MY HEALTH CHALLENGE
In October of 2021, I found a lump in my left breast via a self-examination. I was 38 and had been diligent about my yearly gynecological exams, but I was two years shy of the recommended age to begin mammograms. By November of 2021, I had my first mammogram, and I was diagnosed with stage IIB breast cancer.
WHAT I DID
My initial approach to the diagnosis was fear and stubbornness, honestly — fear of the impacts to my children and fear of the unknown. A cancer diagnosis, despite the stage, comes with many unknown variables. There was stubbornness in that I don’t like labels and hate predictive indexing even more.
Once the dust had settled and the results were confirmed, I began researching. I read anything I could find to prepare my mind – and more importantly, my body – for the challenges ahead.
At the time of the diagnosis, I was an avid runner, so my mind was set on moving forward physically and mentally. I wanted to set the example for my children so they didn’t see their mom stop living because of this.
From March through July of 2022, I received 14 rounds of chemo, along with 30 rounds of radiation from September to October of 2022. I’ve also gone through six surgeries between 2022 and 2023. My breast cancer was fueled by estrogen, so I will be on medication for the foreseeable future to help decrease the chances of a recurrence. I’m two years from diagnosis and, so far, disease free. I pray not to have a recurrence but want to keep my body in a healthy enough state to ensure if it must fight again, it can do so.
THE HARDEST AND MOST REWARDING PARTS
The fear of the unknown has been the hardest part. At the beginning, I was afraid the chemo would prevent me from running or being present for my children. This ended up being an unnecessary fear, I ran 300-plus miles during chemo and 100-plus during radiation. My oncologist supported my every step and encouraged me to continue doing things that made me feel like myself. I would wear a baseball hat (to hide my obviously bald head) and run as far as my body would allow. I was there for my children and worked during treatment.
The most rewarding part was watching how resilient my children were through this journey; they and my husband were my biggest cheerleaders.
MY ADVICE TO OTHERS
Be open and honest with your medical team. If you are struggling with any aspect of your treatment or diagnosis, speak to them. I had an amazing medical team that helped me through each phase of this journey.
The one thing I regret is not finding a support group. Enduring this alone, even with a supportive tribe of people, is difficult and lonely. Having someone there who knows what the experience is like makes a difference. I inadvertently found this group of women during radiation, but not during chemo, and it made going through radiation a bit less scary.
WHAT LIFE IS LIKE NOW
This experience made me realize just how fast life can change with one scan or lab result. I don’t allow the “small stuff” to stress me out as much anymore. I don’t want to spend my time worrying about insignificant things.
My proudest moments are my post-treatment races. While in chemo, I planned race-cations and I ran two half marathons: one in Guntersville, Alabama, and one in Panama City Beach, Florida. I trained throughout treatment, and I wanted to show my family and myself that I could persevere. The memory of seeing my kids and my husband at the finish lines will forever hold a special place in my heart.
I won’t lie; you don’t come back from two years of difficult and life-changing decisions the same person. I’ve adapted, to some degree, to the ebb and flow of this journey. The longer my hair grows and the further I get from active treatment, the more I feel the memory loosen its grip. But the fear is ever present and something you learn to live with. When I feel that fear, I remind myself that I can cope, I can pivot and I can fight because my family is worth fighting for.