Posts Tagged ‘diagnosis’

30
Aug
2012

Drumroll, Please…

Stephanie and Matt, February 2012

Last Friday (8/24), I went to the hospital to get a PET scan. This was my second scan of this kind, the first being exactly seven months ago. Besides being the same procedure, this one was drastically different than my first scan, which you can read about here. Why was this one different, you ask? Well you see, in January I knew I had cancer, and was receiving the imaging to determine where and how far the cancer had spread. A week ago, I received the imaging to determine if, after all my treatment, the cancer was demolished. Waiting for results is the worst part of the process. Although God has been teaching me patience throughout my entire life, specifically during this journey, I haven’t yet mastered it. Let’s just say, I am not a fan of the waiting game.

Waiting truly is the hardest part. Whether it’s waiting for results for an important exam, waiting for paperwork to go through on purchasing a home, or waiting for doctors to tell you cancer is or is not present in your body, it’s still difficult. In the stillness, your mind is more capable of wandering off onto paths you thought you blocked off. I’ve had five whole days to battle against doubt. So many thoughts have run through my head. But over these last few days, I’ve learned that my thoughts are a choice. I can either choose to let doubt flood into my brain and infect all aspects of my being, or I can look forward and keep my thoughts fixed on the end goal. My end goal is to be cancer-free. And I will be.

Sometimes it’s hard to fight those thoughts of fear and doubt, but I’ve found that I am meant to rest in God. Only in Him can I find authentic relief. I was not created to fight this alone. None of us are. He has reminded me of that greatly throughout these past five days. On Sunday, pastors from South Africa came to speak at our church. I was amazed at how God used this man to speak directly to me. The message was titled “Hold On.” And one major point that stuck out to me was: “God’s delays are not God’s denials.” I’ve actually heard that saying twice since diagnosis from two separate sources. He’s obviously wanting me to absorb it! Holding on is all we have to do when things get rough. When you think you can’t possibly keep your grip any longer, find your strength in Jesus. He will give you rest. “Blah, blah, blah,” you may be thinking, but give it a shot. I promise you won’t be disappointed. But always keep in mind, our timing is not God’s timing. Be thankful for that; His timing is never wrong.

Like I mentioned, I’ve waited since last Friday to receive my PET scan results. I can finally announce, the waiting is over. I received a call from my nurse at my Radiation Oncologist’s office a little bit ago. She happily informed me that my scan came back… drumroll, please… “clear!” Praise God! After asking her if there were any possible traces of cancer in my body, she responded with “the scan shows absolutely no evidence of malignancies anywhere.” In English, this means there is no cancer in my body. None. I can proudly say that these last six months of treatment have worked! (Cue applause, hoots and hollers, jumping up and down, and tears of joy!) I am elated.

Where do things go from here? Realistically speaking, I am nowhere near the end of this journey. Not until I reach five years of clear, cancer-free scans will I be considered “in remission.” Until then, I will continue to get pelvic exams every three months, and PET scans every three to six months. This adventure isn’t over, and like I’ve talked about before, this next part of the story might indeed be harder than the beginning; The battle of protecting my mind from doubt is on. I will be fighting against the statistics of Neuroendocrine cancer. It’s gnarly. It’s aggressive. It can come back. I will most definitely have ups and downs, good days and bad days, but I will persevere. My hope is in Jesus. And He has promised to never disappoint. I’ll say it again, with Him, I will defeat this.

I’ve been asked several times how I’m feeling now that treatment is complete. After my blood transfusion, things have been on the up and up. I’m feeling more and more like ME with every day that passes. I’ve told Matt he has his wife back, and he’s pretty stoked about that! My energy is coming back, my body is starting to cooperate with me, and I no longer wake up and think “is today a good day or a bad day?” Most days prove to be great days. I haven’t touched on it much, but I gained quite a bit of weight during chemotherapy. In fact, I was shocked when the numbers on the scale continued to increase with every treatment. It’s actually not uncommon. Truth is, after I got diagnosed and was told what treatment I would be undergoing, I literally thought, “YES! Chemo-diet! It’ll be great to lose a few pounds!” How silly and naive of me. Chemotherapy is known to shut off your metabolism. Frankly, it throws your whole body out of whack. Yes, some people lose weight. A lot of people simply lose their appetites. As for me, I definitely didn’t. Nurses say it’s a good thing, however my scale says otherwise. Since my hysterectomy, I have gained about 25-30 pounds. Yuck. With the whacked metabolism, lack of energy, and extreme body pains, I was unable to be very active. Think couch potato. However, now that I am regaining more and more energy every day, I have been able to be more active.

