I think I will always consider September 8th to be my cancer-versary. People will talk about the day as one they will never forget. The day they found out they had cancer. And while I might also just block out the time from
It’s been the cancer coaster. That’s what I call the last 6 months. I’ve been on the Cancer Coaster. And it started with a call from Deb, my angel nurse from Nebraska Med, calling to let me know that I have DCIS. Then Stage 1. Then, eventually, because it was, indeed, present in the nodes, I was Stage 2. And Deb stood by me every step of the ride. She navigated the rails for me. She helped me figure out how to stay sane. And what is normal and what is not for a breast cancer patient {you too, Catherine!!!}.
And to date I’ve completed 6ish rounds of chemotherapy. And last week… a bilateral mastectomy. And the mastectomy… it was the scariest part after first round of chemo for me. Because of the unknowns. I was terrified that I wouldn’t wake up. Or that when I did, there would be worse news than I expected. I told you all, I. was. scared. Through so much of this, I’ve been afraid that 33 to 34 years was all I’d be given walking this earth. And the idea of leaving my husband. My beautiful boys. And my family and friends. All the beautiful parts of this life… The idea of having to go out at 33 from cancer, that made me scared.
And then, today. Today I got a call. And it brought all of this… this last 6 months… right into the forefront. It was like I was on a movie where someone wakes up after hitting their head and the whole world and events of the last 6 months are swirling around them in pictures. Their life is literally flashing before their eyes.
Today, I got the call…
“Ashli, it sounds like you were sleeping. Would you like me to call back?” I knew it was Deb, my nurse, and I never want Deb to call back… I want to talk with her every time I can. But it didn’t occur to me what she could be calling about.
“No no… I’m good… I always sound tired right now.”
“Well, how are you feeling?”
“I’m good… tired and sore… but I’m doing alright.”
“Well. We got your pathology results back.”
“What?! You did? Is it that time already. Omygosh. Okay. Okay.”
“Well, we are all very happy. Let me look through here. Yes. We just met on you. And we can’t call you 100% response.”
“Ohhhhh…. because the lymph nodes were bad?”
“No no, sweetie. The lymph nodes were amazing. In fact, the first two nodes that we took during the sentinel node biopsy months ago were the only that presented signs of disease. All 14 we took this time, those were not only clear but showed no evidence of every having any disease.”
“Wha?! Oh. Oh. Oh! Ohmygoodness!! Deb!”
“And then, as we mentioned, there was a small lump that we pulled out, that was still in the lymphovascular spaces, and it was a malignant tumor. It appears to be the remnants from the original 2 cm centimeter tumor that we found prior to starting chemo. So technically, while you weren’t “full-response” to the chemo, we got all the tumor out and have all clear margins.”
“Wow. Whoa. Oh my goodness. I love you so much, Deb.”
“Yes, so we will talk with Dr. Wahl about if radiation is a yes or no. But you, my dear are currently without cancer in your body. You did awesome.”
“I don’t have any cancer right now? What do I do now?”
“You heal. You have a lot of healing ahead of you. Physically. Mentally. You figure out radiation. And then, you figure out what tomorrow looks like… without cancer.”
“I love you. And Dr.s T and T. I love you all over there.”
…..
I didn’t expect that call, friends. I expected that it was all over the lymph nodes. I expected that there would be much more tumor hiding in there. I didn’t expect for the staging to decrease. And for them to be questioning if radiation is even necessary. But again, I’ve been showered with goodness. And just like that. Last September 7, I didn’t think I had cancer. And then, by the 8th, I did. Yesterday morning, March 2, I still had cancer, and today, today I am waking up with the knowledge that I do not have active breast cancer. I may have radiation. I will definitely have another reconstructive surgery. Even though the C has left the building, we still have to clean up from the mess she left behind.
The roller coaster just stopped for now. And I am battered and bruised from the ride. I am also filled with exhiliration and happiness from the feelings left behind by the highs. I am filled with disbelief as I sort of can’t believe it’s technically outta there. I am filled with pride, a bit, that I made it through the ride. And so much gratitude for the goodness and kindness and care that I received all through it. And as I continue to heal.
I wrote it down. On a post-it. Because that’s what you do with life’s really big moments. You make small daily reminders. And you take steps toward goodness and making life worth being around for.