Hi, I've been a member here for awhile. This is my first time posting. My name is Jennifer. I'm going to be 31 in three days.
I've been toying with the idea of finally retelling those years before, during, and after of my bout with cancer. Many of you have gotten snippets of what I went through, how it changed me, and know the current person I am today. Or at least, you know my Cafemom screen name, posts, and what I've already revealed about myself.
Not many really know all the details of those years. I've never really just sat down and typed it all out. Mainly because I thought people would get bored with it. At this time, I've had some wine and decided to write it out and let the cards fall where they will.
Some of what I will share is certainly bash worthy and will bother others, I'm sure.
It really started in 2004 when I got pregnant with my middle son Ricky. I was living up in Alaska with my husband, Richard. I was a CNA and we lived in a rinky dink little apartment that had two bedrooms. During my pregnancy, there were signs that something wasn't quite right with me. The pregnancy itsself was healthy, my baby was healthy. Something was *off* with me. I am very inwardly intuned with the mechanics and functionings of my body. So when I say "off", I mean that I had this nagging suspicion in the back of my mind. Well, around the middle of my pregnancy, I woke up to my nightgown being soaked with blood. The blood was coming from my right nipple. There was so much that I thought I needed to go to the ER, but was too afraid of what the doctors would say.
I finally took one of my blood soaked shirts into my OB/GYN - she was civilian (DH is Air Force). I was on Denali Kid Care (Medicaid) and Tricare Standard so I could see this specific Ob/Gyn and wouldn't have to see the doctors on base. This part is important. She was alarmed and had me get a breast ultrasound. Nothing showed up on the ultrasound at that point. By then, it was 2005 and about a month before I was due.
I had my son, Ricky, in March 2005. He was a whopping 10lbs 5 oz and 23 1/2 inches long and very healthy. After he was born, the bleeding ceased, but then pain started making life very miserable. My Ob/Gyn was still concerned and told me she wanted me to get a biopsy done.
Medicaid ended (it was only for during my pregnancy) and I was forced to go see the doctors on Elmendorf AFB, AK. They didn't listen or care what my civilian ob/gyn said. They didn't believe I needed any further testing. Brushed it off as PMS, salt, or caffeine related (the pain and bleeding).
The pain continued and around July my husband was deployed overseas. I put the issue on the back burner and ignored it. I remember taking Ricky into JcPenney's one day for a little shopping trip. It was October and before my husband was due to come back. I came across a breast cancer awareness display, and something hit me. I started crying.... I felt like this was what was going on, but I felt crazy for thinking that. It couldn't be.
My husband returned home, and the symptoms kept getting worse. The pain and fatigue was awful.
In January 2006, my uncle was found to be dying from lung cancer. I decided to step forward and help care for him, since I was the only one in my family that was capable of doing this. He called me "the baby", because I'm the youngest. Symptoms of my cancer kept getting worse. I knew something was wrong, and kept going back and forth to the doctors. I also had endometriosis I was dealing with. Along with all these other issues, my oldest son was abandoned by my ex husband. He acted out so badly. At 6 years old, my son was exhibiting some very serious and severe depression that no 6 year old should ever have dealt with. I had to admit him into a children's mental hospital because of my fear he would hurt himself.
As some of you know, this was also the year I aborted. My doctors kept trying to throw different birth control at me and it was all such a mess. Everything, I knew medically I was ill but didn't know why.
In July of 2006, my uncle died. I was in the hospital because I was in so much pain. In my neck, under my arm, my chest, and my back. I wasn't there the night my uncle died because I was in the hospital. The doctors couldn't figure out the source of my pain. So, they threw pain killers at me and released me.
In September of 2006, we were sent/PCSed to Dover AFB, DE. The pain was unbearable. I finally went to Planned Parenthood to see if they could discover anything.
Finally - ONE of the ob/gyns there finally discovered swollen lymphnodes under my right arm. She sent her findings to my PCM (primary care manager) at Dover AFB Medical Clinic. The doctor that I saw, took it seriously and referred me to my general surgeon. She ordered an ultrasound, and then an ultrasound guided biopsy.
Through all of the testing process, and meeting with the radiologist, I got lots of very encouraging words from everyone. Saying I was too young, it's usually just infected ducts that cause these problems.