Many of you can understand what gaining unwanted weight feels like. It sucks. And I really don’t like the way my body looks with these extra pounds clinging on. So, I’ve told myself, “if you can fight and beat cancer, you can whip your ass into shape, girly.” Ok, so I left the girly part off… whatever, that’s not the point. Since Wednesday, (8/22) I have been extremely committed to losing this extra weight and getting back into the shape I was before diagnosis. Hopefully I’ll be in better shape than before the craziness began! My commitment means working out five days a week (typically at 5:30am, yikes), and eating very clean. Thankfully I have my husband who is my teammate and accountability partner. Many of you know I am a vegetarian and have been for the past four years. I was vegan for an entire year, but that’s a totally different story. Don’t get me started. But although I’m a vegetarian, I’m a carboholic. I love carbohydrates. This new weight loss commitment has entailed me ridding myself of most carbs. I eat tons of fruits, vegetables, and find my protein in things like eggs and nuts. I can proudly say that what I’m doing is working! I’ve lost seven pounds already. My goal is to lose twenty pounds by the time Matt and I head to California for our “cancer-free” vacation in thirty days. I’ll keep you updated on my progress, and look forward to fitting into and wearing the jeans I wore eight months ago.

Oh, by the way, if you missed it… I’M CURRENTLY CANCER-FREE!

Romans 5:3-4 (NIV)

“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

We’ve come a LONG way! Stephanie and Matt, August 2012

15
Feb
2012

Things Happen So Quickly

Right when I feel like I’m settling into the current circumstances, things change. In fact, it’s been the pattern. With every doctors appointment I attend, I leave cradling worse news. I was not looking forward to my appointment with my oncologist yesterday. My husband and parents were trying to encourage me to continue seeing the positive side, but I just felt I wouldn’t come home with good news.

My feeling was right.

Like I’ve mentioned before, I appreciate my oncologist’s personality. She is straight and to the point, but not harsh. She is compassionate, but not overly emotional. My husband and mom accompanied me into her office, and we all sat down. My doctor began by saying they have further identified the actual type of cancer cells I have.  Below I will list the straight facts of what I’ve learned. I’m extremely exhausted today, so I won’t be able to put as much emotion into my writing, like I typically do. Maybe, once I’m up and energized, I will add my response. Point is, this is crappy news. It changes the whole ball game. It’s like going onto the baseball field expecting to play the Astros (no offense) and finding out you’ll be playing the Yankees. It’s still a game, but you practiced and were prepared for playing against one specific team. Suddenly, a new team shows up and you’re left thinking… Dammit, this truly is going to be a battle. The difference is, God is still by my side and will fight hard on my front line. I am more and more thankful for Him everyday.

Here are the facts:

  1. The results of the biopsies came back and show that the other lymph nodes have not yet been affected by the cancer. This is good news. This means that the doctor removed the cancerous cervix and lymph node, and no other area is showing positive for cancer. Praise God.
  2. Because of the biopsies, they were further able to identify my specific type of cancer cells. Originally I was diagnosed with squamous cell cancer. There are 2 very common cancer types, one being squamous cell carcinoma, and the other being adenocarcinoma. Typically those are the most common cancers seen. However, there are a bunch of other little random and very rare types. Neuroendocrine cancer is an extremely rare type. That’s what I’ve been re-diagnosed with.
  3. Neuroendocrine cancer is an SOB cancer. This monstrous cancer is far worse and meaner than the 2 most common types. My doctor informed me that neuroendocrine cancer is very difficult to cure, and is extremely resistant to treatment.

Because my cancer is hard to cure and resists treatment, we have to get the treatment ball rolling a LOT quicker than we had planned. I start chemo next Wednesday (2/22). My port is being surgically placed under my skin this Friday (2/17). This first round of chemo will be for 3 straight days. Wednesday I will receive 5-6 hours of chemo, and both Thursday and Friday I will receive 3-4 hours of treatment.

