Painting My Blog Pink

As I said the other day, I'm hooking up with Marilyn to do a Paint Your Blog Pink for breast cancer awareness. I'm going to share my family's story dealing with breast cancer, and hopefully it will encourage someone to go get a mammogram, do a self-check, talk to their doctor, ANYTHING. I've never told this story from beginning to end, so I'm just going to share it as I remember it. It's going to be a bit lengthy, but the whole thing is very important. Here goes...

My grandmother on my mom's side  was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was still living at home in high school. I don't remember a lot of it, but I remember when the call came. My mom was in our office on the phone with my grandma, and I could hear her crying, asking questions. When my grandma got surgery, my mom flew down to California to help take care of her. That's all I really remember about my grandma's story. For my mom however...

It was October 17, 2009. My husband Patrick was in Orlando, FL for work and was scheduled to come home in 2 days. We hadn't even been married for 2 months, and were enjoying being newlyweds. I was sitting on the couch watching TV when I got a call from my mom. She starts chit-chatting like we normally do and finally says, "Are you sitting down?" I said yes. "I have something I need to tell you. I have breast cancer." Instantly my eyes well up with tears as she explains more. "I did a self-exam about a month ago and I found a lump. So I went to the Doctor to have it tested, and it came back positive." My first question was, "You knew about this a month ago and didn't share it with us?" I was mad, angry, sad, every emotion you could think of. She explained, "I didn't want to scare anyone over nothing if it was non-cancerous. I only told your dad and we shared it with the pastor, and waited until we got back the results to share it with anyone else. You're the first person to know. Don't call your sisters or brother yet. I still have to call them." My mom, healthy as ever, had cancer at age 47.

Honestly, I don't remember much of the conversation after that. I know I asked more questions about what was going to happen next, when her next appointment was, which doctor she was seeing, etc. After I hung up with her I immediately called Patrick. He was out to dinner with other people from the training. I said, "You need to go somewhere quiet. Leave the restaurant and go outside." When he did I broke the news. "My mom has breast cancer." I don't remember what he said, only that I started  crying hysterically again. He was going to go back to the hotel, and book a flight home as soon as he could. He told me to call my friends in Idaho (where we lived at the time) and have them come over so I wouldn't be alone. After I talked to him I needed to call someone else. I was alone at home, hysterical. I called up my friend Deana, who brought over our other friends Sarah and Celeste. When I called Deana I didn't even warm up to it, I just came out and said, "My mom has breast cancer." She said, "Oh my goodness, I'll be right over." She came over with a pizza and our friends. I told them what I knew and we all cried together. Ok, well I was sobbing, but they teared up a little. It was SO great to have good friends there with me to help support me. She offered to stay the night, but I declined. I needed to be by myself to process all of this.

That's when all of the questions started crossing my mind. Christmas was coming up. "Is this going to be my last Christmas with my mom? As a whole family?" We were leaving in 6 days to go to California to celebrate my cousin's wedding. "Was this the last time my mom would get to visit our aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins?" "Is she going to die?" Every bad thought that could, crossed my mind. It's so hard to be optimistic when you don't know what the diagnosis is.

When we got to California my mom had already talked to her two sisters, who had about the same reaction as I did. My cousin who was getting married said "I don't even care about what's going on with my wedding right now. I just want you to be okay" to my mom. Honestly, it was really hard to be happy and peppy at that point in time, knowing what we knew. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but I had a black cloud hovering over me the whole time. The wedding was beautiful and it was great to be with family. I just had to plaster a smile on my face and pretend to be happy the whole time.

When we got back to Idaho, my parents back to Montana, is when the real stuff began. My mom had an appointment with the doctor. She was only in Stage I...that was GREAT news. The doctors said they wanted to remove the cancer as soon as possible, and scheduled surgery for December 5th in Missoula. Patrick and I traveled the four hours from our home in Idaho up to my parent's house the day before surgery. We all went up together, saw her before she went into surgery. As we were sitting in the waiting room I thought to myself, "After today, her cancer is gone. She's free of cancer. It can only get better." I know it was God who gave us all strength that day. We were all in a fairly good mood. She was going to be in surgery for 5 hours, so we went to Ihop for breakfast. I know it seems weird and maybe a little wrong. The doctor told us to go do something, be distracted, while she was in surgery. He personally took my dad's cell phone number in case anything happened, but assured us she would be in good hands. This doctor was amazing. He talked to all of us, made sure we understood everything that was going on, and my mom really liked him. We got back from breakfast and she was out of surgery after another 2 hours of waiting.

