survivorship: 1 year!

You know, I've never asked my doctor what he measures survivorship by. Is it when the cancer was physically removed from my body during my mastectomy? Or when I finished chemo exactly one year ago? I like to go by when I was completely FINISHED with all things treatment related. So I'm basing my survivorship on when I finished chemo a year ago.

So what has happened in the past year? A lot of soul searching. A lot of re-building. A lot of praying. A lot of helping others. I have dedicated myself to reaching out to other young women who have been diagnosed. I've made it my mission to make sure they know they are not alone, and that they will be JUST FINE. To me, that is the most important part of my life now: God using me as a faithful servant to serve others in need. During my treatment I witnessed the love of Jesus in real-life through the women that helped me through. So it is my honor to do the same for other women now.

Living life as a survivor is a delicate and confusing journey. There are so many things that should be "normal" again that unfortunately are not. Learning to step outside my comfort zone and work on my insecurities has been a huge challenge. But with the love & support of friends, and through much prayer, I've successfully gotten to this point by the gift of troubled grace.

Along with a lot of spiritual growth has come the exciting growth of my hair. Guess who has a cute, new (& normal) haircut now?! I could not be any happier with my new 'do!  

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

  Deuteronomy 31:6

Happy Hair-aversary

Wow. I seriously cannot believe it has been a year since I shaved my head. It feels so long ago, but it also feels just like yesterday. Time is such a tease like that!

Unfortunately (& fortunately) this is the one and ONLY reminder that I had cancer. Most days that word doesn't even enter into my mind anymore-- hallelujah! But when I walk past a mirror and I catch sight of this short hair, it's a glaring reminder that yes, you did have cancer. You lost your hair, you were bald. I hate that it's a constant reminder, but I'm getting better about accepting it.

I just wanted to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone who has complimented my short hair over the past year. It has meant SO much to me, and you'll never quite understand what it's done for my psyche. I've literally had to rebuild my self confidence back from the ground up-- something that has been so foreign and painful for me. This hair growth journey has taught me patience and humility in the most extreme ways possible. I've said it before and I'll say it again: losing my hair was way worse that undergoing a double mastectomy. That was hidden and can be concealed. Hair is such an outward sign of who you are; public for everyone to see at all times. I know people say it shouldn't "define" you, but to me, it really has.

So here's to 10 months of growth (it didn't start growing back until I finished chemo in April). Here's to funky hairstyles, faux hawks, and fun hair products. Here's to many more months & years of growth to come!

And just for laughs-- I found a picture of my new hair meme. Until now I used to think it was a Justin Bieber style, but I'm happy to report I'm feeling more like Carol Brady everyday ;)

defy the odds

When I made the decision to pursue fertility information, I literally had NO idea where to start. Until now, my trust had been 100% in my oncologist. To make a deliberate leap of faith and go against his advice has been a huge challenge for me. Once I was able to separate my emotions from my diagnosis, I methodically decided to move forward on my own.

Ironically enough it was Twitter that provided me with a path to start on. I follow many breast cancer organizations and research groups on Twitter. One of them posted about the new Basser Research Center in Pennsylvania. It is the first & only BRCA1/2 research center in the United States and just opened this fall. I could not believe it -- a research center just for my specific problem. If nothing else, it gave me HOPE for my daughter's future {as we will not know for many years to come if she is a carrier of my same mutation}. I decided to go out on a limb and email the executive director. I gave her the cliff-notes version of my case and asked for some {any} fertility advice. I didn't really expect her to reply, but felt better knowing I'd shared my story with someone who has the ability to make a difference & help others like me. Much to my amazement, she replied:

"Anne,

Thank you for your email.

I am out at a conference, but will call you by the end of the week. Neither your breast cancer diagnosis nor your BRCA2 status alone is a contraindication for future pregnancy."

I must've spent a good 10 minutes just staring at that email in complete disbelief. Was this really happening?! A nationally renowned expert in my specific case was telling me not to be discouraged. Well she kept her word and called me the very next day. After a 30-minute long conversation, her final words to me were emphatically "You WILL have another baby". I thanked her profusely for her time, hung up, and collapsed into a pile of sobs. It was such a relief to release those tears; bitterness, confusion, and hurt that had built up over the past year. I could not believe what I had just heard-- finally, a ray of HOPE! Someone giving me good news. Not just anyone, the expert with intense knowledge in the subject. To me she was a guardian angel sent by God.