I'll never forget the day that my surgeon called me in. December 8, 2006 - she brought me into the exam room, looked at my breast that was incredibly bruised from the biopsy. I was in a lot of pain from that, but overall in good spirits. Afterall, the doctors and radiologist all told me it couldn't be cancer.
I sat there, swinging my legs back and forth, she enters the room with a very solemn look. Her nurse is behind her, standing there with an ominous look on her face. My doctor asked if I was there alone. I thought that was a strange question. I told her "no, my husband and kids are out in the car". She turned and told her nurse to go get them. Still, the thought didn't enter my mind. She looked under my arm and breast area, and commented on a mole I have there.
Her next words will haunt me for the rest of my life.
"it's cancer".............
I could only blink and looked at her with confusion and fear. My husband and my two boys came in and I looked up at my husband and he knew. He knew without me saying anything.
That night, which was my husband's 31st birthday - was the most difficult. I called and told my dad and tried to call my mom but she wouldn't answer her phone. She already knew because I had told my sister first and my sister told her. So my mom shut me out because she was retreating within herself as well. She went to the casino and played slots for the rest of the night.
My husband and I sat there and just looked at the floor. he called his mother, and I'll never forget this - his mom answered the phone and he just choked up. He looked down at the floor, and erupted into sobs.
"mom....Jen's got cancer". He didn't cry when we first were told, he didn't cry at all..until he heard his mother's voice. I saw this tough man break down into body wracking sobs at the sound of his mother's voice, as he told her about my diagnoses. It broke my heart to see this. but I knew he needed his mother and her support. I let him have some privacy as I went into my room. I sat on the bed looking at various DVDs to watch.
I finally settled on Lord of the Rings - Fellowship of the Ring. That series was to be my comfort through some of the darkest nights. I tried to get together a cancer team, but quickly found out that Dover, DE had very few experts that I needed to attack this disease aggressively. I moved my care to Johns Hopkins
Christmas 2006 was difficult. My family gathered that Christmas and it was very solemn and quiet. My brothers all came to visit, my parents... it was a very sad and difficult time. I cried a lot and cursed out God. Why me. Why is this happening to me. I'm too young. What if I die? I am not ready to die.
December 2006 and January 2007 passed in a blur. In February 2007 I met with my team of doctors.
Dr. Tsangaris, Dr. Flores, and my Oncologist. These three doctors would be the team to help me fight the disease.
February 17,2007 I had a mastectomy. 6 days after my 26th birthday.
I had to wait around two months to have this surgery done because I had to wait for the two doctors that were going to perform the surgery to both have an opening.
I chose to have a mastectomy - even though the tumor was only .8cm, I wanted to have it all gone and then have reconstruction.
The day of my surgery, my mom, dad, brothers, and husband were all there for support. My doctor told me when I woke up and if I had two drainage tubes, the cancer had spread to my lymphnodes. When I woke up and if I only had one, that meant the cancer had not spread.
I cried a little and became very upset. I remember sitting in the pre op room, shivering and my husband holding me. I wasn't ready to lose my breasts. The sounds of the medical equipment going on around me - just beeping and carrying on, as if my whole world wasn't turned upside down.
My doctor gave me a sedative and I was out within minutes.
When i woke up, I was looking up at the ceiling. I gulped with fear. So much fear and sadness. I didn't know whether to look down or ignore the burning and firey pain in my chest. I knew my breasts were gone, but I didn't know if I could look. I was alone at this point, the nurses didn't know I was awake yet.
I looked down and saw one drainage tube, and no breasts. I started sobbing - saying "thank god, it's gone. the cancer is gone, omg, thank god" it was so hard, though, to see my chest bandaged...without my breasts.
The pain started to hit me at that point. The nurse came in and gave me some pain medicine, so I fell asleep. When I started waking up again, I felt a hand on my shoulder, I jumped - startled - and looked over. i was still alone. To this day, i don't know who or what touched my right shoulder.
That night, after I had my breast removed, the pain was unbearable. It was horribly persistent and would not let up. The doctor kept trying to use morphine, and morphine just wasn't cutting it. I remember lying in my bed, screaming from the pain. My dad and husband had no idea what to do. They just watched as I cried out in agony, my husband was getting angry that the medical staff weren't trying other medications.
