Tell us about your survivor journey.
November 12, 2018 – the day I sat in the chair at the oncologist’s office and wept as my husband held me tighter than I ever knew I needed someone to hold me.
Life is a journey that no one tells you what to expect or any true instructions how to handle valleys in life, but is supposed to be a journey that we all hope is full of happiness, joy, and personal growth, not an unexpected cancer diagnosis at the age of 47 shortly after my older sister passed away from metastasized breast cancer.
November 2, 2018 was a very typical Friday spent with my daughter, Amanda, who had recently returned unexpectedly from Uganda from a medical study abroad internship. We spent the day laughing, shopping, and ended the day with my yearly mammogram, something I dread every year. Although I dread this appointment, I have always been told from medical professionals that with my lifestyle, breast cancer is one of the diagnosis I should be least worried about. Just shortly before my sister, Kellie, passed away, we met with a genetic counselor to have genetic testing ruled out to assure my sisters and I did not carry the BRCA gene. The results came back negative.
Sunday November 4, 2018 was a day that was leading up to the day that forever changed my life. I came home from our cabin, which we had spent the weekend at, and read an email sent from my doctor stating there was a new MyChart message with test results from my mammogram. I debated whether to open the email or to wait until Monday to get a call from my doctor with the results, or even better, no call at all. I just couldn’t wait in suspense for a whole day, so I opened the email and read there were abnormalities found within my breast tissue, an enlarged lymph node, and a bunch of other medical terms that I had not the slightest clue what they could mean, but I knew they could not mean positive results. As soon as the clinic opened Monday morning, I called my provider and scheduled the first open appointment to go over my results, which wasn’t until Tuesday, which meant another entire day of waiting. The appointment on Tuesday suggested that I have an ultra-sound done of my right breast, where the abnormal tissue was detected in the mammogram, and a biopsy of the tissue and enlarged lymph node to rule anything out. The ultra-sound was done the same day, but I had to wait until Wednesday to have the biopsy done. The waiting was killing me. Wednesday morning was my biopsy and hearing the words from my radiologist, “you don’t have just a cyst, you have a mass” which was not what I wanted to have her tell me. From the time of my biopsy on Wednesday, I had to wait until Monday morning to get a call from my OB saying that my husband and I should come in as early as we could to go over my results from the biopsy.
November 12, 2018 – the day. The day that I never knew I could cry out for help from the Lord the way I was doing that day. 8:30 A.M., my husband, Bill, and I walked into the doctor’s office hoping for the best but partially expecting the news we were about to receive. 47 years old and stage 2 invasive ductal carcinoma was my new diagnosis. I could not believe this would ever happen to me, just like everyone else who receive this or similar diagnosis. Life is supposed to be a happy and joyful journey, not a journey with a cancer diagnosis. Right after the initial diagnosis, I was immediately referred to the Coborn Cancer Center, the place I now call home. As I was sitting in the chair, completely numb, all I wanted to do was wake up from this horrible dream and have life go back to the way it was supposed to be. Unfortunately, my oncologist, confirmed the diagnosis and ordered a PET scan for the next day, Tuesday.
My faith has always been a major part of who I am and what I lived each day for. My faith taught me that life was not supposed to be easy, but more importantly that I serve a God much greater than anything I could experience in my lifetime. But on that day, November 12, 2018, I didn’t want to believe that life wasn’t supposed to be easy, I wanted to believe that God wasn’t supposed to let this type of thing happen to me. What I didn’t realize in that moment was the impact and ever life changing journey my family and I had ahead of us the next 12 months. Many nights were spent holding onto tiny yet meaningful words of affirmation I would hear my oncologist tell me or small bible passages I recently read, or someone would send to me out of the blue. I learned to trust God entirely with my life, even if that meant surrendering my entire life to his hands, which is easy to say but extremely hard to live out.
November 29, 2018 – first day of chemo, I was receiving 4 different drugs. 2 of the drugs were chemo drugs that I would receive 6 rounds of every 3 weeks. The other 2 drugs were immunotherapy drugs that I would be receiving for the next 12 months due to my cancer being ER+, which simply means my cancer was being fed off estrogen. Chemo was scary. Losing my long hair was scary. Life was scary at this point. What I did learn out of this fear though was the true importance of accepting help from others and especially learning how to fully trust the Lord that he was going to provide and create something beautiful out of this fear. Next step, surgery.
April 24, 2019 – surgery day. This meant that chemo was done, the toughest part. Smiles covered my family and I’s face, but only because we all knew God was going to guide the surgeons and protect me just as he has throughout this entire journey. Surgery was close to 8 hours and I had a radical double mastectomy, 11 lymph nodes removed, and a partial hysterectomy. The pain was excruciating, but the news that my family and I received from my surgical team was much more than we could’ve ever imagined and wished for. The surgeon’s words were, “Teresa reacted incredibly to the surgery and chemo. We, as her surgeons, could not have asked for it to go any better than it did. The pathology report came back with not one cancer cell left in her original borders and the chemo melted away her tumors”. My family was left in tears.
Recovery and radiation were tough and at some points, endless, but I made it through.
The next 12 months were full of new relationships, exponential growth in my faith, and beyond many blessings that would not have been remotely possible if it were not for my once devastating diagnosis. This is exactly what life is all about, valleys in life that present many areas of faith, happiness, joy, and personal growth.
Now, 13 months later, I am fully healed and giving back to everyone who played such a major impact in my life throughout the toughest 12 months. I am now working at the Coborn Cancer Center and supporting women through their journeys and reminding them each day that their journey is going to result in something much greater than they could’ve ever imagined. Life is a journey.
Who new such a devastating diagnosis could be so good? God did.
What has been the biggest source of support through your journey?
God
Family
Friends
Coborn Cancer Center
What are some lessons you have learned throughout your survivor journey?
Take one day at a time.
Live purely in each moment.
Be present.
Do not take anything in life for granted.
Do you have any advice for a newly diagnosed survivor? What would that advice be and why?
Take one step at a time, the journey is a process. Process one step at a time. Looking at the entire picture was overwhelming.
Trust the Lord and your doctors, they only want the best outcome for you.
Be open and accepting of help from others, you can not do this journey alone.
In the space below, feel free to add any additional information like extra stories, lessons to live by, meaningful life quotes, advice or unique factors that contribute to your survivor journey.
“By your stripes Jesus, I am healed”
“Say to those with fearful hearts, Be strong, and do not fear for you God is coming to destroy your enemies. He is coming to save you!” -Isaiah 35:4
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