Her advice to me was to seek out a second opinion from a colleague of hers that she trusted. She told me that when she got my email while at the conference , she then stepped into an elevator and ran into this colleague she had in mind to refer me to. She proceeded to tell him about my email and said she'd be sending me his way. Is that not at God thing?! I don't think it's a coincidence. So I met with this other oncologist at UT Southwestern in Dallas. He echoed in her same sentiments that it would probably be okay to attempt a pregnancy after at least 2 years. His words to me were "Well no one wants to get breast cancer, but if you're going to get it, you had the best case scenario". Again, more hope. 

In addition, my gynecological oncologist admitted to me she could not give me any answers regarding fertility {as it is not her expertise}. She agreed to put in a call to an OBGYN at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Hospital in New York. His expertise is women with the BRCA mutation & pregnancy. She presented my case to him and his advice was to wait 2 years, but that I was probably ok to carry a pregnancy. His recommendation was to meet with an RE to discuss the best way to attempt to get pregnant.

This led to a consultation with a reproductive endocrinologist to look into my current fertility situation after having been through chemo. Apparently my body is nothing short of a medical miracle because after every test was run and every procedure done, I am in complete working order to get pregnant. Everything is working just fine!

So the bottom line is: it's not a question of CAN I get pregnant, I can. It is more a concern of taking the {unknown} risk of carrying a pregnancy and what that could mean for a future recurrence of cancer. Unfortunately that is where I fall into a gray area-- there is little to no research for my circumstances. 

That's where faith steps in and takes over:

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

-Hebrews 11:1 

Month 9: Hope

"One of the secrets of life is to make stepping stones out of stumbling blocks" -- Jack Penn

The past month has been a very eye-opening one. I had a random stranger contact me, via a mutual friend, because she was 29 yrs old and had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. She'd been led to my blog and was reading up on all that she'd need to know. I cried while reading her email to me, and all I could say in my head was "Thank you, God". Thank you for bringing her to me. Thank you for showing me that this is what my journey was all about -- helping others through their own battle. She's no longer a random stranger, she's a new sister to me, and I am so blessed to be able to give her hope her through her journey.

About this time last year I was told that I could not preserve my fertility and I should not ever try for another pregnancy. At that time I was running on adrenaline and fumes and had no decision making abilities left in my head or heart. So I just went with the flow. Well now that that battle has been won and is long over, I am now focusing on overcoming another obstacle: having another baby. If you know me, you know how persistent I am; I don't take no for an answer. I have spent the past few months researching, educating myself, and reaching out to experts/specialists/doctors to seek advice for my future. I have received A LOT of positive information and encouragement. Hope that I can - and hopefully will - someday have another child of my own. It is actually less risky that what was originally presented to me; however there is definitely still a small risk in becoming pregnant. But I have renewed hope in this process through all that I have learned. I truly believe that God is now leading me faithfully through another journey so that I may continue to trust in Him and His plan. I have no idea what the end of this will look like, but I know that He will guide us through it just like He has once before.

And of course I have to update my hair -- 9 months post chemo. It is now finally long enough to highlight (with foil!) Trivial, I know. But exciting to me nonetheless! It is starting to look more like an intentional haircut - albeit a "mini bob", but it is definitely feeling more & more normal to me!

And just to top this month off, I love the fortune from my fortune cookie tonight. It pretty much sums up what my {new} journey is all about. I refuse to back down until every door is otherwise shut! I will keep fighting!

Month 8: the "new" me

With my 30th birthday approaching soon, it feels good to feel like a "new" version of myself. I'm finally feeling more confident with my hair thanks to a cute, spunky new style. It actually looks like an intentional hair-cut/style instead of  the "post-chemo-growth-fuzz-mess".

(excuse the no make-up)

I am still taking my AG Pro vitamins like crazy-- it's 6 pills a day. So surely they're doing some good with this hair growth!  I'm really hoping that by the time February 20 rolls around (the day I shaved my head) I will have a cute bob style! I can't wait.

And to go with my cute new hair style/celebrate my 1 year "cancerversary"/and 30th birthday, I recently purchased some Frye boots and I absolutely love them! Bought new, they're worth a pretty penny, but I lucked out and found a 1970s vintage pair -in excellent condition- on Etsy! The Gisela & Zoe Vintage Shop has some amazing vintage clothing at awesome prices. I even got this adorable polka dot blouse from them too. Check out their clothes, you won't be disappointed!

The "new" me has also found hope again, thanks to some amazing doctors who have listened to my case and given me their expertise. I've been seeking out second opinions about my future treatment & care and have received a lot of positive feedback. I'm not sure I'm ready to share all of it yet, as I'm still sorting through all of it and praying about it. But it sure is awesome to have hope in the future again, something I haven't felt in quite a long while.

"For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
    for my hope is from Him. 

 He only is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall not be shaken."

Psalm 62:5-6

Happy Birthday to my blog!

