Kicking Cancer’s Ass: The Beginning
This is reposted from my personal Facebook, when I shared with my friends that I was diagnosed. If you haven’t read anything I have written before - warning: I use bad language. I can put sailors and truckers to shame. I like to think of it as part of my charm…
On March 5, I got the call I had been waiting for, after a month of imaging appointments and a biopsy, but not the news I wanted. When the word Malignant pops up on a test result in your MyChart app, its shocking. Stunning. Terrifying. But there that word was, staring up at me. Malignant. I have breast cancer.
It is small (0.5 cm), not aggressive (Grade 1), and early stages. As far as we can tell right now from MRI, it has also not spread beyond the tumor that was originally discovered by mammogram so likely Stage 1. The best news that I could hope for...other than it not being cancer.
My family history, well, sucks. I lost both my parents to cancer, my mom to breast cancer specifically. I have aunts, great aunts, and 2nd cousins that have battled it - some winning and some unfortunately lost. Cancer is a jerk.
Right now, I have a really good prognosis. Today I started genetic testing to determine if any genetic mutation may have caused my cancer or may cause cancer in the future. Next Monday, I sit down with my surgeon again to work on my treatment plan and any additional consults I need. Right now, treatment may be just a lumpectomy and radiation - none of the intense measures that I've watched others endure. So I am hopeful but cautious until I get my first round of genetic tests back next week.
While having cancer is not something anyone wants, I know I am extremely fortunate. I have access to amazing health care that spotted this small abnormality so early. I had an angel sitting on my shoulder, whispering in the radiologist's ear to pay attention to the tiny spot and send me for more testing and then for a biopsy. I have an amazing support system of friends and family (family by blood, family by marriage, and my Township and work family). Plus I can’t say enough about my understanding and supportive clients and partners who will give me the flexibility I need in my work to tackle this all.
Not everyone who gets this diagnosis is as lucky as me. I am quite confident that I will kick cancer's ass. And make it regret ever making itself at home in my chest. Mark and the boys are doing well with it - we've had quite a few talks and have been totally open with the boys. And they are all quite confidant that Mommy will kick cancer's ass as well.
Cancer touches everyone's life in some way. It has touched mine many times and is making itself known again. While I know I will be fine (have I mentioned I'm going to kick cancer's ass?), I have spent some time in all this thinking of everyone that didn't get the chance to say they won their battle. So for my family, friends, and family & loved ones of my friends that have struggled in their battle or lost the fight, I'm thinking of you all and miss you. And for all of you reading this that have lost someone, I'm thinking of you too. Cancer. Just. Sucks.
I was scolded in 2017 for a post that was deemed unladylike. Someone who clearly didn't know that as a woman in a male dominated field, I tend to use more colorful language. But that same post has been running through my head for the last month. And all I can say, once more, is:
Fuck Cancer.
I'm working on my own way of attacking my cancer, and helping others win the battle as well. More on that soon. But for now - I'm fine. I will win. And let's all work to kick cancer's collective ass so no one has to see the word Malignant pop up in their diagnosis and be afraid.
Yours in Cancer Ass-Kicking,
