In March 2016 I
received a letter in the mail reminding me to make an appointment for my yearly
mammogram. I had been having routine
mammograms every year since I turned 40, so this was just another appointment I
needed to make and take time for in my busy life of being a wife, mom to four
kids, fulfilling a new calling in my church, and teaching part time at our
local university. I’ll admit, I put off
making the appointment. I was busy, and
honestly, what was the mammogram going to tell me? The radiologist was going to say everything
is normal, see you next year, so I stuck the letter in a stack of papers and
forgot about it. I WAS going to make an
appointment eventually, that was for sure, because my beautiful mother gave me
a piece of advice when I was younger.
She said, “Kara, when you turn 40 you need to get a mammogram every
year. Get a mammogram.” I always do what
my mom tells me to do.
In April I was cleaning the house and ran across a stack of
papers and found the letter reminding me about scheduling a mammogram. I was coming up on a break in between
semesters and thought that this would be an opportune time to make an
appointment. It was more than a thought, really, I believe it was a prompting
for me to schedule a mammogram. I felt a
bit of urgency. Mammogram day came and
went and I patted myself on the back for getting it done. Over the week break from school I was
enjoying a beautiful spring day working in the yard with my husband and I
received a phone call from the radiologist office saying I needed to come back
to get some more views taken. Okay, that
has never happened before, but alright.
I go in, with my husband this time, and get the images taken and nurse
asks us to wait for the radiologist because he wants to speak with us. He proceeds to tell us that the images from
my mammogram this year have significantly changed since last year. What does that mean? Well, for 65% of women it doesn’t really mean
anything, but just to make sure we want you to have a biopsy to see if it is or
is not cancer. Cancer…..
I went the next day for a biopsy. The radiologist went into great detail about
how a biopsy is preformed, but for the sake of a long boring description, I
will shorten it a bit. Back in the day, a patient who needed a breast biopsy
would be put asleep during the procedure.
Now, they just numb the area to be biopsied and take the tissue samples
needed. No big deal. I had two areas in my left breast that needed
to be biopsied. Though it was not
exactly fun, I will take this kind of biopsy over being put asleep any
day. The biopsy was on a Thursday and
we had to wait until Monday to get results back from my doctor. That was a long weekend. My husband and I told my parents on Sunday
night about everything that was going on, and of course they were very
upset. As we talked, I rattled off some
statistics that the radiologist had told us and was trying to be positive and
hopeful that these masses that were found in my breast were benign.
Monday came and almost went when I received a phone call
from my doctor’s office asking us to come in because the doctor wanted to speak
with us. My heart sank a little. Why couldn’t he just tell us the good news
over the phone? You know, I am totally
fine with that. Nope, we need to go
in. When we arrived, Chris and I were
escorted into a room. The doctor comes
in and sits pretty much as far away from us as he could, then proceeds to tell
us that the test results show that I have breast cancer…. All of these
questions start running through my head.
What does that mean exactly? I am
starting a new semester teaching two classes tomorrow, am I going to be able to
teach? I feel normal. I am only 45 years
old, what are you saying? I have breast
cancer? I remember him explaining and
saying words like surgery, lumpectomy, and mastectomy. He told me acronyms like DCIS and others that
I had no idea what he was talking about.
I only heard BREAST CANCER ringing in my ears. My next thoughts were about my kids and how
were they going to take this news? How
are Chris and I going to tell them that I had cancer? I felt sick inside. We left the doctor’s office and got into the
car and I lost it. I bawled, big ugly,
huge tears bawling. Crying like I have
never cried before. Sitting in the car
with my husband that day was one of the lowest points of my life. I have never felt so sad and scared as when I
was told that I had breast cancer.
Following my diagnosis there was a flurry of tests and
appointments with my oncologist, surgeon and plastic surgeon. It was a hurry up, get all the tests done as
quickly as possible and then wait. It
was excruciating. We waited, and waited, and waited for test results. It was a
very difficult time. Throughout the
waiting period it was discussed that I would, at the very least, have a
mastectomy on the breast that had cancer.
After the test results telling us that the chance of cancer occurring in
my right breast was high, the decision to have a bilateral or double mastectomy
was made. My breasts would be
removed. I still couldn’t believe it, it
was so strange. This happens to other
people and to other families, not mine.