After my 3 days of chemo, I will get a 2 week break to rest. Then my radiation/chemo program begins. It’s the same as I stated before. For 5 1/2 weeks, I’ll go in 5 days a week (M-F) to receive radiation. Once a week during that time, I will receive a shot of chemo.

Once the radiation/chemo program is complete, I will have another 2 weeks off from treatment. Then I will begin my next set of chemo rounds. 3 days in a row. Similar to the first time. After this sandwich effect of treatment is complete, they will reassess me, and see what we need to do from then on.

Here are some personal thoughts that I dwell on. I will definitely lose all of my hair within a month. I’m actually not too frightened by this. I’m thankful for a pretty face, and nice skin. And even more thankful that I’m a makeup artist and can make even a bald woman look hot. My husband’s an artist and we’ve already talked about some artwork he could draw on my head… Ya know, like a baseball, football helmet, or field of flowers. Just comedic ideas, friends. I also know that I’m going to be very sick and weak pretty soon. I won’t be able to do much of anything. That’s a bummer. Being as independent as I am, this will be a huge adjustment. I am going to have to completely rely on my husband and family for any needs I might have. But it’s a good thing I’ve got a stellar husband and incredible family to help me with this!

Like I said before, today is a day full of exhaustion. I really need to rest. My incision pain is bad and my intestines have remembered how to work, so I’ve got a little stomach ache. My apologies for not being as fun as I typically am in my entires. But I’ll be back to posting soon. Just need to lay down and catch up on my ZZZ’s. Thank you all for your understanding, support, prayers, and encouragement. You all rock.

2 Chronicles 20:15-17 (Message Version)

“He said, ‘Attention everyone- all of you from out of town, all you from Jerusalem, and you King Jehosaphat-God’s word: Don’t be afraid; don’t pay any mind to this vandal horde. This is God’s war, not yours. Tomorrow you’ll go after them; see, they’re already on their way up the slopes of Ziz; you’ll meet them at the end of the ravine near the wilderness of Jeruel. You won’t have to lift a hand in this battle; just stand firm, Judah and Jerusalem, and watch God’s saving work for you take shape. Don’t be afraid, don’t waver. March out boldly tomorrow-God is with you.'”

03
Feb
2012

Hearing His Voice in The Storm

Welcome to one of my more raw entries. My heart is heavy. And, dammit, my latest news really sucks.

Yesterday (2/3) my mom came with my husband and I to my radiology appointment. We arrived and, because the nurses were a little backed up, we had to wait for a while before getting taken back to a room. This gave me time to catch up on the latest “Cancer Today” magazine. I never knew these existed…now I do. Maybe I should subscribe? Maybe not. This extra time also allowed me to really take a closer look at who was walking in and out of the office. It wasn’t very comforting. All of the patients were older, and extremely skinny with sunken in faces. I felt so bad for them, but soon realized, that I was in their position now.

Eventually we were taken back to a small exam room, and after my nurse received my vitals and medical history, we were instructed to watch a video. I don’t think I’ve seen a more depressing film. Apparently, Mom and Matt didn’t think it was too bad, but when you have cancer, movies on the technicalities of radiation aren’t uplifting. This particular film was only 8 minutes long and explained what radiation is and what it does. It informed us about how long each procedure is, and some of the side effects that may follow treatment. Can’t I just get this crap cut out of me and move on?! Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.

Following another pelvic exam (I’ve had 3 or 4 in the last 12 days), my mom and husband came back into the room joined by the Radiologist. He immediately confirmed that after looking at my PET scan results, my cancer has indeed spread. Yes Doc, so I’ve heard. Because it has spread, I have been restaged. This will happen a lot during this process. Currently, my cancer is stage 3. That means, it has jumped up 2 levels. That’s not good. Keep in mind, you only get 5 stages.

