So, my journey continues later this week.  I will have a bilateral mastectomy and the beginnings of reconstruction.  Once I heal, I will have chemotherapy and possibly radiation.  It is my hope that at this time next year, I will be reflecting back on this time as a learning experience and counting my ever-growing list of blessings.  I hope to be cooking Christmas Eve dinner for my family and playing with my baby girl. 

I know that I will get through this.  And, when I do, I know it will be because of my baby girl- who will have saved my life.  If I had not nursed her, I wouldn’t even have known what was normal and probably wouldn’t have found the lump.  If I did not love her so much, it would be harder to fight.

It will be because of my husband and his unfaltering love, support, and belief.  If not for him, I would already have broken down.

It will be because of my family, who has surrounded me with prayers, love, and help.  If not for them, I would be nothing.

It will be because of my friends, who have stepped up in ways that I could not even have imagined.  If not for them, I would not feel comfortable enough to share my story with the world.

It will be because of my students, who have put their belief in me.  If not for them, I would not feel as strong.

And, oddly enough, it will be because of my faults.  I have always been a crazy, OCD worrywart.  If not for that, I would never have been diagnosed. 

I have a good friend who has bought me several of these beautiful little angels.  They sit on my counter as a constant reminder to pray and have hope:D <3