[ad_1]
I remember very well the day I got the news. I was in my ninth grade Spanish class and my sister, Lisa, appeared outside the classroom, looking solemn. I immediately felt a pit in my stomach. My mother, Terri, was waiting for the results of the breast cancer test.
When Lisa confirmed in the school yard what I felt in my belly, that my mother had breast cancer, this marked the beginning of an unforeseen and frightening experience for our family. I felt like a freshman in high school quite normal until now. When cancer hits, things move quickly. Major decisions are made quickly. Surgeries and treatments are planned. The atmosphere of a house fluctuates like a roller coaster. Everyone involved goes through an intense emotional journey. It is difficult to describe and fully quantify the impact of cancer on its victims and their loved ones. And although I never wish it again, it is also true that there were silver liners. I got closer to my mother, I was forced to become a more selfless person and even refined my sense of humor by realizing how lightness and laughter were essential to The healing.
Fortunately, my mother continues to defeat her cancer. For this week's awareness issue, I asked her (and she generously agreed) to think about the experience.
Peter Johnson: When did you suspect your breast cancer? What made you decide to have you examined?
Terri Lobdell: I probably would not be alive today if I did not self-test my breasts in November 2005. The size was hard and gritty, nothing to do with breast meat. normal. My hand jumped away like a hot stove. How could this be? Only five months earlier, I had a clean mammogram. I did not sleep that night. I knew that it was a cancer. The next day at my doctor's office, she felt the mass and became solemn. She did a needle biopsy and told me to wait for a call with the lab results in four to five days.
P J: When you were diagnosed, what was your first thought? At what stage was cancer and how aggressive was it?
TL: When the doctor called me to tell me that I had cancer, my first thought was, "I want this cancer to come out of my body as soon as possible." I want to live. It must be. " I have very little understanding of breast cancer at the time of diagnosis. I thought I would fight cancer until I died, too early. I did not realize that most people with breast cancer end up living a normal life after treatment. Although my type of breast cancer is particularly aggressive and difficult to treat if it reproduces or spreads, it has fortunately not yet established in the lymph nodes or parts of the body where breast cancer goes (brain, bone, liver or lungs). My cancer was classified as stage 2, mainly because of the size of the tumor.
P J: What are the challenges of deciding on a treatment plan?
TL: The first important and very personal decision was to know what type of surgery to undergo. The choice was a mastectomy or a lumpectomy. If I chose the latter, I would need radiotherapy after chemotherapy and it was possible that a mastectomy was in order after all. If I chose the mastectomy, I would not need radiation. But then I should also decide if I wanted a breast reconstruction. I had a strong foreboding on the way forward, namely a bilateral mastectomy without reconstruction. This surprised the doctors, which surprised me. It was not a difficult decision for me, even if it was deeply sad. I came back to my first ideas after the diagnosis: the fastest way to get the cancer out was to undergo a mastectomy without reconstruction (otherwise we would need a coordination with a plastic surgeon). This has had the benefit of limiting me to one major surgery and the absence of radiation. Although I miss the breasts almost every day, I am at peace with this decision. I am fully aware that most other women make a different choice, and I think it is a set of calculations also individual to do. No good or bad, and no good, really.
P J: How is chemotherapy going?
TL: The chemo was not as difficult as I had imagined, although it was a long work. I prepared myself (as for delivery) by talking with friends who had already gone through it, reading books and talking to oncology nurses. It seemed like a strange flu the first days. After that, I'll live again a little. I lost my hair (including eyebrows and the rest), took on a yellow-green hue and I still got used to not having breasts. I sometimes looked at myself in the mirror and wondered who was looking at me. It was a very strange feeling. I did not feel exactly like me.
P J: When your diagnosis was made, Lisa had just started her studies and I had just started high school. How did you experience the balance of your health with your family and shared this experience with us?
TL: My deepest wish was that the two children could continue to live as before. Almost immediately, I realized that it was not going to happen. Lisa and you were upset, worried, wanted to be included and do what you can to help. While I worried and felt guilty at some point of disrupting your young lives, my heart was as filled with love as you responded with such obvious attention and compassion. I also immediately recognized your need to make sure everything was fine, and I knew that you would rely on your father. Yet my own fears and the many logistical demands and disruptions of my life often consumed me. I was afraid I could not give you the means to mother you properly during this time. I did not want my own fears to become contagious, knowing that I probably could not control that. It was hard to try to be the kind of mother I wanted to be at the heart of this storm and I worried a lot about the impact it would have had on you.
P J: What are the things that gave you hope, strength and comfort during your fight?
TL: It was mostly family and friends. One of my strongest memories of daily comfort has been watching friends episodes with you. You liked to hear me laugh and thought friends would do the business. It made! We laughed a lot everyday, and it was one of my favorite moments even the most miserable days. I have also taken advantage of some incredible services offered by the Stanford Cancer Center (free for all members of the community). These included restorative yoga, a group of writing, Healing Touch, sessions of art therapy and guided imagery. All of this has allowed me to discover new paths to meaningful learning and growth. I've also read with passion during cancer treatment. I have mostly read about the links between emotions and physical health, but also about Buddhist philosophy and other spiritual practices. I've read about relationships, boundaries and creativity. I had become very thirsty for knowledge, on how to better understand myself, to feed the sides of me that I had long ignored and to develop a more tolerant attitude towards death in general.
P J: October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. What do you think people should be aware of the disease?
TL: All women should do self-exams regularly. If something goes wrong, consult a doctor! If you are diagnosed, do not hesitate to seek the help of family, friends, religious communities, non-profit organizations, books, a health clinic, and so on. If you know someone who has been diagnosed with cancer, do not hesitate to take steps to show support. Send a card, a book or a small gift; register to bring a meal; offer to visit or take a walk. Do not judge the choices of a person diagnosed with breast cancer. We are all different in how we handle a health crisis.
P J: You have been cancer free for more than a decade. What does it feel like cancer is spreading in the rearview mirror?
TL: It's really good to be almost 13 years old without cancer. My oncologist said "cured". Of course, I'm 65 now, so I know that there is no guarantee. But it's wonderful to put cancer so far behind me. I am very grateful for that. I always hoped to see my children reach adulthood, and that's what happened. Δ
Assistant Editor Peter Johnson feels proud of his mother at the address [email protected].
Source link