He continued on to inform me that the specific lymph node the cancer has attacked is on my left side, and contains a pea-sized tumor. Pea-sized doesn’t seem so big does it? It doesn’t matter the size, it matters the location. Lymph node. The lymphatic system. Lymph nodes are small filters all over the body. They are about the size of a grain of rice, but can not be seen by the naked eye. Lymphatic vessels connect each and every lymph together, therefore making the system a transportation route. I view it as a shuttle service. It transports white blood cells to fight off infection in other areas of the body. Ever wonder why the sides of your neck swell up and you can feel large knots when you get sick? Those are your lymph nodes working overload to get rid of your sickness. The lymphatic system is a huge part of the immune system. Apparently, these lymph nodes don’t recognize cancer cells, so they just store them in their pockets. This allows the cancer to grow, and have the potential to hop on the lymph-train to other areas of the body. In other words, because my cancer is in one lymph node, there is a now a higher chance for it to spread and attack the rest of me.

Obviously, although there’s a chance, it’s not an option for me. I’m killing this thing before it gets a free ride. This leads me to treatment. My surgery will continue on, no strings attached. My Oncologist will still remove my uterus, cervix, uterine wall, surrounding ligaments, and the inside of the top part of my vagina.  She will also remove the affected lymph node, and strip the others in the area. The item that has been added to the schedule has been radiation. The purpose in receiving this type of treatment is to make sure there are no more remnants of cancer in my pelvic/abdominal region. My schedule for this treatment will begin about 3 weeks after surgery. This will entail me going in every day, 5 days a week, for 5 1/2 weeks of radiation. In addition, I will be getting an injection of chemo once a week during this process. When radiation and chemo are combined, the success of annihilating the cancer is far greater. I asked if I would lose my hair. He said no, but that it would thin out. Sounds like the same thing to me, Doc. In addition, in the area of radiation, my skin will get very red and burnt- essentially, a really bad sun burn. I will get extremely fatigued, lose weight, and have the risk of getting sick. But if we are going to kill this cancer, bring it on. And, I won’t even have to work out to drop a few pounds! Keeping the positives in mind, folks.

Remember how you need your ovaries to produce eggs? And how I’ve previously mentioned that with my eggs we can have biological children through the freezing process? This option has essentially been wiped out. My Oncologist will move my ovaries higher in my body to try to get them out of the way of the future radiation. However, there’s no guarantee they will survive surgery, let alone radiation beams coursing through my body. My cancer is aggressive. It’s proven that it can and is willing to spread. After questioning my Radiologist about the possibility of stimulating and harvesting my eggs before surgery and radiation, he said it was okay. His words were, “It’ll take about 4 weeks for the eggs to be stimulated and harvested, and if that’s what you want to do, you’ll have to start right away. By right away, I mean tomorrow morning. You’ll have to go in first thing to start that process. I really wouldn’t wait more than a month to get your surgery and treatment.” What we heard in that was, “If you want your eggs, you need to GO, GO, GO. We don’t have much time to fight this before it spreads.” Comforting, Doc.

We left the radiology office, and I was in a bigger haze than I’ve ever been in in my life. My brain was about to explode with the abundance of the information just poured in. My heart was going to drop out with the overwhelming decision we were going to have to make. We only had the rest of the night to make this life-changing decision. My husband and I were fearful, overwhelmed, stressed out, and devastated. We were instructed to head over to my Oncologists’ office to speak with her about either canceling surgery or going forth with it right away. We arrived and she had already left. Not only that, but she wouldn’t be in the following day (today), because she was going out of town. Great news. Now, we had to make this decision without even consulting my Oncologist? She’s my main doctor, and her advice means a lot to me.

We headed home. Silence. No words. Just one million thoughts fighting for my attention. Do we go ahead with surgery and beat cancer first? Do we try to harvest my eggs and allow the cancer time to spread? Do I give the gift of biological children to my husband at the risk of my life? Do I fight for my life and consider adoption? These were the 2 choices. The only 2. For a lot of you, the answer is simple. Save your life. But for those who know the deep desire of having biological children, you may understand. Matt and I have always talked about and imagined what our children would look like. Would they have his wonderful thick hair? Would they have my blue/green eyes? Would they be tall like him? Would they have tiny toes like me? We arrived home and I collapsed into my adoring husband’s arms. The emotion and degree of the situation completely pushed me down. Tears of anger, sadness, fear, and doubt flooded from our eyes.

