Did you know that October is Breast Cancer awareness month? Did you know that my friend Rachel over at a Southern Fairytale is donating all of her October ad revenue from clicks she gets from readers clicking here?  Did you know my other friend Misty at Rainy Day in May is donating her October ad revenue from the clicks she gets when readers click here? And yet my other friend Steph is doing this great giveaway..

Did you know my Mom, my hero, is a Breast Cancer Survivor? (twice-first time diagnosed at 47)  I asked my Mom to please share her story with my readers.  Please help give my Mom a warm welcome as this is her very first blog post ever!  I Love you Mom, you are the strongest, most beautiful women in the world. 

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Hello everyone, Kim's Mom here... Kim has asked if I would write about my breast cancer experience and I said I would. I am a survivor as is my younger sister who was diagnosed 6 months after me. I will try and share with you the ups and downs of how I fought and continue to fight this. Not everyone may like the way I chose to handle this and I am not trying to offend anyone, but if it offends you, I am sorry, but this is how I get through it day by day. I’m also trying to condense it as best as I can .

1997...After trying unsuccessfully for 2 years, a doctor finally listened to me when I told him that I had pain in my left breast to where there were days I couldn’t even get my bra on. Breast cancer is not supposed to hurt, so I’m told. One doctor, who was the TOP breast specialist (female) on Long Island told me, “drink decaffeinated drinks, you must be drinking a lot of caffeine”, yes this was actually said to me. She never even looked at my x-rays or sonograms that I had. Then for a 2nd opinion a different doctor told me “you have big breast so have a breast reduction & you’ll feel better”. I swear those were his exact words. I wrote to the Medical Board on both of these doctors and got nothing back from them.

When the doctor who finally heard me told me to get a biopsy (which hmmmm, let me see, came back POSITIVE!!!) I had to have a lumpectomy after that & I had positive lymph nodes so I had to have chemo and radiation & I was in Stage 2 Breast Cancer. There are only 4 Stages.

Trying to figure out how I was to tell my daughters was another dilemma. I found out while I was at work. When they did the biopsy it was on a Tues. and the doctor’s office had called me on that Fri. wanting me to come in ASAP. Now the ASAP appointment was 2 weeks away (my reg. dr. was on vacation) so I told them I wanted to speak to another doctor, which they said was not what they do & I told them to put a doctor on NOW! A doctor did talk to me & was very sorry to say that I had cancer. I asked him what I do next, he said, “see a surgeon”, which I did, thereby getting the lumpectomy. Oh, I also stayed at work after hearing the news.

I had gotten my daughters together one night & if I could have bet on their reactions, I’d be rich. Kim blew out of my house crying, (she did come back) Amy tried to cry (another whole story) and Jenny was in the “are you sure” mode. They all pulled together for me & it was still very difficult for them. Telling my parents was even more harder. They cried, I cried & then we went to lunch. The way I told my sister who I live with was really funny. We were having dinner (me, my sister & my b-i-l) and she says “have you heard anything from the doctors”, I say “oh yeah, I have cancer” and we continue to eat & then start laughing. You had to be there.

My chemo was the highest you can have, the CAF cocktail. CAF means : cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan); doxorubicin (Adriamycin); and fluorouracil riamyocin.  This literally knocked the shit out of me and I became very good friends with my toilet. Someone should invent at least games you can play in the toilet, while your head is stuck in the toilet . I also landed in the hospital 6 times & my chemo cocktail was during a 4 month interval.

My hair fell out basically at the last chemo blast & I was bald for like forever. Wigs were out as I had a reaction to the cap inside them, it irritated my scalp to where there were boils on my head. Bandana’s and hats worked well and then just plain baldness, which I got used to.

Radiation was next. 37 treatments. I’m radiated 37 times on my LEFT side, my heart is on the LEFT side. My heart gets damaged from this and I also get a really bad burn under my breast. My heart is only 37% of the ejection fraction. My dad’s was 47% & he’s in his 70’s. Hmmmm…I think something is wrong with that picture. I’m also back to work & I have this green glow about me.

No, only kidding. I’m exhausted at work but I don’t give up. I’m too young to sit home and feel sorry for myself. I finished all this shit and then my world is blown upside down. My younger sister is now diagnosed with breast cancer. She has 3 young children and I cried more for her than I did for myself. I cursed God because if anyone was to get anything it was ME, I can handle anything most of the time, ask Kim, she knows. I tend to carry the world on my back all day long. My sister is Stage 1, only small amount of chemo, and no radiation, but she has to have one breast removed.

We both get through this. We survive.

