Five life lessons I learned from surviving breast cancer.
Life Lesson # 1
“Give yourself a breast exam. It could save your life.”
I was one of those people that got yearly mammograms for early breast cancer detection. Thinking these annual check-ups were good enough, I rarely gave myself a breast exam. But two and a half years ago, I did, and was shocked to discover a lump in my right breast. It felt large and hard; and it scared me. I worried about having breast cancer and the prospect of dying. My mom recently passed away from Alzheimer’s disease. And one week before I discovered my lump, my dog, Lolita, was hit by a car. She was like the child I never had. And her sudden death felt more painful to me than my mom’s slow ten year decline. These two significant losses left me feeling emotionally exhausted and I began to wonder if I would ever achieve my dream of finishing school and graduating with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree.
I quickly made an appointment with my primary care doctor in Chicago. He felt the lump in my right breast and said that it seemed too large to be cancer. But to be sure, he recommended I have my radiologist examine it.
At the breast imaging center my radiologist told me that he saw my lump, but it was hard to detect because I had dense breast tissue. It occurred to me that he might have missed it during my last examination, which was just eleven months prior to this visit. To get a clearer picture of my lump my doctor used ultrasound imaging. On the screen I could see the big black mass and remember saying to him, “That looks evil.” A few hours later, I came back to have a core-needle biopsy where my doctor used a long needle to grab a section of my tumor for further examination. He said he would call me the next day with the biopsy results.
Not knowing any answers felt agonizing to me. I wanted to know whether my tumor was benign or malignant. My doctor said he would call me by two-o-clock in the afternoon. When he never called I got nervous and called him. He told me he was on the other line with my primary care doctor and would call me back. When the phone rang, I picked it up and heard my doctor say, “Diane, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but you have stage two breast cancer.” Getting this life-threatening news was difficult for me. So I did something to nourish my spirit. I got a new puppy, Paulo. He was my angel. His sweet soul kept me happy as I set out to overcome my illness.
Life Lesson # 2
“Be your own best advocate.”
My cancer was called stage two, ductal cell-carcinoma-in-situ, grade three, HR-positive. It was considered treatable but had a thirty percent recurrence rate. So I went into survival mode. My primary care doctor suggested that I visit with breast cancer specialists and gave me some recommendations. Soon, other survivors, who had heard about my story from mutual acquaintances, began to appear in my life. They told me their own survival stories, helped me with advice, and suggested names of other doctors to visit. For the next couple of weeks I focused solely on building my medical team. I scheduled my appointments to personally meet and interview each doctor. My breast surgeon, plastic surgeon, oncologist, and radiotherapist were chosen based on their demeanor, listening skills and ability to honestly answer my questions.
I was curious, anxious and in full blown fix-myself mode. Using Google to gather cancer facts, I made lists of questions to ask my doctors. Doing this made me feel more empowered because I received knowledgeable answers that helped me make important decisions for my body. I learned that cancer starts as a healthy cell and begins to malfunction, divide, and then multiply into a tumor due to environmental, physical, mental or genetic reasons. Some factors that contribute to cancer’s growth are: smoking, drinking alcohol, being overweight and stress. I didn’t smoke and wasn’t overweight. And I am the type of person that handles stress pretty well. Okay, I do socially drink, but didn’t think this alone could have caused my breast cancer. So I did more research, which taught me that only about ten percent of women with a family history will get cancer. My mother didn’t have it. Her mother didn’t have it. But, my aunt was diagnosed with stage zero pre-breast cancer, so I wanted to get tested to see if I had the BRCA gene (the gene that causes breast cancer in women). Fortunately, my genetic test results were negative. I came to realize that cancer is a random disease. Everyone is at risk of getting it. So, instead of saying “Why me?” I said, “Why not me?” and focused on my survival strategy.
My tumor was two centimeters large (about the size of an eyeball) and close to my nipple. I could have had a lumpectomy but was worried that a large portion of my breast would have been removed during surgery. And since my cancer was grade three — the most aggressive type and rated highest for recurrence — I decided to get a bi-lateral mastectomy instead. Even though this type of surgery is extremely invasive, I felt good about my decision, because my doctors said it would completely eliminate the risk of cancer returning to my breast tissue — but not to the rest of my body.
Together, my breast surgeon and plastic surgeon performed my skin sparing prophylactic mastectomy right before Christmas. I had made plans to rest and recover over the holiday break. During surgery my breast surgeon performed a sentinel node biopsy to see if cancer had spread into my lymph nodes. Once he removed my sentinel node, the hospital technicians did a preliminary “squish” test to determine if it was still healthy. When I woke up after surgery, my doctor came to visit me and said, “Happy Holidays your biopsy was negative.” His news to me was the gift I was hoping for.
