That one time I had breast cancer 2.0

I created this blog when I was initially diagnosed with Breast Cancer in March of 2013.  I wanted a place to share my thoughts and the goings-on of my treatment so I didn't have to retell how my day went 27 times.  The funny thing, is that I totally forgot I even created it.  This is a great example of "chemo brain."  I suppose that working full time, being a full time single mom and getting full time cancer treatment hindered me from starting the process.  I wish I would have now....but there is no going back, so I have decided to start recording things - mostly so I have somewhere to get my feelings out, but also as a journal for my kids and family.  I have tried multiple times to write in a journal, but never follow through - it just seems too cumbersome and time consuming to write especially if I have episodes of my favorite shows that need to be watched... :)  Really, I have no excuse except it is becoming more difficult for me to write as my hand turns into a balloon due to the lymphedema I've developed as a result of having a mastectomy followed by 25 rounds of radiation.  This is called "late effects", or all the complications you get following breast cancer treatment.  This is a whole different post though...

So, here we are.  Breast Cancer 2.0.  I was only hoping to know what Breast Cancer 1.0 was - not that anyone hopes to have cancer, but if you have it, you only want it once. I remember the long talk I had with my Oncologist, Dr. Litton very distinctly on April 3, 2013.  He told me that I was still young so they were going to "throw the kitchen sink" at me to get rid of my inflammatory 10cm breast tumor that had turned my world upside down. Hence, the double dense doses of chemo that gave me horrible mouth sores, nausea, vomiting, shingles, fingernails and toenails that fell off, a bald head, blisters on my feet that turned into cellulitis and sloughed off, extreme fatigue, neuropathy, pain, and hot flashes. Next would be a painful surgery to remove my right breast followed by 25 days of radiation that also gave me painful burns that would ooze, bleed and slough off.

 Once my skin had healed I underwent a 9 hour reconstruction surgery that required 12 weeks of recovery.  I think it would have literally been less painful to actually throw a kitchen sink at me when thinking back on this experience.  At the time of diagnosis I was staged at IIIB - which is a skosh away from stage IV -the worst of the worst. At that time having been a pediatric oncology nurse for close to 20 years, I knew this was not ideal.  I remember at the end of the appointment asking "so what happens if I relapse?"  I know I can always get an honest answer out of Dr. Litton.  He doesn't skirt around the issue or ever sugar coat anything - I like that, but sometimes don't want to hear it. He said, the goal of treatment the first time is to cure it.  If it comes back, at that point it is a matter of containing it and the goal is no longer a cure.  That statement stuck out to me like a sore thumb.  I remember thinking "boy, I better not relapse!"  And I had no intentions of it.  After all - breast cancer is very treatable, there is so much research out there and advances that are amazing...there was no way it was coming back.

Fast forward to November 24, 2015 - 2 days before Thanksgiving.  I was meeting with a different Oncologist, Dr. Northfelt at the Mayo Clinic in AZ as I had moved my little family for a new adventure in a different state because my cancer was gone and I wanted to live closer to my sister who has been living in AZ forever. (Robyn if you are reading this, now it is your turn to move back to UT!) I had been coughing on and off for a couple of months, nothing alarming...just a dry annoying cough.  All of a sudden it just got worse.  I let my Oncologist know I was going to see my Primary Care Physician because of this cough and wondered if there might be some type of late effects from the radiation to my chest that would cause asthma or something.  He immediately sent me to get labs for valley fever and a chest xray.....which led to a chest CT,....which let to a PET scan...which told me the cancer was back in my lungs, sternum, several vertebrae, sacrum, pelvis, pubic bone, and hips. This disease in my bones has brought a new level of pain I haven't experienced before.  Surely this wasn't my scan...I was cured...I had moved on with my life, moved my family to a different state, was slowly remembering what it felt like to me normal.  How could this possibly be my scan?  I remember being so mad...angry...livid.  How could I have possibly endured something I thought would break me, and the treatment didn't even work?!?!  I have been so mad at cancer, so mad it was back to infiltrate and infect my life again, so mad that it will shorten my life, so mad that it is something I will have to think about every day for the rest of my life, so mad that it will rob my children of a mother to be here for them, so mad that I have to have more needle sticks, more chemo, more side effects, more fatigue, more of a burden on others.  I'm not the type of person to be mad for very long, but as I type this I realize that I'm still very angry about this situation.  I know my heart will change, it is going to take some time.  I'm so blessed to have so many friends and family members that have been so supportive and helpful, and I'm especially blessed to know that my Savior knows exactly how I feel.  He knows the feeling of my heavy and broken heart. He has suffered every pain I have experienced.  Because of Him I know there will come a time when I won't feel pain anymore and won't have to experience the wonderful side effects from chemotherapy.

Be brave, my heart. Have courage, my soul...

Tiffany