The day before my husband's birthday in May, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I didn't even feel a lump. I had visited my OB-GYN on Solomon's first birthday for my annual checkup, and after reviewing my family history my doctor recommended I take the MyRisk Hereditary Cancer Risk assessment. I figured there was no reason not to, so I paid the $150, gave the necessary blood sample, and promptly forgot about it.
A month later, I was back in her office to review the results, which indicated I had a 37% lifetime risk of developing breast cancer; above the 20% average, which put me in high-risk territory. I was referred to a breast specialist, who recommended monitoring through MRI and mammogram every six months (despite the fact that - at 37 - I'm not even eligible for regular mammograms; that starts at 40). Of course I agreed, and off I went for my first breast MRI "to establish a baseline" to compare future scans against.
To our shock, that initial MRI showed a mass that warranted a biospy. Fast forward a few weeks and we got the news: stage 2b invasive ductal carcinoma, Her2-positive.
I'm lucky that my cancer is early stage and considered highly treatable, in large part thanks to developments in targeted Her2 therapies that were approved by the FDA as recently as 2006. My prognosis is good. But that doesn't mean treatment doesn't suck.
This picture was taken the week before I started chemotherapy because I wanted some photos with Sol while I still looked and felt like me. Thank goodness I'm now almost done with chemo, and - due to another new-ish technology called cold capping - I've retained most of my head hair (so far). Surgery is on the horizon after that, and then more than likely radiation and reconstruction. Next fall I am hopeful that I'll be able to celebrate Rosh Hashanah cancer-free.
However, I am not alone in this fight. Cancer rates are rising in younger adults; breast and colorectal cancer rates, in particular. 1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime and the rate of early onset diagnosis is rising about 1% every year. 1 in 5 people diagnosed with colorectal cancer are now under the age of 55.
If you've read this far, I have to ask you two things:
1. Will you agree to keep up with your annual well visits, and ask your doctor about your cancer risk? If you have a family history, consider asking specifically about the MyRisk assessment. If you're a person with breasts who is 40 or older, schedule your annual mammogram and remember to do it every year. Early detection saves lives. It's probably going to save mine.
2. Will you consider donating to my Race for the Cure team? In just a few weeks, I will don a pink T-shirt at my local Komen walk with Eli, Sol, and a few friends. The incredible funding for breast cancer research is what contributed to the Her2 targeted treatment I am currently taking. Your support means so much to me.