My dad finally spoke up and told them that when he had his hip replacement surgery, he didn't respond to morphine either, and the doctor used dilaudid. My doctor took this information to heart and instead, used dilauded. As it was possibly hereditary that morphine had no effect.
I was released the next day, and my giant of a step brother pushed my wheelchair through the hallways of Johns Hopkins as I curled my body to shield my chest from site. Any bump the chair hit was torture.
When I finally got home, I just sat on my bed and sobbed. It was done. My husband had to help with my drainage tube. Stripped it and keeping the area clean.
I finally healed from the mastectomy. But the next part of my fight would be the worst hell imaginable.
Chemotherapy.
I had my first chemotherapy in March 2007. I dyed my hair pink because I knew I would lose it all.
I went through 6 months of very strong chemotherapy. My first chemotherapy treatment, I had gotten my chemo port placed prior to my first infusion. I was awake during the surgical placement of the port. I cried the whole time because it's really frightening to hear your skin being cut open.
Once I was finished, I was wheeled up to the chemo ward where they inserted an IV into my port. They flushed the port and I could taste the hepbrin. (I still gag when I get that taste) the nurse gave me anti nausea meds, one was called anzemet. When she did that, I had a horrible reaction and started throwing up from the medication.
She quickly gave me other meds to counteract that one. I finally got my chemo and was sent home. On the way home, I had my bucket that I was violently throwing up into. The drive from Baltimore, MD to Dover, DE is about 2 1/2 hours long. When I got home, my husband and his sister had to hold me up as I threw up all over myself and got me into my bed. He gave me my neulasta shot, my 6 different medications, and I laid there feeling like the world started to blur away. Sounds became muffled.
I slowly faded into a darkness that I would not find a way out of for 6 months.
This is a small look into what was going on - I wrote this on my caringbridge journal:
Quote:
Thursday, April 19, 2007 10:28 PM, CDT
God, I dont want to go in tomorrow. I don't I don't I don't. I am on the constant verge of tears. It's like Melissa Etheridge's song "This is not goodbye" I feel like I'm going away.
Just for a moment in time. I'll be down. I'll be sick.
It's like being trapped in a sickly shell. Unable to break through. This dark curtain falls over my brain. Life becomes foggy. Every inch of my body aches.
I lose myself for a short period of time. I'm so weak and tired. I hate it so much. To be so weak. To be so sickly. It's not me.
I have to go pack for tomorrow. I'm holding so much in right now. The fear. God, it's so overwhelming. Falling back into that black hole of illness of nausea of fogginess.
It's so hard going back there. It's so hard. I feel like I have claw my way to the surface each time.
Ugh,I hate this.
I am being whiney tonight...but I really don't want to go through this anymore. It SUCKS.
Thursday, April 19, 2007 10:28 PM, CDT
God, I dont want to go in tomorrow. I don't I don't I don't. I am on the constant verge of tears. It's like Melissa Etheridge's song "This is not goodbye" I feel like I'm going away.
Just for a moment in time. I'll be down. I'll be sick.
It's like being trapped in a sickly shell. Unable to break through. This dark curtain falls over my brain. Life becomes foggy. Every inch of my body aches.
I lose myself for a short period of time. I'm so weak and tired. I hate it so much. To be so weak. To be so sickly. It's not me.
I have to go pack for tomorrow. I'm holding so much in right now. The fear. God, it's so overwhelming. Falling back into that black hole of illness of nausea of fogginess.
It's so hard going back there. It's so hard. I feel like I have claw my way to the surface each time.
Ugh,I hate this.
I am being whiney tonight...but I really don't want to go through this anymore. It SUCKS.
It constantly felt like I was enveloped in this thick and heavy darkness. Every treatment sent me back to this horribly hellish place that made the rest of the world blurry and muffled. Faces held no familiarity. It was like sitting in a darkened cold room. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn't find my way out of that prison.
At one point, my white blood cell count was so low and I was so sick I had to be admitted. They postponed the next chemotherapy treatment until the next week. I went home even though I was still really sick. I wasn't able to get up from bed. I ended up getting so violently ill , and the force of my vomitting had me messing myself and losing bowel control. I was crying. I felt like I had lost my hair, my breasts, I had scars, and now I had lost my dignity. My husband picked me up and put me gently in the bathtub and washed me. The rest of my hair was coming out in clumps. he gently washed my scalp, because my skin was so sensitive. Any touch was painful. I sat in the tub shivering. My fever was climbing pretty rapidly so he had to take me to the ER. When I got there, my husband put a mask on me to protect me from the illness floating around there. The hospital staff put me in an isolation room to keep me away from everyone else.