Soon, we were interrupted with a call from our fertility doctor. She had just gotten off the phone with my Oncologist and began to explain the imperativeness in beginning egg stimulation right away. She requested that I come in first thing in the morning. She informed me that my Oncologist, just like my Radiologist, said we have to get this show on the road now. We don’t have time to wait. If we want to retrieve my eggs before they are wiped out, we must act right away. This news nearly floored me. She was essentially telling me that I needed to make my decision now. I couldn’t do that. I will never make a decision, let alone one this enormous, without my husband. I told her I would have to call her back. She said she needed to get home before the snow hit, and would call me then. We were given the amount of time it took her to get home, to decide if we wanted biological children or not. Shit.

Here are our brainstorms during this time:

  1. All 3 of my doctors are saying if we are wanting to harvest eggs, we would have to do it immediately. And not immediately, as in Monday, immediately as in 8am the following day (today).
  2. Even if we were to successfully harvest eggs, that means we would have given the cancer 2 weeks to travel freely through my body.
  3. Also, we would have to freeze the eggs, find a surrogate, write up paperwork, fertilize the eggs, successfully implant the eggs, and have a successful pregnancy. That’s a lot.
  4. In order for any result to be positive, it is necessary that I live. My life is priority number one.
  5. Secondly to my life, we don’t want to bring children into the world to have a sick, dying mother. Our children need a healthy mom, and we must think of them regardless of who they are, where they come from, and if they are here yet or not.

Immediately we held each other and began to pray. “Lord, give us peace. Give us an answer. Let us know in our hearts what to do. Speak clearly to us.” We prayed and prayed and prayed, and pretty soon we were not crying out anymore. We were calm. God had given us peace. And, he had given us both the answer… My life. We must save my life, because without me, we don’t have any options. The first priority since diagnosis has been fighting this thing. Getting this beast out of me. Surviving cancer and moving on with our lives. Why should that change now? I have to be alive if I want children, regardless of if they share our DNA or not. Adopted children will still be our own. There will be no difference. We both felt such relief that God spoke directly to us in this storm. He calmed the seas just enough for us to hear His voice. I’m thankful for a God which with whom I can have a direct relationship with. Not many people understand that it’s that simple. God has led us down this path for His purpose. And, although its gut-wrenching at times, His purpose is ultimately for our good. Who knows what children He is going to place in our life? Who knows what children we will be saving from a horrible situation? We will still be able to tell our kids how hard we truly fought for them, and I so look forward to that moment.

I can end this entry by saying, this is good news. Sounds weird, huh? Remember, I am the one who said I was blessed to have cancer; You can’t be too shocked by what I say. The reason this is good news, is because God has given us clear direction on where to go next. I can’t imagine going through this without having Christ to pave my way. There would be no hope. With Him, there’s an abundance of it. He continues to give me strength during this process, and to Him be the glory. My view has not changed. I will fight this thing with an iron fist. I will kick cancer’s ass. Although it fights dirty, I will fight dirtier. I will live a long and fulfilling life, with a loving husband and children surrounding me. That’s not to say, this journey will be perfect. It undoubtedly won’t be. I will have good days and horrendous days. But, regardless of good or bad news, I will get through this. I know it.

James 1:2-8 (Message Version)

“Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who ‘worry their prayers’ are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think that you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.”

01
Feb
2012

Charred Cauliflower

The day after D-day we had my first appointment with my Oncologist. She. Is. The. Greatest. Her reputation is outstanding. And I am so blessed to have her as not only my cancer doctor, but also my surgeon. My appointment started as all others do, with paperwork. Filling out my personal history section was a little different this time around. I was actually a little stunned when I saw the check yes or no for cancer option. Wow. I actually have to fill this in as yes now. I have cancer. And, forever, I will have to mark that tiny little cancer box as yes. Although I will kick cancer’s ass, I’ll still have to tell my doctors that I once had it. Surreal.

My paperwork was complete, the cancer box checked, and before I knew it, I was heading in to the exam room. Another exam. I guess everyone needs to see what’s going on in there! This time around, a thought perked my interest, so I asked my husband what he thought. He said yes. We entered the exam room, and pretty soon, I was introduced to my Oncologist. I loved her from the start. She seems fun. Having a fun surgeon never seemed like a good thing. But believe me, any positive traits your surgeon has, the better. Eventually, the exam started. My husband was able to see what all of us women go through when we get our “annuals”! He, of course, was thrilled. <–Sarcasm, folks. Once my Oncologist found my cancer, which apparently, is not that hard to do, I asked the question Matt said “yes” to, as stated previously. “Would you mind if you pointed out the cancer to my husband?” Surprisingly, she laughed and told us that our request was far from the more weirder ones she’s had. Matt joined her, and she soon started telling him what he was looking at.

