My cancer diagnosis story — This is a vulnerable expression of what I've experienced and a story of what started as a little lump that has now taken over my life and body. On July 5, I noticed a small lump in the top of my right breast. It felt a little smaller than a marble. Having had a massage a few days prior I brushed it off. Still there 2 weeks later, I called my OB for an annual and breast exam. They could fit me in for a breast exam the following week. On July 24, I was told by the doctor it doesn’t feel like much, and since I stopped breastfeeding in March that it could be a lingering clogged duct, so try hot compress, and pumping to get it out. Being skeptical it was that in the first place, and after a few failed pumping attempts, I decided to wait it out until I saw my usual OB the following week for an annual. On August 6, I saw my usual OB, who did another exam, and said they didn’t really feel much, but if I feel there’s something there, then there’s something there, and I should get it looked at. I went for an ultrasound which then also turned into a mammogram on August 13. During that appointment, they said there was about a 1-1.25 cm mass, an enlarged lymph node, and calcifications in my right breast which can be early markers for breast cancer. That was the first appointment I heard those words mentioned. On August 20, I went for a biopsy of the mass and one lymph node. He took 3 clips out of the breast and two out of the lymph node to then be sent to pathology for testing. After the biopsy, I asked how long the results take to get and if they come back benign, would it have to be removed. That’s when the tone in the room shifted. He said, “I would be very surprised if it came back benign with the other indicators that I’m seeing.” Waiting 2 days for results felt like forever, I was obsessively checking my patient portal, until the website wasn’t working for a day. On August 22, after I just had Ellory down for a nap my phone started buzzing. I immediately jumped up and ran into the other room to answer it without waking her up. It was the doctor that was there for my mammogram and took the biopsy. He said “Your result came in, and I wanted to call you to let you know. I’m sorry, but the biopsies did come back malignant.” He then let me know that the office would be calling me to set me up with an appointment with an oncologist and surgical breast specialist. Being told you have to see an oncologist is terrifying. After hanging up, I instantly called my mom. I couldn’t stop crying to be able to get the words out to tell her. During our phone call, I got a call from the office's nurse navigator. She asked if the doctor shared the specific type and breakdown of the cancer and asked if I’d like to know. She said, “You have an Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, it’s one of the most common types of breast cancer, but is also very aggressive.” I was told that it was then triple positive, meaning it’s Estrogen, Progesterone, and Her2 receptive, again making it more aggressive. Hearing all that information without knowing what it really meant was overwhelming and terrifying. My first appointment with my oncologist was set for August 26, which made 5 days feel like forever, and gave me way too much time to google every little thing, good and bad. Trying to embrace what felt like the last few days of normal life before cancer takes it over was really fucking hard, plus add on lack of sleep, working, moving, half-finished house projects, and caring for two young kids to it. With still so many unanswered questions, my emotions were going through the stages of grief, from what life was to what it was going to be whether I was ready or not. I got some clarity during my oncology appointment on what the outlook for treatment could look like, but still needed more testing until a plan was set. It felt good to have some clarity but still left with so many questions and what ifs. They also took my blood for genetic testing to see if I have the BRCA gene or another genetic abnormality that could be passed on to our girls. Talk about a mom's biggest fear, plus add having to wait 4 weeks for results. On August 28, we met with a fertility clinic about egg preservation. Then a few hours later I had my first appointment with a breast surgeon and was further explained what the next 5 years of my life would look like. I quickly learned that this was not going to be something that would be quickly treated and done with. There were still so many “depending on” until further testing for spread and stage happened. The earliest PET scan appointment wasn’t available for another 3 weeks, so it was 3 weeks of having to live with knowing I have cancer, but not knowing how bad it is. Everyone says try to stay positive, which is way easier said than done in that scenario. I tried to look at the fact that I otherwise felt “good” as a positive factor that hopefully hasn’t spread anywhere else. In a short time frame, I had to make a lot of decisions that would impact my future, no pressure. I decided to also do an egg retrieval in case we decide we’d like another child in the future since treatment can affect fertility. On September 6, I had back-to-back appointments again, my first one at the fertility clinic for an ultrasound, bloodwork, and to start medication. My second one was finally my MRI, which caused way too much stress and frustration to get scheduled due to miscommunication between doctors' offices. September 9 was another day of back-to-back appointments that were over an hour's drive away from each other, with a fertility appointment in the morning and an echocardiogram in the afternoon. I’ll have to continue to get an echocardiogram every 3 months because one of the medications in the treatment regimen can have effects on the heart. On Friday, September 13, I had my long-awaited PET scan, good thing I’m not a superstitious person. My oncologist called me Saturday morning to go over the results. Thankfully, everything else came back clean not showing signs of spreading outside of the breast and lymph node! I took it as a victory because, during an overall shitty situation, you have to find the little wins. The following week was a busy one. Carl and I headed to Buffalo on Sunday for my second