They told my husband that it could very well be my last night. I was very sick that night. He had to go home and take care of our kids. I was in and out of consciousness. I would wake up, see a medical staff then fade back into a dreamless sleep. I really thought that night was going to be my last. I was ready to give up. I was ready to give in. The pain and hell up to that point was so difficult to fight through.
Fortunately, the next day came. I woke up to feel the sun on my face.
The next few months of chemotherapy were pretty uneventful. I got sick often and chemo would have to be postponed. It was difficult on me and my family those through those months. My husband and I would fight and turn away from one another. For awhile, we slept in seperate beds because I would get up and get sick or I would start shaking so much that it would wake my husband up. I had to sleep upright because of my chest. I was still healing from my mastectomy.
I found out I was pregnant in September 2007. My oncologist was absolutely stunned, he told me that just doesn't happen. He told me I should abort and continue with treatments. i didn't. I couldn't do it anymore.
I knew that this was meant to be. After all I had been through, my body was still capable of creating life? This body I thought was diseased and damaged. Capable of nothing but sickness and pain. Created a life. Bald, scarred, breastless, and whiter than casper... I told my doctor that I wanted this baby. He told me then he would do whatever he had to , to make sure I gave birth to a healthy baby. I left the infusion ward that day. The sun never felt so warm or so good. The sky never seemed so blue. The air never seemed so sweet as it did that day.
During my pregnancy, my hair grew back. I fell inlove with this little life that my body nurtured and cared for.
Jonathan was born April 21, 2008. Exactly one year after some of my worst moments with chemotherapy.
When they placed him in my arms, I cried so hard. He was the most precious site. God had given me a second chance. Opened the door to this new life. I made it through. I made it through losing my breasts, chemotherapy, and this pregnancy.
A month after my son was born, I went to my oncologist to see what else needed to be done. He took a CBC and checked my tumor markers. This was a very big deal, because pregnancy hormones were what my tumor cells fed from. So, I was anxious to see where my tumor markers were. My oncologist told me everything was normal. I had beaten cancer.
I had beaten cancer and carried a new life.
In August 2008, I had my big surgery. Called a DIEP flap. Which is where they take a section of my stomach and made it into breasts. I wanted this surgery and not the TRAM flap or implants. Because the DIEP flap wouldn't take any stomach muscle and would be all my own skin and flesh. I had 5 drainage tubes after that surgery. three under my right arm and two in my abdomen.
That was the biggest and hardest surgery. It took me months to heal. In september 2008, I ended up with a very very severe infection in my incision that landed me in the hospital again. My surgeon had to reopen me up and pack my incision with gauze. Again, my husband had to leave me at the hospital alone, because we didn't know anyone at Dover AFB, DE. That first night was pretty rough. I was homesick and just wanted to be with my family. My husband was home in Delaware with our three boys. Worrying about me.\
The infection took a pretty bad turn. Again, doctors became concerned about me. I made it through that horrible night as well, and the next day was just me trying to heal.
I had another surgery in December 2008, February 2009, April 2009, June 2009, September 2009, December 2009, January 2010, December 2011.
With each surgery, I had to fight to heal.
-----------------
In December 2010 I became pregnant with my 4th child, Serena. My husband also went on a deployment right after I conceived.
I'm currently 30 weeks pregnant (as of Friday) . I had a bilateral mastectomy on Jan 13th...I was told today that I need to start chemo......
This gives me soo much hope that my baby and I will be okay!
Thank you!
Quoting blessedwitluv:
Thank you sooo sooo sooo much for sharing this! I'm sorry you've had to go through this...
I'm currently 30 weeks pregnant (as of Friday) . I had a bilateral mastectomy on Jan 13th...I was told today that I need to start chemo......
This gives me soo much hope that my baby and I will be okay!
Thank you!
Should I be worried???
- AquarianPath
on Feb. 8, 2012 at 9:15 PM