Anniversaries are odd things. They can mark something good or bad. Something to celebrate or something to mourn. 5 years. October 7th will mark five years since I got the call from the doctor. “April, your recent biopsy shows cancer present.” 

The next day I would be getting an MRI and the day after that I would sit in the doctor’s office with my husband as she laid it all out on the table. Stage III extensive, invasive ductal carcinoma.  HER2+, estrogen positive and it had already spread to nearby lymph nodes. It had only been a little over a year since my last mammogram.  I had breast cancer. I had no symptoms, no lumps. There was something inside me growing, spreading and slowly killing me. How did I not know? What if I hadn’t gone that day for the mammogram? How was I going to tell my family? What were we going to tell our girls? Was I strong enough to fight this?  Was I going to die?

Everything was moving so fast.  Additional tests and scans to make sure the cancer had not spread elsewhere and having a Port implanted.  Learning about the protocol (TCHP) and all the things to expect from the medications (the bad, the really bad and the downright miserable). 

I would receive a total of 6 chemotherapy treatments, and they would be spaced out every 3 weeks because they said that was how long it took your body to recover.  

A double mastectomy, 6 weeks of daily radiation and additional infusions of Kadcyla every three weeks until the end of 2021 followed.  Now I continue my quarterly injection of Lupron and my daily Arimidex to shut my hormones down.  No hormone production allowed.  Those side effects?  Not pleasant.

Approaching 5 years since my diagnosis and I can say that Cancer still hasn’t left me. She has made her mark and continues to be with me every day. Sometimes she sits quietly in the background and just kind of hangs around as I go about my day. Other days she is screaming at me not to forget and she digs in her heels. Some days she makes it hard to focus. Many nights she makes it hard to sleep.

They don’t tell you that the hard part comes after the surgeries and treatments. Less doctor appointments, less scans, less blood work. During treatment my only focus was getting from chemo to surgery to radiation. I had a plan. Then, there I was, trying to regain the life I had before all this mess started. I didn’t know I had Cancer. There were no signs. How do they know for sure that they got it all? If it comes back, will we catch it in time? How much time do I have? Every headache, body ache, twinge and bump puts you into an irrational mini panic. How many times had I ignored a health issue, no matter how minor, because I was too busy taking care of everyone else.

Once Cancer has entered your life, I don’t think she ever goes away, not completely anyway.

People say, “I don’t know how you did/do it”. My simple answer is that I didn’t have a choice. Fighting is the only choice.