The Metastatic Breast Cancer Journey
Stories of Hope with Action Items for Survival
It was the summer of 2013 when my mom got the news that she had breast cancer. We were shocked and concerned since we had no known family history. She and Dad assured us that it was going to be okay; it was small, not aggressive, and could be removed. She had a lumpectomy and then started 21 days of radiation. We live eight hours apart, so we checked in often on the phone to see how she was doing. She was tired frequently, but came through smoothly.
A very dear friend, after hearing about my mother’s breast cancer, told me the difference between successful people and unsuccessful people is in the questions they ask. Unsuccessful people ask: “Why? How? When?” Successful people only ask, “What next?” That really stuck with me. I needed to be successful with my mother who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. A few months passed by slowly. My friend’s words repeated in my head, so I decided to share them with my mom. With this new line of thinking, we continued through the process of doctor’s visits, check-ups, and the works. Things got better.
My story with breast cancer began more than nine years ago when I was hired as the Executive Director for Susan G. Komen in Houston. I was excited to lead Komen Houston because I believe access to quality healthcare is a basic human right. At that point I had no personal experience with breast cancer. Fast-forward six years and I was working at Susan G. Komen in Colorado.
It was the summer of 2013 when my mom got the news that she had breast cancer. We were shocked and concerned since we had no known family history. She and Dad assured us that it was going to be okay; it was small, not aggressive, and could be removed. She had a lumpectomy and then started 21 days of radiation. We live eight hours apart, so we checked in often on the phone to see how she was doing. She was tired frequently but came through smoothly.
“You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” ~Isaiah 26:3 ()
No one wants that call from the doctor: “You have cancer.” It is a life-changing instant. Immediately your mind considers questions you never wanted to ponder. Can I fight this? How will this affect my family? What if I die? And a million others come to mind. However, it is also an opportunity to truly test your faith and trust in God.
“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
I thought I was close to God. But when I received the diagnosis of invasive ductal carcinoma in my left breast, fear gripped me like a vice. Deep down I always thought it could never happen to me. I was healthy and I did everything right like my doctor recommended. My fiftieth birthday was just four days away, and I asked “why me?”
I was just recouping from adrenal cancer in June 2013 and I decided it was time to get my mammogram. I was surprised to be diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma of the breast. Two cancers in one year! How could I muster the strength to go through this again? But I did. I proceeded with the prescribed treatment. I had chemotherapy, a lumpectomy, radiation, and later breast reconstruction. I fought like a warrior. It was challenging and very difficult at times, but I got through it.
Ever since my diagnosis of cancer it seems like I have become even more self-absorbed than usual. I was sharing this with a friend when she shared a funny story by Joyce Meyer, a minister and conference speaker. Joyce would wake up in the morning with a lot of negativity. She would rehearse how bad she had it. That sounded familiar. I was intrigued by this story, so I looked her up on YouTube.
“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” ~Mark 11:24
From the time I can remember, “acting as if your prayers had already been answered” was my mantra. Since childhood, visualizing a positive outcome and working toward it was my goal. Once I set my mind in that direction, the fear always dissolved because God was in the plan and I believed.
The one treatment I had feared the most was radiation. I pictured all kinds of negative images: a loud machine, a sterile cold room, rushed preoccupied staff, pain during the treatment, debilitating side effects during treatment that would hinder my ability to work and take care of my family, and long-term side effects.