opinion. It was nice to have some time just the two of us since finding out. On Monday, September 16, my mom, Carl, and I met with a breast surgeon and oncologist at Roswell Park Cancer Center. The oncologist had the same plan for treatment as the one I met locally, which was nice to hear some consistency. They told me the size of the lump is small only about 1-1.25 cm, which would be considered stage one, but since it’s also in my lymph node, that brings me to stage 2. I left feeling confident in doing treatment locally at home since it would be more convenient and I felt comfortable with my oncologist here. I plan to do my surgery in Buffalo since I feel more comfortable with the surgeon there, her expertise, and it is one of the leading Cancer Centers in the country. On Wednesday, I got my port put it. The thought of it still creeps me out, but everyone says it makes doing treatment a lot easier, so you don’t have to get an IV every time. A week later and I’m still getting used to it. It’s feeling better, and now I can lightly touch it without getting freaked out. Thursday, September 19 was my egg retrieval. The doctor retrieved 37 eggs, and we were able to freeze 36, so taking that as another little win (especially if we wanted to have our own football team one day). That day and the following my body was feeling sore and a little tired from two back-to-back procedures and 2 days of anesthesia. On Friday, was the second appointment with my oncologist, where we finally went over all my testing results, and talked about what the next steps would actually look like. She had the genetic testing results, and everything came back negative! Talk about a big win feeling as a mom of two young girls! Next up was my teach appointment on the 23rd. I met with a PA to talk about all the medications, side effects, protocols, what to expect during treatment, and an overwhelming amount of information. Shit was getting even more real. I made the decision to start the following week, so I could have a hopefully quieter normalish week left before starting to do something fun as a family, celebrate Ellory’s second birthday, and get some more things done around the house. Yay, to FINALLY being homeowners after 2+ years of looking. Honestly, I am so thankful that we have a home to be in during this long journey ahead. My first treatment will be on October 3. I’ll be doing a 6-cycle treatment of TCHP, one cycle every 3 weeks, so 18 weeks total. Each treatment will take 5-6 hours, so long days in the chemo suite, lucky me. After that, I will have surgery, around February. Hoping for clean margins and that the chemo does its job the first time, so then I move to radiation, and only the HP part of the treatment plan continued for a full year, which targets the Triple Positive, mainly Her2 receptors. I honestly hate using the word treatment because I feel like it glamorizes that it’s chemotherapy and it’s going to fucking suck. I’ve been told so many times that you’re so young, so you might have different (hopefully lighter) side effects than someone older, which is great but makes me angry at the same time. I am young, I have no family history of breast cancer, I've never smoked, I'm conscious about the kind of food I buy and products I use, and overall live a pretty healthy lifestyle, so why the fuck me? BUT, I’m also very lucky, I have a huge family and group of friends who have shown me so much love and support these last extremely difficult weeks, that I am so incredibly thankful for, and I know they will continue to through this long journey. I’m also strong because I was raised by an incredibly strong woman, who has been to almost all my appointments with me. I have a great husband, who has been working hard to make our new home a comfortable place for myself and the girls, and who will be pulling more than his half while I’m not feeling great. This past month from diagnosis to now has been the roughest month of my life. They say this part is the hardest — the not knowing and awaiting more answers to get a plan. I’ve had endless appointments, countless times of being poked including 2 missed IVs, spent a ridiculous number of hours researching and learning everything I can about my cancer, had to be put under anesthesia twice, and have experienced swelling, bruising, and soreness from the biopsy, injections, and procedure’s I’ve had within the month. My body feels less like mine lately because of it all. The girls are starting to notice some changes as we’ve tried to explain as well as an almost 2 and 4-year-old can grasp, saying I’m a little sick right now, but I’ll get better. Aveira asks me daily “Mommy, do you have an appointment today?” I’ve noticed that leaving the house for appointments she’s starting to get a little more emotional and wants a dozen hugs and kisses before I leave. I knew going through this journey as a mom was going to be difficult, especially seeing the effects it has on them. Everyone’s told me kids are resilient, they’ll get through it and be stronger from it, but wow is it hard as a mom to know you won’t be able to be everything you used to be for them for a while. I’m anxious to see how they handle the next year and see the changes that I’m about to go through. It feels good to write this out of my system, and if you’ve made it this far through my story, I hope this serves as a reminder to get your boobs checked! I’m 32 years old, I don’t have a family history of breast cancer, and I never would have thought this would be part of my story right now, but I’m glad I’m aware of my body, listened to my gut, and advocated for myself to get an earlier diagnosis. 1 in 8 women will experience breast cancer, so please, if you feel like something isn’t right with your body advocate for yourself, don’t push it off! I appreciate all the love and support I’ve felt from everyone so far, so thank you! Sadly, you don’t realize how many people are really in your corner and want to support you until you need them to be. I feel like we often make it hard on ourselves to ask for help, but I know to get through what is going to likely be the shittest year of my life, I’m going to need all the love and support around me. THANK YOU for being here and following along. Wishing you all the love, health, and happiness! XO, Shealena