After my exam, the doctors left, and Matt and I were left alone while I changed back into my clothes. Perfect opportunity to get the “human” as opposed to “doctor” perspective on what my cancer looked like. His description exactly was, “It looks like manifest sin. It looks evil. It looks like charred cauliflower with black veins running through it. It looks mean; like it might growl at me.” There ya go, “human” perspective. As descriptive as this is, I am so thankful that my husband was able to see what has been trying to take me down this past year. Now I know not only what it is, but what it looks like.

With this new knowledge, we then met my doctor in her office. What a breath of fresh air. She had Christian sayings, bible verses, and angels populating her space. She could be a believer! My mom and step-dad joined us for this part of the appointment, so all 5 of us sat in chairs in a circle. My Oncologist started describing my cancer. Essentially the same things that my Gynecologist had explained. However, she restaged me at 1b1. Even better than 1b2! So, for now my cancer is stage 1, and that’s awesome.

During this meeting, she explained that I have a 10-20% chance that my cervical cancer could spread to my lymph nodes. Therefore, just to be sure, while I’m in surgery, she will biopsy them. Speaking of surgery, it is currently scheduled for a week from today. Wednesday 2/8, at 12:30pm. I’ll have to check in at 10:30am. I would love for as many people who want to pray with us to be there! All encouragement, support, and prayers are going to be deeply appreciated. The procedure will take about 2-3 hours. She will make an incision similar to a c-section, and remove everything that way.

Next steps from here are:

  1. PET scan
  2. Appointment with fertility doctor
  3. Surgery

My oncologist also filled me in on what my future will look like. As far as scans and testing for cancer go, here’s the schedule: Every 3 months for the first 2 years after treatment, I’ll have to get Paps and scans. Once I reach the 2 year mark cancer-free, I’ll then be checked every 6 months until I reach the 5 year point. If I have reached the 5 year marker with no cancer, I will officially be in remission. I can’t wait to get to 5 years!

Proverbs 1:7 (ESV)

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

01
Feb
2012

D-Day

D-Day for us means Diagnosis Day. When I woke up that morning, my first thought was, “Today is the 25th, and I just turned 25 this month.” It may not seem important to you, but those two “25’s” will forever help me remember this date.

To say this Wednesday began like any other is a lie. I was beyond nervous! My husband was with me, per my doctor’s request. Luckily, I’m blessed to have a partner who is the calm in my storms. He was holding my hand and encouraging me throughout our entire 17 hour (not really) wait in the waiting room. My nurse then came in and directed us to an exam room. After another seemingly 10 hours, my gynecologist finally arrived. Thank goodness she has the perfect combination of emotion and reality in her demeanor. If she hadn’t this meeting could have gone far different.

After sitting down, she gave it to me straight. With sadness in her eyes, she announced that I have cervical cancer. Although, I had imagined that idea in my head, I never could have been fully prepared to hear those words. Once it set in, my initial reaction was, “Well, now we finally have an answer!” Needless to say, my doctor was a little shocked at my response to this life-altering news. I asked if I could give her a hug. She said, “Of course! I wanted to right when I came in, but didn’t want to freak you out!”. Oh, Doc… a hug won’t freak me out! I dramatically thanked her for being such a blessing in our lives and for being the one and only doctor willing to go a little further and investigate something suspicious. She was and is my personal detective.

I then began to explain why my reaction was relief in hearing this news. Never thought you’d hear someone who just got diagnosed with cancer be relieved, did you?! Well, my relief stems from this ongoing unknown battle. I finally found out what I was fighting! When you know everything about your opponent, its weaknesses, strengths, favorite hang-outs, morals, and fighting tactics, you can better defeat it. Oh wait, did I say morals? Cancer doesn’t have any. It fights dirty. Which means, I have to fight dirtier. Now I finally know what to do. Now I am able to pick up my armor and weapons. I felt like I had been fighting a war with only my hands.

