When I was younger my mom used to tell me I used to ask her "Mama, why am I here?".
That's a pretty loaded question for a small little 5 year old to be wondering, and it's something that has haunted me and excited me for the short 24 years I've been existing here in this world.
I also used to tell my mom that when I was older, I wanted to be an artist. I love to colour and paint and read. Thankfully, I still have those passions as I have the feeling I'm going to need to rely on them in this next upcoming year, as I'm starting to have (more) then a lot of time on my hands.
Let me take a few steps back. Last month, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I can't even believe I just typed that. Me, who works an ungodly number of hours a week, full social calendar, consistently pushing myself daily until I hit my breaking point... you mean...
I have cancer?
I went in to the doctor on my 24th birthday (November 18th will now be so much more then just my sister and I's birthday going forward) after I had found a lump in my chest, and my surgeon told me those dreaded words you just never think you're going to hear.
Sam, it came back as a cancer.
It's going to be okay.
You're going to be okay.
Then there was something about leaving my job immediately, losing my hair, losing my fertility, and undergoing major surgery. I stopped listening around then.
What could have possibly caused this to happen to my seemingly healthy
24 year old body? Was it my lifestyle? (Have I been drinking too much diet coke? ...this actually crossed my mind). I just worked
a month of overnights, for goodness sake!
I am healthy!
24th Birthday! My last "hurrah".
For those that are interested, I have Stage II invasive ductal carcinoma (IDC). This means that it's spread to the lymphnodes under my arms. Luckily, it hasn't metastasized to other parts of my body.
Here's how I can try and summarize the last month for you:
So. many. appointments.
So. many. tears.
So. much. information.
It turns out there's a lot to think about when you get cancer. Firstly, when you're the 0.04% of young women that do get diagnosed with breast cancer at my age and have to go through chemo (.04%... I'm really lucky, obviously!), there's a little thing called fertility you have to worry about.
After two weeks of invasive tests, my oncologists and I decided not to pursue fertility treatments. Breast cancer can test positive for progesterone and estrogen, and mine happened to come back positive for both. It was a little too risky to pump my body with any more estrogen to harvest any baby Sam & Jeffy's. The alternative has been to put myself into a menopausal state, by taking a shot of Lupron before every chemo: it completely shuts down my ovaries to protect them from the chemicals. Fortunately, because of my age and health, there is a good chance I will be fertile when my treatments are done, but there is always a chance I won't. Jeff and I spoke about it and decided this was okay (well, not exactly okay, but you know). I always pictured a little blonde baby girl, a little mini-me, but if that isn't what life has planned for me, Jeff and I have lots of love to give to any baby that comes in to our lives down the road. There are options.
Fertility treatment center selfie. Apparently Jeff thinks that's pretty weird.
We're also in the process of getting the
rest of my body checked out and OK'd for any further spread of cancer. MRI results are pretty bang on, but you can't be too sure. Tomorrow I have a heart scan, I've had multiple biopsies, and I have been through every kind of CT scan you can imagine. At some point, you feel a loss of control: constantly being poked and prodded and just going through the motions.
So far, so good. My bones are healthy. My ovaries are healthy. My abdomen is healthy. The only concern right now are little nodules on my lungs, but I've been told not to worry about those just yet. We're going to check back in 3 months from now and see what they turn out to be.
My biopsy buddies!
Last Tuesday, I started my chemotherapy treatments (I'll write a whole post later down the road on Canada's incredible healthcare system and all of the amazing doctors and nurses I've met along the way). I'm being administered
FEC chemo (click the link to read all of the fun side effects that I'm going to be facing). Did you know that only 10% of people actually get intensive nausea from chemo? This was the biggest shock to me! I was picturing movies like Stepmom and 50/50 and torturing myself thinking of the effects it would have on my body. With this first round of chemo, I'm almost a week out, and the worst of my side effects (so far) were heartburn and just feeling a little..weird. My scalp hurts and my bones hurt. I get headaches often. I'm very tired and I get short of breath easily.
The chemo diet.
There's also something they call chemo brain and it's definitely a thing. I think my blog
"(un)Organized Mind" has a whole new meaning now that I've been
diagnosed with cancer! I couldn't really string sentences together, my
text messages didn't make a whole lot of sense and I don't really
remember the first few days fully. I fully expect my side effects to
worsen as my treatments go forward, but as of right now, it is
definitely Sam: 1 Cancer: 0.
With the FEC treatment, I go in once every 21 days for
chemo. This means that my next chemo treatment is going to be on
December 23rd...Merry Christmas to me? I keep trying to tell myself that
a year of my life isn't a lot to sacrifice in the long run: this time next year I am
going to have the
biggest birthday party and the
best Christmas to make up for it.
My chemo is being administered intravenously, and thankfully they've invented a little thing called a portocath so I can stop getting so many darn needles! It's a small incision and device that's put into my chest, and I can get all bloodwork and treatment through the port. Unfortunately, I had it done the morning before my chemo and it is extremely sore right now. Again, a minor pain in the grand scale, but I would definitely love for my body to speed up with the healing process!
Yikes. Portocath surgery.
What no one tells you the worst side effect (for me anyways) is going stir crazy and anxious. I can't sleep (I wake up at 4AM daily), I can't watch TV, I can't read. I'm so anxious all the time! I guess that's normal and something I'll learn to manage, but going from being so busy to not even having to set an alarm in the mornings has made me quite the Nervous Nelly.
My hair is still holding on for now, but it will undoubtedly fall out by Christmas so I'm just counting down the days at this point. Jeff's dad has set me up with his shaver so I can be ready to just buzz it at the first sight of hair loss (recommended to me by a good friend, shaving it all off can be empowering rather then seeing it all fall out sporadically!). I keep saying "I'm over it" when it comes to my hair but I'm sure it is going to be quite shocking when it happens. Right now I don't look "sick", but without hair, I know it will start to become very real, very quickly.
Pink hair - because, why not?
So, those are my updates! I will need to dedicate a separate post to detail the events that have taken place over the past two weeks (re: fundraising) but to everyone who has sent me all of their well wishes and donations: your support has overwhelmed me and I don't think I can ever say thank you enough. I feel like I owe it to everyone to give you the updates you deserve on how I'm doing, but more importantly, hope that if there is anyone else diagnosed (young or old) with any kind of cancer, breast or not, that you reach out to me because I know how lonely you may feel. I felt (feel) the same way.
"Deep breaths"
I guess if I'm going to end this post, it's going to be with this: my family and I keep saying "you never think this sort of thing is going to happen to you". Just remember: we aren't invincible. You always take advantage of your health until you don't have it anymore. I was the picture of health before being diagnosed. Anything can happen, to anyone, at any age.
I can't lie though, it's pretty scary looking into this next year, knowing I'm about to put myself through hell. I'm trying to tell myself that the answer to "Why am I here?" is that I'm meant to fight this battle, I'm strong enough to beat this, and something good will come of it. I don't know what "it" is yet, but I'm hoping something (anything) will present itself to me.
How I am going to try to remember myself.
I'm going to try to avoid making this a "cancer blog" because that's
so not me. But, I am definitely interested in keeping in touch with everyone I love and this is my easiest way of communication (nothing like cancer to show you how loved you are! ;) ) so check this space if you want to follow along with what I'm up to. In addition, please reach out to me in the comments, find me on facebook, or e-mail me. I'd be MORE then happy to hear from you!!
xx
Sam
