The days that followed were such a blur. I felt like I lived at the Dr’s office.
My biopsy follow-up appointment made it all too real. I sat in the waiting room beside my mom tapping my fingers on the side of the chair and checking the time every five minutes.
Once my name was called, I gathered my things and instead of another waiting room, I was led down the hallway to a conference room. I sat at the head of the table and my mom sat beside me.
The Dr. immediately started rattling off things like: “chemotherapy, mastectomy, invasive ductal carcinoma, fast growing tumor and stage 2.” I sat at the head of the table quiet. For a minute I could see her mouth moving, but I had checked out.
At the end of everything she asked if I had any questions. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and when I opened my mouth to speak…those darn tears again. Did she just say I had stage 2 breast cancer and I was going to have to have mastectomy?
I was overwhelmed. The more I tried to process what she had just said, the more tears came streaming down my cheeks. Every time I thought I had pulled myself together, there was another tear and another until I finally stopped long enough to ask what was next?
I was given an appointment to have an MRI done…
Was this really happening? I thought as I laid in the machine with headphones on listening to the loud banging. I had never had an MRI in my life, but I quickly figured out why they asked if I was claustrophobic.
I laid there still with my eyes closed, trying not to think about the IV in my arm and the tight space. When it was over, I was told my results would be sent to my Dr.
A few appointments later I found out there wasn’t just one tumor like we were initially told. The MRI results revealed that there were 2 tumors on my left breast and a lymph node under my arm.
I was told the Dr. wanted to start chemo immediately to begin trying to shrink the tumors, followed by a double mastectomy. After weeks of appointments and still trying to process everything, I was just glad there was a treatment plan in place.
Operation kick cancer’s butt was in full effect.
I've always believed that we tend to be the most effective in areas where we have been the most affected. It's often our deepest pains that draw us closer to our purpose. Those words never really hit home until I was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer at the age of 28. I had watched both my mother and grandmother battle the disease, but never thought I would find myself in the same battle, especially not so young. I've learned through this journey that it's not what you go through, but how you go through it. I wanted to share my story in hopes that it will inspire someone to keep fighting, keep the faith and live on purpose.