In keeping with my theme of one-year "anniversaries", one year ago today is when I first started this blog. I had no idea what I was doing, how much I planned to share, or if I'd even continue to update during my treatment. I just wanted everyone to know the facts as we learned them, and I knew we couldn't do it alone. We needed the love, prayers, and support from our loved ones and thanks be to God, we humbly received them.

Thank you to everyone, those we know, and those who are complete strangers, for reading my blog for the past year; for all the comments, "likes", and support.

And all I have to say is I am SO GLAD November is over! Hallelujah I survived it. And guess what, the battle year of 2012 is almost over too. In just a few weeks it will be a brand new year with brand new promises. Plus, my 30th birthday is in just a few days. I've never know another person so excited to turn 30-- I can't wait to see what awesome blessings are in store for a new decade!

"You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."
Psalm 16:11

Cancer-versary

I find it so ironic that some days I can barely remember what I ate for lunch, yet I can remember the exact moments &  precise details of other certain days. November 23, 2011, the day I was diagnosed, is one of those days. I remember it clearly as if it literally happened yesterday. The brain is funny like that; holding on to traumatic memories for reasons I'll never understand.

That day started out so innocent & fun -- it was "spouse simulator day" at my husband's work. He had the day off and I got to be the one to wear the flight suit into work and play in the flight simulator with other spouses. We had such a great time! 

  

A few days prior I'd had my breast biopsy done and was anxiously waiting for the doctor's office to call with my results.  When I got out of the simulator (we had to turn our phones off), I had a missed call from the doctor. I hurriedly called them back thinking I'd receive my "all clear". Instead, the receptionist said "Oh I was just calling to remind you of your follow up appointment." Gee thanks! I told her I needed to know my biopsy results and she replied "The doctor will be calling you with those". In that moment, I knew. My heart sank and my stomach dropped. I was immediately nauseous. Why would the doctor have to call me himself if it wasn't bad news?

Hours went by, I prayed, I still felt sick, I was scared and anxious. 5:00 came and went with no call from my doctor. Thanksgiving was the next day; was he really going to leave me hanging over the long holiday weekend?! At 5:30 my phone rang and it was him. He apologized for the late call, but said that he wanted to finish up his day's work before he called me so he could give me his undivided attention. He then said "Well I'm very glad we decided to biopsy it. What you have is indeed a small breast cancer tumor". All I remember after that was everything going hazy. Cancer?! Cancer. My worst fear in life had been confirmed. I felt like I was falling, like the ground was yanked out from underneath me. I couldn't talk or listen after that, and my doctor could tell I was losing it. He asked to speak to someone else so I handed the phone to my husband and cried out with all my might "I have cancer!". And then I fell on the floor in a crying mess. He spoke to the doctor and got all the details because I was in no shape to understand anything at that point.  I remember that I just wanted to disappear; I wanted everything bad to just magically go away. I couldn't believe this was MY life and it was happening to ME. It was so surreal like a horrible nightmarish dream. 

Later that night after the fog had lifted, I spent hours googling breast cancer. I had no idea what I was facing and as a Type A Planner, I needed to know. I wanted details. I wanted a plan. Even though there was still so much uncertainty about my diagnosis, it gave me comfort to learn more about what I was up against. And boy did I learn. [There is a lot to learn about breast cancer!] I felt better after doing my research and made a decision that night to fight this with every fiber of my being. I distinctly remember saying to my husband "I don't know why this is happening to me, and maybe I never will, but I know that one day I will pay it forward to another young mom who is in my shoes. Maybe that's why God is preparing me for this battle". And I still firmly believe that a year later. We agreed to fight together, for our family, and for our future. And fight we did.

It's been a crazy year -- I've literally been to hell, and back. And now that I'm back, I'm better than ever: cancer free and in the best shape/health of my life! I still feel a little angry when I think about the things that cancer robbed me of, but I think a small fire burning deep in your gut is good for your soul. It reminds me that I fought for my life and with no intentions of backing down. It also reminds me that I beat it, and leaves me with a kind of "take that, cancer!" type of attitude. If you know me, you know that is totally my personality ;)

So today, there were no tears. Sorry breast cancer, but I've cried way too many tears over your lousy existence. Today is a day of celebration; a day of happiness & health. It marks an entire year of inner strength I never knew I had. We enjoyed a beautiful day as a family and then the hubby and I had a fabulous date night to celebrate what a momentous journey we've overcome together!

 

Of all the scripture verses that got me through the past year, this one in particular is my favorite. Even through my suffering, God offered up troubled grace which led me through my battle. And not only did He help me overcome it, but He's restored my soul and renewed my faith along the way. All the glory be to Him!

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." 

-1Peter 5:10

*The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you*