She Realized That Keeping Cancer Details A Secret Didn’t Protect Her Family — It Scared Them
Rays of Resilience: 31 Stories in 31 Days. So many people around the world have been affected by breast cancer, yet no two breast cancer journeys are the same. This Breast Cancer Awareness Month, we’re celebrating a new survivor every day. Their resilience is an inspiration to us all.
My name is Teresa.
I was at the tanning salon to get in a quick 10 minutes of fake sun, and I had disrobed in front of a mirror; ten minutes later I was up and getting dressed in front of the same mirror when I noticed a protrusion on my left breast. I thought to myself, I didn’t see that this morning after my shower and I didn’t see it when I disrobed 10 minutes ago.
I immediately drove home and found my family doctor, who was a friend and neighbor, and had him take a look. Five years prior — almost to the date — I had lost my grandmother to breast cancer, and 15-plus years before that my great-grandmother. They both succumbed to cancer of the left breast. So my doctor knew my family history and acted quickly with a call to our local breast imaging center, and I was in the office on Monday afternoon having a mammogram, ultrasound and then a needle biopsy.
Two days later my world changed forever.
I was diagnosed with non-invasive intraductal carcinoma of the left breast. My husband and I sat together as our good friend and doctor delivered this news. I don’t know who was more upset, he or my husband and I. When the word “non-invasive” is looked up, it means that the cancerous lesion is contained to the duct and has not spread, giving it to be a stage 0 — but my little lesion had already left the duct and I was a stage 1.
They immediately set up a course of action. Two weeks later I was scheduled for surgery. My surgeon removed the tumor along with 20+ lymph nodes for two reasons: one, to rule out that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes, and, two, because of my family history, I was young enough (41 years old) to treat aggressively.
I was supposed to get six months of a chemo cocktail called the red devil once a month, but I got thru four before we had to stop. The cure is worse than the cancer. Radiation followed for weeks and months after that. I did all this while working; I never stopped, never gave up. I had two boys and my husband to think of, and all I could think about was, “Am I going to survive this?” I had held my grandmother as she took her last breath and I had seen what it had done to her body, and I knew I didn’t want this for me or my family, so I never gave up. I chose the doctors from my hometown; my surgeon was a friend and neighbor. I just wanted to be close to home and I have never regretted that decision.
My husband was my strength, my nurse, my caregiver. My boys shaved their heads when my husband shaved mine in our backyard. I had spent two years growing my hair from a short haircut to shoulder length when two weeks to the date after the first chemo treatment it starting falling out. So we all went to the backyard and got haircuts. It was June of 2002 and hot. I tried wigs but it was just too hot, so I wore beautiful scarves and big beautiful earrings. My grandmother used to tell me when I was little girl, “Brush your hair every night before you go to bed, your hair is your crowning glory.” And mine was all laying at my feet in my backyard. This was one of the worst side effects of the cure for me. The doctors told me I would have long term side effects.
When I was diagnosed, my husband and I decided that we wanted our boys to have as much normalcy as possible. We did not want their routines to change and we did not want them to worry, so everyone did what they would normally do every day, and either go to work or go out and see their friends. My boys then were 10 and 17. I didn’t want my boys to see me suffer as the rounds of chemo started to beat me up. I would take my treatments on a Thursday afternoon after work, get up and go to work on Friday, take advantage of a good day on Saturday because by Sunday I would be completely wiped out, and back to work on Monday.
I didn’t ask my boys then how they felt about everything going on; I thought, this is my disease and why scare them? I should have talked to them — they were scared they just never told me. I personally think talking about it helps and could be therapeutic for some. I hope there are more support groups now. My support group was my husband, a few close friends and a dear friend that was diagnosed a few months before I was. There were no groups of women to get together and tell their survivor stories.
My chemo treatments — wow, I was the youngest in the treatment room. Everyone else was 65+ and when I would walk in they would look at me and say, “Really? But you’re so young.” Cancer does not discriminate! My last round of radiation was at Christmas and I got a certificate of completion and they rang the bell in celebration! It wasn’t until after Christmas that I realized how it had effected our 10-year-old son.
His teacher sent home a paper he had written for a class project titled “What is your favorite Holiday?” My son answered:
My most favorite holiday is Christmas. It is my favorite holiday because you get presents and you spend time with your family and you get gifts. This is a good holiday because my mom had breast cancer a couple of months ago and when she scan for cancer again there was no cancer. So this will be the best Christmas of my whole life.
Thank you god for my mom’s health
Yours Truly
This broke my heart. I didn’t realize the struggle this little guy was going through. I asked him now, at the age of 26, what he remembers, and he says not much around the time of the cancer but more years later, when I had a double mastectomy with a total reconstruction. He had been worried I wouldn’t make it out of the 9-hour surgery. And he worried because of my silence. I thought I was protecting him. Wrong! This surgery spawned from suspicious activity in the right breast and I decided enough was enough and let’s get rid of them both. I was not to be terrorized by this disease.
I asked my oldest son at dinner the other night how he felt all those 16 years ago and he said, “Mom, remember how we used to sit and watch Lifetime together?” and I said, “Yes, I do, every Sunday we would sit and watch Lifetime movies all afternoon.”
He said, “I did that because I knew how much you enjoyed them and I wanted to spend that time with you. I didn’t want to have any regrets later on.” My son spent every Sunday afternoon with me that summer. I didn’t realize that he was doing that for me; I thought he really liked Lifetime movies (he doesn’t). We both got a good laugh.
Again, that’s how they dealt with it, because I didn’t want their lives upset because of the cancer and I didn’t talk to them about it. I didn’t want to scare them and that wasn’t fair, and I scared them by my silence. I should have talked to them about everything I was going through; I thought I was protecting them and instead I scared them. Now, I wish I would have included them. Lesson learned: Your family needs to know everything that’s going on!
My husband and I went through a lot of emotions. I thought of myself as damaged, scarred for life, that he wouldn’t want to look at me. I was wrong, as he still saw the person I was B.C. (Before Cancer). He saw my scars as badges of honor, and me as a survivor, a warrior. I didn’t see it that way so the mental effects were just as devastating to me as the cancer.
Again, I tried to protect everyone by my silence when I should have been sharing what I was truly feeling, and I realize now that was the wrong thing to do. Your spouse is your partner and as long as we have been married — going on 30 years — we are truly one person and we feel each other’s emotions and physical pains. Again I didn’t realize he was going through this on his own all because I wouldn’t open up about the cancer, I just wanted to protect him.
I would like to think now that when you and your spouse are meeting with all the doctors, surgeons, etc., that someone is offering counseling or where to find support groups for this disease. It’s important to talk and see others that have come through this with their stories of survival.
Cancer research and the support of this research is so important and I see the difference 16 years has made. Support the research!
I am 16 years in remission and I thank God every day for his blessings and his hand over all my doctors, guiding them to heal me during that time, because in that 16 years I have received God’s greatest gift — and that is becoming a grandmother. We have four, one boy and three girls. I am so blessed to be able to stand here today, alive, to love these precious babies. The only side effect I think I have is “chemo brain.” My days of memory lapse are either from the red chemo cocktail or just age creeping up me. LOL.
Yearly screenings are a must; don’t let these slip by just because you feel good. Make the appointment and get it done!
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