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My Battle...

Breast cancer touched my boobs...

By Katy JonesPublished 6 years ago 9 min read
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Things I have learned over the worst year of my life…

  • If you find a lump, and it doesn’t go away, go to the doctor to have it checked out. Your best friend and your husband will totally agree with this. When the doctor, or in some cases, nurse tells you “you’re too young for this to be anything, but I will send you for a mammogram anyways” don’t believe them. Cancer has no age restrictions.
  • Mammograms aren’t so bad. The squeezing was rough but a little squeezing can be tolerated for the time it takes to get one done. If you haven’t had one, please get one, especially if you feel a lump.
  • The bad part of the day I had my mammogram was when they had to do an immediate ultrasound. To see the big, black spot on the screen was a little ominous. It’s not fun at all for the radiologist to come in and tell you they now need to do a biopsy of the big, black spot. That was scary, but the nurses were nice and comforting.
  • Biopsies suck. They hurt and they leave a giant bruise, but they are necessary to help detect the evil that may or may not be lurking within you. Then there is the waiting. Waiting and not knowing. Not knowing what was in store. Not wanting to tell people what was going on in your head.
  • The absolute worst day of my life was March 17, 2014. I went to work, in green for the St. Patrick’s Holiday, and worked until I had to go to the doctors. I kept telling myself, “I am too young, this is nothing, I will be ok.” Never in a million years would I have thought the words “It's cancer” would come across the doctor’s lips and into my ears. I was completely lost. I sobbed, Matt cried, and he comforted me, like he would continue to do. Leaving the doctor's office, I couldn’t drive. I was so upset. I am grateful that I have family and friends so close to me. That they were able to comfort me, and go have a drink with me, and help me process the whole thing. It's important to surround yourself with positive, loving, caring people. I have that, still, and have gained even more because they care.
  • Deciding whether or not to make your diagnoses public (i.e.- on social media) is a tough decision. It took me a few days to do it because I know once I let it out there, the world would know. In the grand scheme of things, I am glad I did because it helped those that aren't near me see how I was doing, and it also allowed my story to be seen by a lot of different people.
  • Another decision that was hard was deciding to take control and chop my hair off. It was a very poignant moment in my life. I had been trying to grow my hair longer. I think I donated around 13-14 inches when it was all said and done. I had my hairdresser style my new do with pink and it was funky, just like me. I am grateful for her, and for Matt and my momma for going with me on this day, as it was hard on me.
  • Ports are a blessing and a curse all at once. I am quite positive that I was put in some crazy positions in order to get this thing in, and that makes me worry a little about how they will get the sucker out. I hurt for a while after it was put in, but didn't have time to really heal because my next step was coming... CHEMO.
  • Things they tell you about chemo but I am not sure they truly allow people to grasp is that it causes you to be sick, like really, really sick, and regardless of which type of chemo you have, you will be sick in one way or another. I have never in my life felt like I was dying more so than when I was going through my rough weeks of chemo. I am sure everyone has different experiences with it, and this is basically just my opinion, but it truly sucks the life out of you (or pukes, poops, snots, or any other bodily fluid you can think of). You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you can’t go out in public (eww germs), you can’t swim, and you can’t do anything. They pump you full of poison and send you on your way for you to suffer. I guess it's a necessary evil, and don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have done it and had a positive result because I know that things could have turned out differently. But it sucked, except the sweet nurses in the infusion center, and the cookie lady on Fridays—they were nice. I hate that I still have to have some chemo, albeit not a "bad" one, but still have to go get hooked up every three weeks until July.