At the start of the New Year I went back to work feeling strong and optimistic. But later that week my doctor shocked me with disappointing news. He said my biopsy results were now showing up positive from a “slice” test performed after surgery. I learned that thin slices of my sentinel node were individually examined for cancer cells. They found a microscopic tumor in one of the sections. Now my doctors had to decide if more surgery was needed to remove my axillary lymph nodes and see if cancer had spread further. Because my tumor was still so small, my medical team and I decided to forgo surgery. We felt that the combination of chemo drugs and radiation would eliminate the tumor and prevent new cancer cells from forming.
Life Lesson # 3
“Set clear goals for yourself.”
I set three goals for myself during my medical treatments: 1. Be positive. 2. Keep a sense of humor. 3. Stay physically healthy.
Preparing for four chemotherapy treatments, every three weeks over the next three months, felt daunting to me. I felt nervous and cried often. But, my pity parties lasted only twenty four hours. Reading books about two courageous women and their survival stories, Anita Moorjani’s, Dying to Be Me and Kris Carr’s, Crazy Sexy Cancer, kept me feeling hopeful. And I felt surrounded by love from my family and friends. Also, my colleagues sent me their helpful support through heartfelt cards, email notes and phone calls.
In the hospital, seeing others fighting cancer kept things in perspective for me, especially young children. I felt thankful that my compassionate friends were with me during “my three-hour chemo drip” and I wanted to make the gloomy atmosphere feel more fun. So we kept each other laughing with funny stories, jokes and champagne (we never drank it, but it looked good). I also spent a lot of time with my dad, who was diagnosed with low-grade lymphoma a week before me. He is the funniest guy I know. We bonded over chemo and laughed about our similar experiences. At the age of eighty-five my dad was my inspiration — he never complained and always had a smile on his face.
During chemo, I took a medical leave. For the first time in my life work became secondary. It was a big step for me to put my career aside and focus solely on myself. But, I was glad I did because chemotherapy made me feel weak and nauseous the first few days after treatment. There were days when I didn’t feel motivated to do anything, so to reinvigorate myself, I went for walks with Paulo in the cold winter air and felt the falling snowflakes melt on my skin. Usually one week after chemo I would begin to feel better and have more energy. But I had to be careful that I didn’t get sick and jeopardize my treatment schedule. So, I designed a healthy lifestyle routine for myself. I read nutrition books that taught me how to prepare gluten and dairy-free meals made with fresh ingredients and I would invite friends over to taste my new recipes. To help me relax and eliminate those nasty chemo toxins from my body, I got massages every week. And to remain physically and mentally strong, I developed a low-impact exercise routine incorporating light weights, cardio and yoga.
Life Lesson # 4
“Let your soul shine.”
Two weeks after my first treatment my long hair began to fall out. It seemed surreal when bunches of my hair freely fell from my head as I brushed it. I was prepared and ready to wear my expensive wig made from real hair that somebody graciously donated, (Thank you!). But when I wore it out in public I didn’t feel like myself and ended up only wearing it once. Being bald made me feel like I could let go of my ego and not worry about vanity. I didn’t want to hide behind someone else’s hair. Instead I wanted people to see my soul. I came to love my bald head and it soon became my survival symbol.
Life Lesson # 5
“Be a fearless warrior.”
Even though I was sick, I kept going to school at night. I was only one semester away from graduating and didn’t want to let cancer stop me from achieving my dream. Painting became my mental therapy. There were nights I would have to force myself to go to class, but when I began to paint, it re-energized me. My paintings were my visual expressions of the healthy cells I imagined growing in my body. And when I looked at them they made me feel more alive than ever. Just before my fiftieth birthday, I graduated from Chicago’s School of the Art Institute with my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. I was happy that I didn’t let cancer stop me from achieving my dream. When I walked across the stage (bald and badass) to receive my diploma I felt my mom with me. I was her last child to graduate from college.
After my radiation treatments ended I went back to work. It made me feel good to get dressed up again. My bald head was my new fashion statement.
Today, as I reflect back and write about my breast cancer experience, I realize that it taught me a lot about myself and life. To be a fearless warrior I had to set goals for myself. Being positive and maintaining a sense of humor kept me healthy and made me feel determined to achieve my dream. As I type I feel victorious. I am a two and a half year cancer survivor whose soul now shines through a head full of curly, blonde hair. And I am an artist who has had two painting shows. I think my mom would have been proud of me. I know I am.