Once our hugging session was complete, my doctor further went on to explain to me the technicalities of the situation. I was staged at 1b2 originally. That’s right in between 1 and 2. There are 5 stages, so being in between the lowest was another relief. From what she could tell, the cancer is only on my cervix. My tumor is 4cm…about the size of a golf ball.

There are 3 options for treatment.

  1. Surgery
  2. Radiation
  3. Chemotherapy

She highly recommended surgery. After asking what that would entail, I almost immediately regretted the question. I will have to have what’s called a “radical hysterectomy”. For those who don’t know what that is (I wish I still didn’t know), it’s a procedure in which the surgeon removes the entire uterus, cervix included, the surrounding walls, and the top part of the inside of my vagina. Luckily, the cancer hasn’t affected my ovaries, so we can keep those. Hooray. However, you kinda need a uterus to carry a baby. So, without one, I will never be able to be pregnant. For those who know me, this is a HUGE blow. I’ve spent my whole life desperately wanting children. Not only am I a stylist, but I’m also a nanny, and therefore my adoration of kids is obvious. Never in a million years, would I think me being pregnant would be compromised. We’ve imagined having children with disabilities, miscarriages, twins, but never the deleted option of pregnancy. Oh, well. Like I said, seemingly sarcastic above, hooray that we get to keep my ovaries. Seriously, HOORAY! Ovaries are what produce eggs. Eggs combined with sperm create babies. Babies only need A womb to live in for the first 9 months. Add this all together, and you get the option of surrogacy. Praise God for women out there who give their wombs as a gift to those of us who can’t carry our own.

Due to the option of surrogacy, my gynecologist further went on to explain that we will need to see a fertility doctor. I also need to meet with an oncologist- aka: cancer doctor. Thankfully, she knows a lot of great doctors in the area, and referred me to the best. And I mean, the best. You’ll find out in my upcoming entries, how great my team of doctors truly is. Not only will I be blessed with top-notch doctors, but God slipped another blessing into the mix. In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) is extremely expensive. However, the most expensive part of the process are the meds they have to put you on. Guess what? The Lance Armstrong Foundation (Fertile Hope) will be covering the costs for ALL of my fertility meds. How in the world do I qualify for that?! Well apparently, Lance Armstrong, because he fought cancer, started Fertile Hope for people affected by cancer who are unable to have children the traditional way. Thank you, God, for healing Lance Armstrong of cancer, so he can help us have children! He definitely thinks ahead. God always covers all the bases. My next step from this point will be to meet with my oncologist. I look forward to finding out more about this defeatable beast inside of me.

I am reminded that God has gone before me. Hallelujah.

Deuteronomy 30:8

“God is striding ahead of you. He’s right there with you. He won’t let you down; He won’t leave you. Don’t be intimidated. Don’t worry.”

01
Feb
2012

“That looks a little abnormal…”

Happy first-blog day to me! I finally have an uninterrupted moment to begin my blog entries. Today is the FIRST day in about a week that I haven’t had any appointments to go to, scans or tests to get done, meetings, or work to attend. I guess that’s the life of a cancer patient!

Let me start with what I’ll call “day 1”:

Monday, the 23rd of January, I went in to my Gynecologist to get an annual exam. During my exam, everything was going as expected, until my doctor told me she noticed that my cervix looked “a little abnormal”.  Of course, I wasn’t sure what that meant, so with further questioning, she explained. “Well, your ovaries and uterus feel very healthy, soft, pliable, and mobile, however, your cervix feels and looks a little abnormal. It’s hard… It feels like a flexed muscle. And it’s not very pink, like it should be.” She then decided to take 2 biopsies, which are obtained through a procedure called a “colposcopy”.

Once my colposcopy was completed, I asked her what she thought could be wrong with my cervix. She said my cervix appeared to have what looked to her like a fibroid. Fibroids are benign tumors that many women get in their reproductive systems. They are typically harmless and don’t affect much, unless they grow to be too big and need to be removed. My doctor then told me to come back the following Monday (1/30) to get a followup and discuss what the biopsy results were.

After scheduling my followup appointment, I left feeling curious and extremely hopeful. Maybe this doctor would be able to find something?!

Jeremiah 29:11-14 (Message Version)

“I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out- plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed. I’ll turn things around for you. I’ll bring you back from all the countries into which I drove you. Bring you home to the place from which I sent you off into exile. You can count on it.”

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