  • Blood Transfusions and hospital stays. When you're sick and you feel like no one is listening to you, don't tell your husband that, just don't. He took me to the emergency room, it was bad, and I don't think I had eaten in a week or so. I couldn't eat—the chemo made me that sick. The bad part wasn't him taking me; it was being there in the hospital, with all those other sickly people. I ended up with more issues than I had when I got there. And I had a rude nurse, just one. The others were excellent, but just the one tainted my experience. I had to have two blood transfusions while I was there. Now, if you know me, you know I am a vampire-o-holic, but this, this getting someone else's blood, it was too much for me. It completely grossed me out, completely. I don't think it helped that I could see the blood creeping up the IV into my port. And then to find out the blood I got only really elevates my white blood cell levels like two points just didn't even seem like enough. I did name the bags Frank and Mary (ha-ha, Bloody Mary). They will forever be in my heart, literally.
  • Vacations are tough when you are going through chemo. They are really almost non-existent. I did get to go camping, and by camping I mean we rented a cabin with A/C and a bathroom. I feel sorry for my boys, though, as this really ruined their summer, but I don't think they ever complained (at least not to me). If they did complain I can claim “Chemo Brain” made me forget, 'cause that is a real thing.
  • Telling your doctor you are going to refuse treatment because you are done with being so sick is ok. I did it, I told him no. He told me he would change the dosage to see if that would help me cope better, and it did. We compromised, him and I, and low and behold it was for the best. He pushed me to finish at least one full cycle of one type of chemo, in this case the red devil. I am so glad I did. I wasn't happy at the time, but today I am glad I did.
  • Surgeries, and losing your boobs… It's one thing to be told you have cancer, and another to go through treatment, but it’s a whole new world when you lose your breasts. I have always been well endowed in the boob department, but I had to decide how to chop them off, whether it be a lumpectomy, unilateral mastectomy, or bilateral mastectomy. I debated for a long time, but ultimately decided that bilateral was the path I would take, and in order to get even slightly close to what I had, the plastic surgeon suggested Lat Flap with implants. Sounds easy, but it's not. I now have a scar that almost goes completely around my body, like parenthesis. The recovery was hard, the limitations on my movements are still there, it hurts all the time, but I am so very glad that I did it because in doing the bilateral, I saved myself having to go through radiation treatments.
  • Now, post surgery for me has been the most emotional part of my battle. It’s very hard to look in the mirror, to see the scars, to see my port, to know I survived, but at what cost? I am not me anymore; I am a new version of myself. Some days I don’t like the new me, some days I do. Some days are good, the foobies don’t hurt as bad, and the scars don’t feel like they’re stretching. I almost feel normal. But there are days when everything hurts, everything feels broken, and I just lose myself in the dark parts of my head. I don’t like those days, at all. I try to give myself pep talks on those days, but most times I just grin and bare it because that’s what I am supposed to do. Emotionally the battle is still raging within me, and I have to work on that every single day.
  • Blood Clots, ahhhh. It seems like every time I get to feeling “normal,” something happens. I woke up to a swollen arm and hand, thinking, “Hmm this isn’t right.” Went to work, as normal Katy would do, had a doctor’s appointment for my Herceptin so I figured I would ask the doc what’s up with my hand. Now, I had been dealing with the crud that is going around, already completed a round of antibiotics for a cold, so I figured it was probably nothing major. Well, when the nurse drew fluid from my vein instead of blood, and then proceeded to tell me not to “Freak Out,” I did what any sane/crazy person would do. I freaked the freak out. They still accessed my port, still gave me my Herceptin, but sent me to the vascular radiologist to get it checked out. Oh, and just as a precaution, they went ahead and started me on a blood thinner. Now I am taking blood thinners for 21 days and have to go back at the end of the month to be reevaluated. I hate cancer. Really, I do.
  • The forbidden topic of Death. No one talks to you about it, but it’s a lingering notion in your mind when going through this. It is definitely the cause of many of my sleepless nights. I worry, still, that I am not ready to die. I don’t have my sh*t together. I need to be here for my boys and my husband. But I know that I don’t get to choose when I go, that is not my decision to make. I believe that I am here for a reason. I am not quite sure what that reason is, but obviously God has something planned for me.

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