How Did I Get Here?
This is a question that comes up a lot when someone first learns that I am "dying", "sick", "metastatic", "CANCER GIRL", etc. How in the world does she do it? Do ya wanna know how? I DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE! Let me go back and tell you how this all started.
In November of 2016, I found a lump in my left breast. I honestly didn't think too much of it because I was 36 years old and shit like cancer couldn't happen to ME at such a young age....right? WRONG! I will spare you the monotonous outline of doctor appointments (fertility, genetic counseling, plastic surgeon, surgical oncologist, radiation oncologist, etc). When shit came to shit, I was told that I had early stage breast cancer and that I would need a mastectomy. Immediately I said - cut em off! I assumed that would be that. But it wasn't just that simple. I needed to be on a medication called Tamoxifen for at least 5 years, possibly 10. Now mind you, I was 36, no spouse, no children. In 10 years I would be 46 and there wouldn't be a bone in my body that would want to wait until I was that old to be a Mama. Then and there was one of the only times that I cried and wished I had someone with me to mourn what I always assumed would just happen when it was "my turn". We spend so much time trying NOT to get pregnant and then life goes by and, before ya know it, you're 36 and facing some crazy shit.
OK, so my original diagnosis date is January 24, 2017. I was sitting on my couch, just hanging out with my dog, Dink. I had not anticipated a call regarding the results of the biopsies for at least 24 hours (there were actually 2 lumps and an entire quadrant of my left breast that was affected). So when I received a call and heard the Radiologist's voice, I immediately started shooting the shit with him, asking about his day and such. I truly did not expect to get any bad news via phone. The Radiologist had to stop me mid sentence to tell me these exact words - "It's not good, kid." I think I stopped breathing for a minute and just listened to words....lots of words. I was alone, except for Dink, and all I could think was - How the f**k do I have cancer? Am I going to die? How do I tell my parents (as if I had done the worst thing in the world and shamed them)? I knew that if I called my Dad, my Mom would be upset (because she would want to know first). I also knew that if I asked to see them together to talk, they would think I lost my friggin mind (I am the worst at seeing people in general). So I called my Mom first and told her. I apologized to her for disappointing her -she could not have been more understanding. I was thankful for this because, as much as I love her, my Mom gives me anxiety. It's just a fact. I then called my Dad and had to tell him over the phone as well. I always wanted to see my Dad be a Grandpop to a child of my own and, the reality was that it would never happen. If I were to die before my parents, it would kill them. The immediate feeling of guilt was all too consuming. But, as history would show, I was always hard on myself. I had to be the best kid and the overall best "whatever" to prove that I was going to be someone one day and make something of myself. I could not focus on my previous accomplishments (Bachelors and Masters Degrees) - my future was not going to be full of vodka and butterflies and that reality fucking sucked.
My Surgical Oncologist was fairly confident that none of my lymph nodes were affected, meaning the cancer would have been contained solely in the breast. I went in for my double mastectomy (I opted for both breasts) on March 8, 2017. During the surgery, the doctor also performed what is known as a Sentinel Node Biopsy. It should be fairly obvious that we were shocked to learn that I had 13 lymph nodes removed and of those 13, 11 of them were positive. All of this meant that I actually had Stage III Breast Cancer and, in turn, it was more aggressive. We discussed chemo, radiation, etc. but I still needed to have some scans to show if the cancer had moved anywhere beyond the lymph nodes. On March 23, 2017, I had the first CT of my abdomen, chest, and pelvis, along with a full body bone scan. Once again I opted to go it alone because that is just the kinda gal that I am. I am honest with myself and I face things head on - win or lose, I will always give it my all.
The next day, my Surgical Oncologist, Dr. Dahlia Sataloff at Penn, was kind enough to follow up with a call to me to see how I was holding up after my scans. She explained that the cancer was in my right hip and my L2 spine. I still had no clue what that meant. Was I a walking time bomb? Thank goodness I was meeting with my ever so joyful and smiley Dr. David Mintzer at Pennsylvania Hospital for the first time that SAME DAY. Now, keep in mind - this was our first ever meeting (wouldn't you think you would meet your Oncologist first? In hindsight it actually makes sense now). I had my friend Jessica with me because it was suggested to bring someone to take notes because it is A LOT! Boy was I grateful that I utilized that advice because I really needed her to repeat everything we heard because, although I was physically present, I was not even close to being mentally in the building (if ya know what I mean).
