The Power of Positivity: Surviving Breast Cancer
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. We’re sharing survivors stories.
“...but I’m going to be able watch my girls grow up, right?” This was my tearful plea to my doctor when she called with my biopsy results on November 17, 2017. The news was unlikely, but not completely unexpected. I was a healthy 33-year-old with no notable risk factors. I exercised regularly, maintained a healthy weight, didn’t smoke, and didn’t drink. Heck, I even avoided coffee! There was one risk factor, however, that loomed over me: genetics.
My mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer six months earlier, and because of this, I had become more vigilant about checking for breast lumps. Also, she suggested I submit a saliva sample to a genetic testing company. My dad’s mother and sister both died of ovarian cancer at a young age. This is often associated with a mutation in the BRCA gene, which has gained much more awareness thanks to celebrities like Angelina Jolie and Christina Applegate, who have the mutation. While awaiting my BRCA testing results, I discovered a small lump in my left breast, and because of my family history, I chose to undergo a biopsy procedure rather than wait for six months to see if there was a change. Ironically, I received my genetic testing results, showing I did indeed have the BRCA mutation, the day AFTER I was diagnosed with cancer. Regardless of gender, those who have the BRCA mutation have a 50/50 chance of passing it on to each of their children. My grandma passed the mutation down to my dad, who then passed it on to me. I listened intently as the genetic counselor called to explain that my non-working BRCA gene gave me a 50-85% chance of getting breast cancer within my lifetime and a 40-60% chance of being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. You can imagine her surprise when I responded, “Well, that certainly explains some things. I was diagnosed with cancer yesterday.”
What followed was a series of appointments, phone calls, and gut-wrenching conversations with friends and family. I maintain that the most difficult period was the few days between diagnosis and an appointment with my oncologist. I have always been a person who loves a plan. Give me a task, and I will complete it with flying colors. I had never received any grade other than an A in school. Surely, I could ace this assignment too. My plan was an aggressive one. My oncologist, who I affectionately call “The Medical Mr. Rogers,” ordered a double mastectomy, 16 rounds of the most “brutal” chemo there is, and a complete hysterectomy/oophorectomy. While daunted, I knew I was as fortunate as anyone. I had excellent doctors and a support system second to none.
My treatment was not without challenges. My white blood cells dropped to critically-low levels after my second treatment, which led to a bacterial blood infection and a five-day stay in the hospital. All said, the other side effects from chemo were quite manageable. My compromised immune system didn’t allow me to continue working as a school librarian, but the fatigue and nausea were minor.
People often ask me how I kept my positivity during such a trying time, and I always respond the same way. “It’s the only way I know how.” I’ve always been nauseatingly positive. My family is used to this. So when I asked my dad and husband to do a victory pyramid in the hospital before my mastectomy (that had been postponed for 14 hours), they obliged.
Our girls, ages three and six at the time, seemed to adopt the same outlook. Lucy, our youngest, provided comic relief with quotes like “Mom, put a hat on, will ya? Your bald head is starin’ at me!” Our older daughter, Emmie, gave us a glimpse into her mindset during a recent conversation about positivity. My husband said, “It’s important to choose your outlook. Just look at what Mom did when she was diagnosed with cancer. She’s a great example to us.” Em quickly retorted, “Yeah, but it could have been much worse. It’s not like she broke her leg or something. That would have been really bad.” While I secretly wanted to defend my bravery and resolve, I was tickled pink that she had seen my cancer diagnosis as far less serious than a broken bone.
I am now nearly three years out from that devastating phone call. I am healthy, happy, and acutely aware of my blessings. I am a member of Silver Lining, an active group of local breast cancer survivors who provide lots of support and education to help us live our best lives. I encourage all women, even young women, to be proactive about their breast health. Talk to your doctors about your hereditary risk and advocate for appropriate screenings. Knowledge is indeed power. With that, I gotta run. Because, guess what? I’m watching my girls grow up...just like I had planned.