We got to say hello to her in her groggy state, but she had come through just find and they removed all of the cancer. Because of where it was on her breast, she couldn't get a lumpectomy. They had to remove the whole thing. Better safe than sorry. She even contemplated doing a double mastectomy but the doctor advised against it. We drove the hour home from Missoula. My dad stayed up there with her. We drove back the next day and saw her in the hospital. She was doing well and was in good spirits. I think she even was cracking a few jokes.

I wish I could say the bad part was over, but it wasn't. After she healed from surgery and was well enough, the doctors wanted to start her on chemotherapy. Her team of doctors decided she needed 6 rounds of chemo, one every three weeks, and would have to take a hormone pill for several years. She had her first round, and of course got sick. Overall she did fairly well with the first round, but as she got weaker, the chemo got more difficult. She would lay on the couch, not able to move. She would eat what my dad forced her to eat. Usually an English muffin, and her plethora of pills. My sister Danielle called me one night crying, saying, "She's so helpless. She just lays there and the only time she can move is when she has to be sick. I can't do anything to make her more comfortable. It's hurts me SO much." 

After each round of chemo, she would be sick for a couple days. After 2 rounds, she went back to work, at a local bank. Her boss was very understanding, and knowing that my mom could absolutely not be exposed to sickness, put her in the back vault of the bank to fold statements that went out in the mail.  She did what she could, and slowly got back into full time work. The first day she worked about 2 hours before she was too exhausted. The next day, 5 hours. 

Of course with the chemo came the hair loss. At first is was in little chunks, but then big chunks. My mom eventually shaved her head. My dad and husband shaved their heads with her :) She got SO much support from her coworkers, church friends and even customers at her bank. They gave her a basket full of soft pajamas (your skin is VERY sensitive when you're on chemo), lotion for the dry skin she would have, blankets, and lots of books to keep her busy reading while she was out sick. She also received wigs from other people. My mom was frustrated with clothing choices as well. She didn't feel comfortable in a lot of things because it showed too much of her uneven chest. She wore a lot of jackets and scarves. I came to visit her one weekend and put together a bunch of outfits for her to wear, and matched them to the scarves she had. After her 6 weeks of chemo, she was finally done. It took several months for her hair to grow back, and for awhile she just had little peach fuzz. My dad made fun of her uneven head :) She had a scan at the very end and they gave her a clean bill of healthy. Officially, all of her cancer was gone!

Throughout this whole process, it was VERY hard for me. I didn't live there, and had a hard time getting away from work since I was a probation officer and on-call 24-7. It was all I could do to not think of the worst. I laid in bed every night crying, and Patrick comforting me. What a heck of a way to start a marriage huh? He was so supportive and always tried to steer my thoughts in a positive direction. And my dad. WOW. He was amazing to my mom. He took care of her, and pushed her to be strong. When she felt like not doing something, he pushed her to do it. Even if it was just walking up and down the hall once to keep her moving he did it. When she could go outside, he would walk with her, arm in arm. When she needed her medication, he was there to give it to her, or to tell her to wait it out another hour until she could take another dose of pain medication. God truly blessed their marriage, and I am so proud to call him my dad. He did an amazing job taking care of her. 

I'm happy to say that my mom is still cancer free, and all of her checkups have been good. So what does this mean for me? Well, my grandmother also had breast cancer about 10 years before my mom did. She had a double-mastectomy, and is still going strong today. She was diagnosed at an early age as well. When I went to the doctor almost 2 years ago and told him about my family history, he recommended I see a Genetic Counselor. I did, and learned A LOT about how breast AND ovarian cancer run in families, and what my options were. We talked a lot about getting tested for the cancer gene. We would need to start with my grandmother, where it originally began. If she had it, then both myself, sisters, aunts and cousins could be tested against hers to see if they held the BRCA gene as well.   The original test is $2,300 and the following tests are $400. If they didn't find it in my grandmother, then they would go to my mom. That test would be $2,300 as well, since they have to find the specific spot in your DNA where the mutation is held. I still need to talk to my grandma about getting this done. In the mean time, my doctor said that normal women start getting mammograms in their late 30's to early 40's. But I would need to start getting them at age 30. I have no problem doing that.

So that's my story everyone.  What infuriated me was that about 2 years ago some big national publication came out saying that women under 50 didn't need to do self-breast exams, because they were being too cautious and it was causing a lot of them to get freaked out over a lump of tissue and having it come back negative. I think that's bullshit. Both my mom and grandma found their lumps from a self-exam. Although that may not be the case for everyone, do what's best for you. I would rather be safe than sorry. I hope this inspires you to be more cautious. Be more diligent about checking yourself. Always be thankful for the loved ones in your life, and tell them you love them.