The first thing I asked Dr. Mintzer for was....A HUG :) I knew that we were forging a long term relationship so he had to "bring it in", if you will, so that we could begin building that bond. The next thing I asked was "When am I going to die?" He looked at me and said "probably not for many years." That was the first time that I ever heard that I indeed had Stage IV (Metastatic) Breast Cancer. WHAT THE FRIG WAS METASTATIC? All I knew was that when someone had Stage IV cancer, they were good as dead. So, in my head (I'm always thinking), I'm like - do I start smoking cigarettes again, try some crack, blow every penny on fabulous vacations, whore it up...WHAT??? It's true! Unfortunately, I have yet to do any of that (BORING, I know); instead I sat with Jess in her car and drafted a long text explaining my disease and how I planned to just quit my job and live. I had no idea how I could make that happen but it was what I wanted to do. I wasted NO TIME locating many resources and learning about Social Security Disability and the Compassionate Allowance - there is a 6 month waiting period to receive SS Disability BUT the Compassionate Allowance affords those with "terminal" illnesses to be approved fairly immediately. UGHHHHHHHH, so much to take in while still healing from having my breasts, my beautiful breasts, removed just a few weeks prior.
How did I get here? Where do I go from here? All I know right now is that I am living. I may not be "living" the way you think I should be but I love my life. I love being able to relax in my home and feel comfort. I love having a roommate that was the first person I told face-to-face immediately after receiving my diagnosis and she STILL sticks by me, amidst all of my craziness. I love having friends over and playing games. I appreciate the quality time spent with those that I love. I love going to sporting events and concerts. I am blessed in so many ways. You may always see me with a smile and wonder "How does she do it?" The simple answer is - What is the alternative? I'm from Darby Township and my family didn't raise no punk!
All love - KEEP LIVING YOUR DASH!
Andy xoxo
In November of 2016, I found a lump in my left breast. I honestly didn't think too much of it because I was 36 years old and shit like cancer couldn't happen to ME at such a young age....right? WRONG! I will spare you the monotonous outline of doctor appointments (fertility, genetic counseling, plastic surgeon, surgical oncologist, radiation oncologist, etc). When shit came to shit, I was told that I had early stage breast cancer and that I would need a mastectomy. Immediately I said - cut em off! I assumed that would be that. But it wasn't just that simple. I needed to be on a medication called Tamoxifen for at least 5 years, possibly 10. Now mind you, I was 36, no spouse, no children. In 10 years I would be 46 and there wouldn't be a bone in my body that would want to wait until I was that old to be a Mama. Then and there was one of the only times that I cried and wished I had someone with me to mourn what I always assumed would just happen when it was "my turn". We spend so much time trying NOT to get pregnant and then life goes by and, before ya know it, you're 36 and facing some crazy shit.
OK, so my original diagnosis date is January 24, 2017. I was sitting on my couch, just hanging out with my dog, Dink. I had not anticipated a call regarding the results of the biopsies for at least 24 hours (there were actually 2 lumps and an entire quadrant of my left breast that was affected). So when I received a call and heard the Radiologist's voice, I immediately started shooting the shit with him, asking about his day and such. I truly did not expect to get any bad news via phone. The Radiologist had to stop me mid sentence to tell me these exact words - "It's not good, kid." I think I stopped breathing for a minute and just listened to words....lots of words. I was alone, except for Dink, and all I could think was - How the f**k do I have cancer? Am I going to die? How do I tell my parents (as if I had done the worst thing in the world and shamed them)? I knew that if I called my Dad, my Mom would be upset (because she would want to know first). I also knew that if I asked to see them together to talk, they would think I lost my friggin mind (I am the worst at seeing people in general). So I called my Mom first and told her. I apologized to her for disappointing her -she could not have been more understanding. I was thankful for this because, as much as I love her, my Mom gives me anxiety. It's just a fact. I then called my Dad and had to tell him over the phone as well. I always wanted to see my Dad be a Grandpop to a child of my own and, the reality was that it would never happen. If I were to die before my parents, it would kill them. The immediate feeling of guilt was all too consuming. But, as history would show, I was always hard on myself. I had to be the best kid and the overall best "whatever" to prove that I was going to be someone one day and make something of myself. I could not focus on my previous accomplishments (Bachelors and Masters Degrees) - my future was not going to be full of vodka and butterflies and that reality fucking sucked.