1998...I thought I beat this with all the shit I went through but that wasn’t the case. I didn’t even make a year anniversary & they found another “new” cancer in my right breast. Now this is amusing. I had to see a different surgeon who happened to be in the group of the “I think you have big breast” doctor. When I go see him, my letter to him and the Medical Board falls out of my file. This is the HEAD surgeon of the hospital & he told me, “don’t worry about this letter, I know what it said & the doctor was put on notice from the Medical Board AND this doctor”. Holy Shit. Someone nailed his ass.

Anyway, I have to have my boobs removed. I don’t need them, they are in my way so the doctor thinks I’m going to have to go to counselling before this decision, but I told him, “just take them off & call it a day”. I don’t have reconstuction, looked too painful. Can’t have no more chemo because it would be too harmful for my heart. Now that’s funny. My dad’s ejection fraction is STILL higher than mine!!! I go back to work, still not giving in, even though I was told not to work. Stubborn. Now I’m passing out every now & then & my face is twisted with left sided paralysis but I still push on.

1999...oh forgot to tell you…I couldn’t take the tamoxifen, another reaction, so they had to give me a complete hysterectomy this year. I’m estrogen positive. So basically I think I gave myself cancer. This is how I’m thinking these days.

2000...repeatedly passing out, know all the nurses & techs in the hospital on a first name basis & I’m having TIA’s (mini strokes) they think. Turns out, the chemo/radiation combo opened or agitated my “hole in the heart” which the doctors said “ I was born with” . I played sports growing up, I was basically a tomboy & I was never sick. Baffled the doctors. I should have had a quiet childhood because of the hole.

I was born in 1950, they didn’t have these tests in 1950. How the hell do they know if “I was born with this” !!!!!!!!!!! I have the hole repaired and instead of being in the hospital for this “simple” procedure, I’m in the hospital 3 weeks. Yep, had a reaction to the meds & surgery. Now I’m told “you can’t have any more heart surgery, EVER ! your heart is way too weak now”…Thanks ! I needed that. So I still continue to land in the hospital with more TIA’s and a minor stroke, which was supposed to stop when I had the hole fixed, but it doesn’t.

This is where I am today. All through the time I was diagnosed with breast cancer I had gone to a support group. They were great. I’d recommend this to anyone. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay. I made good friends through this.
I also have a very warped sense of humor & in order to get through some terrible days I’d do things that would drive my daughters and family bonkers or if my daughters were down in the dumps I’d cheer them up this way. I’d put my prosthesis on backwards and walk around like that all day. When my sisters and I would get ready to take a picture, I’d say “2 boobs here, 1 boob here & no boobs there”…we’d get a good picture. When I was bald, I’d try and make a wish come true if you rubbed my head. I’d also put my boobs on my head and say I was from outer space. I’d call myself a “he-she”. Some days I wore my boobs, some days I didn’t.

I am also a walking cross. My scars go across my chest (boob surgery) and down from my neck to stomach (heart surgery), so I guess I’m “blessed”. The best is when a new doctor or nurse sees me, they gasp. Every 2 years I get different size prosthesis. I have every size now.

Well, that’s about it. I hope you got to the end without getting bored. Breast cancer is serious. Every person who has it deals with it in their own way. I got through all of this by always making a joke out of everything. I cried when I would think about what I gave my daughters. I cry when I’m alone so no one can see me. Tears are refreshing. You can survive but sometimes other doors open up while you’re battling it and it causes more problems. The token statement for that is, which I get all the time is “you’ll never die from the cancer, it’s everything else you get from it”. I have lost friends from breast cancer & other cancers.

The other fact that I know is that we all know how our bodies are. Most of us are in tune with what goes on. For everyone, listen to your body, if you don’t feel right, see a doctor. If the doctor says it’s all in your head, find one who will listen and go that next mile. Don’t wait for the 99th hour. We were raised in Manhattan, my sister lives in Scarsdale, she is the health food freak, I’m not. My mother didn’t have cancer, my older sister and younger brother are fine.

I’m the first “history” for my family. Cancer doesn’t care where you live or who you are. Cancer does not know color. I’m on my daughters asses every 6 months because they have to go get checked because of me. I’ve been cancer free for 10 years now, and so has my sister. I try and have a normal life with everything else that is destroying me inside. I’m exhausted 100% of the time, but I’ll rest when I’m dead.

I try to give my grandsons a good memory of me so they can say, “gee wasn’t grandma fun when she did this, or that”. And when I’m not feeling good, the oldest ones get scared, but I tell them I’m just taking a break & I’ll be fine. Their smart, they know when I’m lying, but they go along with me anyway. My daughters and family know how much pain I go through, but I still just try and be normal. They have their memories & maybe a giggle will pass through them when they remember something they see or hear after I’m gone. I’m not going anywhere yet so I can still burn a memory or two into their heads.

I’m still fighting, I’m still a frequent hospital flyer & I’m still SMILING.