That was a pretty naïve point of view.
Since my diagnosis, I have been humbled by the stories of MANY, MANY
women who have gone through this hell. I
must say that I have truly felt a spiritual side to all of this. Maybe that is why I feel compelled to write
down and share my experience. Before my
mammogram I didn’t feel any lumps, I didn’t have any pain, there was no
indication that I had anything wrong with me.
I was prompted by the Holy Ghost to make an appointment, NOW, to get a
mammogram. Following that prompting
saved my life, or at the very least prolonged it. I was diagnosed with DCIS breast cancer on
April 18th 2016.
On June 29th 2016, I had bilateral mastectomy
surgery to remove my cancer. With my
surgeons and oncologist, Chris and I decided that I would have what is called
immediate reconstruction. At first, this
nomenclature is a little misleading.
Immediate reconstruction consists of tissue expanders inserted under the
chest muscle which ‘holds a place’ for the actual implants. The expanders are then, over a few months,
filled with saline to stretch the muscle to make space for the implants. My tissue expanders and I have a love hate
relationship, they are hard and uncomfortable and shaped funny. I don’t like them very much, but I need them
to be there.
We had an appointment with my surgeon a week and a day after
my mastectomy and I was feeling good and positive about how my recovery was
going. We walk in the office and he says
that he is confident that all of the cancer was removed. The margins look good, everything looks good,
but there is some news. Pathology found
five undetected tumors in my tissue, unrelated to my DCIS, two of which were
invasive. Before my surgery, my left
breast was filled with cancer. What did
you just say? What are you talking
about? What do you mean there were five
tumors we didn’t know about?
Invasive? That was not a part of
any of my diagnosis thus far, I don’t understand. I honestly don’t remember what all he said
after the tumor conversation, but I do remember with perfect clarity when he
told me not to be surprised when my oncologist recommends chemotherapy just to
make sure that all of the cancer cells will be gone. I left his office just as sad and confused as
the day I was told I had cancer. For
three days I mourned the news about needing to have chemo. I was only supposed to have surgery and
reconstruction and that would be it. No
chemo, no radiation. I DID NOT WANT
CHEMO! I would lose my strength, my
appetite, my hair. Not my hair! I love my long hair. I have had long, beautiful hair for over 25
years and I didn’t want to lose it. And
to top it all off, I would be losing my hair just when my oldest daughter would
be coming home from being gone for over 18 months serving a mission for our
church. I wanted to look like me when
she comes home. But that was not the
plan and I was devastated.
A little side note about my missionary daughter, Eden. Throughout all of this she has been a rock
and has strengthened my faith and hope.
I told her at the beginning of her mission that she is my hero. I looked to her when things got hard for me
knowing that she herself is doing hard things, and I can have the strength to
do hard things too. She has taught me
many things over the last 18 months she has been gone. I have missed her so much, especially since
my diagnosis.
I have gained strength from my other family members, friends
and neighbors as well. Our children at
home have been so great to help out and be there for me when I needed
them. I have been surrounded by friends
and people who care for my family and me.
I am truly blessed and humbled by the love, all of the love. Angels have been sent to me from
heaven. Chris has been by my side every
step of the way. He has been to every
doctor’s appointment, slept in my tiny hospital room because I didn’t want to
be alone with a less-than-nice night nurse, given me my meds, and pretty much
attended to my every need. I love my
husband, my angel. My parents have been
fantastic! They both came and stayed
with us for two weeks while I had my first surgery and recovery. They took such great care of my family and me
while they were here and continue to care for me. I love them, they are my angels. “C….” is one
of my best friends and just so happens to be a wonderful oncology nurse. After my parents, she is the one who I told
first. She has answered so many
questions with patience and care. I love her, she is my angel.
I started chemotherapy treatments on August 8, 2016. I will have 6 rounds of chemo and then continue Herceptin infusions for a year. Each treatment is three weeks apart. This will be a big part of
my life and I have accepted it. I feel
blessed. I have felt our Heavenly Fathers
and Savior’s love for me throughout this trial.
I have felt peace in times of pain, strength in times of uncertainty,
and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the knowledge I have been given of
their love for me. I have hope and faith that I will be healed. I already am.