My Surgical Oncologist was fairly confident that none of my lymph nodes were affected, meaning the cancer would have been contained solely in the breast. I went in for my double mastectomy (I opted for both breasts) on March 8, 2017. During the surgery, the doctor also performed what is known as a Sentinel Node Biopsy. It should be fairly obvious that we were shocked to learn that I had 13 lymph nodes removed and of those 13, 11 of them were positive. All of this meant that I actually had Stage III Breast Cancer and, in turn, it was more aggressive. We discussed chemo, radiation, etc. but I still needed to have some scans to show if the cancer had moved anywhere beyond the lymph nodes. On March 23, 2017, I had the first CT of my abdomen, chest, and pelvis, along with a full body bone scan. Once again I opted to go it alone because that is just the kinda gal that I am. I am honest with myself and I face things head on - win or lose, I will always give it my all.
The next day, my Surgical Oncologist, Dr. Dahlia Sataloff at Penn, was kind enough to follow up with a call to me to see how I was holding up after my scans. She explained that the cancer was in my right hip and my L2 spine. I still had no clue what that meant. Was I a walking time bomb? Thank goodness I was meeting with my ever so joyful and smiley Dr. David Mintzer at Pennsylvania Hospital for the first time that SAME DAY. Now, keep in mind - this was our first ever meeting (wouldn't you think you would meet your Oncologist first? In hindsight it actually makes sense now). I had my friend Jessica with me because it was suggested to bring someone to take notes because it is A LOT! Boy was I grateful that I utilized that advice because I really needed her to repeat everything we heard because, although I was physically present, I was not even close to being mentally in the building (if ya know what I mean).
The first thing I asked Dr. Mintzer for was....A HUG :) I knew that we were forging a long term relationship so he had to "bring it in", if you will, so that we could begin building that bond. The next thing I asked was "When am I going to die?" He looked at me and said "probably not for many years." That was the first time that I ever heard that I indeed had Stage IV (Metastatic) Breast Cancer. WHAT THE FRIG WAS METASTATIC? All I knew was that when someone had Stage IV cancer, they were good as dead. So, in my head (I'm always thinking), I'm like - do I start smoking cigarettes again, try some crack, blow every penny on fabulous vacations, whore it up...WHAT??? It's true! Unfortunately, I have yet to do any of that (BORING, I know); instead I sat with Jess in her car and drafted a long text explaining my disease and how I planned to just quit my job and live. I had no idea how I could make that happen but it was what I wanted to do. I wasted NO TIME locating many resources and learning about Social Security Disability and the Compassionate Allowance - there is a 6 month waiting period to receive SS Disability BUT the Compassionate Allowance affords those with "terminal" illnesses to be approved fairly immediately. UGHHHHHHHH, so much to take in while still healing from having my breasts, my beautiful breasts, removed just a few weeks prior.
How did I get here? Where do I go from here? All I know right now is that I am living. I may not be "living" the way you think I should be but I love my life. I love being able to relax in my home and feel comfort. I love having a roommate that was the first person I told face-to-face immediately after receiving my diagnosis and she STILL sticks by me, amidst all of my craziness. I love having friends over and playing games. I appreciate the quality time spent with those that I love. I love going to sporting events and concerts. I am blessed in so many ways. You may always see me with a smile and wonder "How does she do it?" The simple answer is - What is the alternative? I'm from Darby Township and my family didn't raise no punk!
All love - KEEP LIVING YOUR DASH!
Andy xoxo
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