FIRST COMES MARRIAGE, THEN COMES . . ?

I’m going to make a very ignorant statement right now. I thought only old people, genetically predisposed people, smokers, obese people, diabetic people, or alcoholics got cancer. I am none of those things and I was diagnosed with triple positive breast cancer at the age of 36-years- old. The jokes on me, eh?!

I never thought that lump resting between my left breast and my chest bone was a cancerous tumor. I had been working out at the gym hardcore at the time, (for what reason, I am not quite sure), so I thought it was a pulled muscle at best. I mean I was healthy as a horse! I ate my greens, took my vitamins, didn’t eat meat and worked out four times a week. But just 1 month later I was sitting in the doctor’s office with the results; I was healthy . . . except for the cancer.

Doctor: "Monique I wish I had better news, but it is cancer." Or maybe he said, “Monique the tumor is cancerous,” or maybe it was, “Monique too bad so sad, as healthy as you think you are, you got cancer smarty pants!”  I can’t really remember, but what echoed in my head was, IT’S CANCER. I felt my heart drop, or did it stop? I stopped breathing for sure and closed my eyes. Me: WTF?? Even today, almost 6 months later, I still can't believe it, I don’t feel like I have cancer. I always say, “I didn’t feel like I had cancer, until I had chemo.” (The chemo that saved my life I am sure), but I digress. Then I remember he moved me and my husband, Corey into a private room while he got my paper work together. As soon as I sat down I started to bawl uncontrollably. Corey was hugging me and I said, "WTF is he saying? He had to get it wrong, what about our plans, what about our BABY?! We had just gotten married 6 months prior and we said we would start trying to have a family that year, that month in fact. But a few weeks prior something inside me said, WAIT. I don't know what that was, God, the universe, my gut? I will never know. But I went to Corey and told him I think we should wait. I said, now didn't feel right and we could take the rest of the year to just enjoy being newlyweds. I didn’t want to rush to have kids, just because I was mid 30’s and we “should” hurry it up! Thank God, we did, or chemo (which needed to start ASAP), might have been out of the question and today we would be having a very different conversation. 

People ask, “What’s it like being diagnosed so young?” I don't know how to answer that. 36 is young yes, but I am sure no matter what age you are diagnosed it is F’d up either way. But for me, what was really impacted, (or so I thought), was my ability to start a family. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes cancer? That is not how the song goes! This diagnosis was like someone had shot me in both knee caps at the beginning of my race.

This was a real disruption to my and Corey future kin conversations:

Me: “Did you get the email I sent you?”

Corey: “The one with the little girl in the jumpsuit and sunglasses?”

Me: “Yes, she looks just like our daughter, no?”

Corey: “Ummmm not really.”

Me: “Yes, she does, she has my cheeks and your eyes!”

Corey: “How can you tell she is wearing sunglasses? LOL!”

Me: “She looks like the next child YouTube sensation!”

Corey: “YouTube?? How about we raise the next doctor or lawyer?”

Me: “Ugh . . . so boring!”  

Then after our first visit to the fertility specialist and she informed us that chemo causes birth defects and we can't start trying to conceive until 3 years post chemo . . .  if at all, I thought, F, WHAT’S THE POINT?! (I did freeze my eggs though just in case). It was like someone had stabbed me in the heart. After that I spent many months convincing myself I didn’t even want kids. I mean who wants a crying, poopy, suck your life savings for the next 21 years anyway? I DID!!!

Almost 6 months ago I was diagnosed and I thought it was the end of my world. I was going to sell everything and take me and Corey around the world on a last hooray. What I have learned over these many months is, doctors only know as much as they know, but they have no way of knowing what is going to happen with my cancer, my body, or my future. AND that includes whether we will be able to conceive. I have been very lucky up until this point. I responded well to chemo, YAY! Tumors are shrinking, YAY! I feel good and I am not laying in a depressed heap on the floor somewhere (Double YAY!). I get to keep my breast so far, lumpectomy surgery still healing from (YAY! But hurts like hell!), and 3 years from now we will have my 36-year-old eggs to try and conceive with if we need them. That child, YouTubing/doctor/lawyer is just waiting for us, I know it!

No matter what age you are diagnosed, cancer impacts your life, no matter what you have going on, it comes in and says, “Stop whatever you are doing, whatever you were thinking and however you were being and listen to me!” You are forever changed . . .  it changed me. So better that change comes sooner rather then later, no?

This post is part of Listen to HER2, a program hosted by Living Beyond Breast Cancer that highlights personal stories from people affected by HER2-positive breast cancer. Visit lbbc.org/ListentoHER2 for more stories about life with HER2-positive breast cancer.

Living Beyond Breast Cancer is a national nonprofit that provides educational resources and emotional support to people who have been impacted by breast cancer. Its goal is to provide information, community and support that you can trust, is easy for you to access and respectful of you and your situation. For more information, visit LBBC.ORG.

 

DIDN'T THEY WARN YOU?

First, I will apologize in advance if this post is not as coherent as the previous ones. The quickness I pride myself on, (and know myself to be), may be hidden under what they tell me is, “chemo brain,” a sort of fogginess that your mind endures while undergoing treatment. It has been 1 week since my first chemo treatment and today marks the day they tell me I will start feeling some what, “normal” again. Well those fuckers better be right because these last 6 days have been the worst days my body has ever experienced.

What I pictured I would be doing during this much-deserved time off:

1. Well resting of course (I have fucking cancer)
2. Reading books
3. Possibly learning a new language
4. Experimenting with new vegan recipes
5. Writing New York Times bestseller (of course)
6. Creating a new clothing line (I mean why not?)
7. Making my own line of #Fcancer emojis
8. Feng Shuing my bedroom (Note I mentioned this to Corey and his eye roll couldn’t have been more dramatic)
9. Doing my Taxes (that’s a lie)
10. Taking up yoga and start meditating (becoming all Zen and shit)
11. Binging on Netflix (of course)
12. Reflecting on the important things in life (you know like, #Fcancer emojis)   

The funny thing about chemo is it has a whole other plan that it never lets you in on. It sweeps in like a cloud and says something like, "You funny girl, this is not a vaca" . . . Fucker. 

The first day after chemo was fine, I mean I felt a bit tired but not too bad (you saw the last blog post I was ready to go!) By day two I thought maybe I would be, the one, who would beat all those adverse side effects chemo is so famous for:

Fatigue

Hair loss

Easy bruising and bleeding

Infection

Anemia (low red blood cell counts)

Nausea and vomiting

Appetite changes

Constipation

Fever (Just to name a few . . .)

I WAS WRONG! By day two in the afternoon shit went down. So yes I was warned, however it's like a mother telling a pregnant person that pushing a baby through your vagina, (sorry to be so graphic), is going to hurt like hell, are you ever really prepared for that? I'm just saying.

Let’s start with #1 FATIGUE. You know when I read that I was like, “OK I’ll be tired, no big deal, I know what that feels like, sort of like after a spin class, right?” HA! I KNOW NOTHING!!! I have tried to describe this feeling to people and the best comparison I could come up with is, it's sort of like being hit by a truck. How many people know what being hit by a truck really feels like? Not many. But one can imagine, right? WRONG!

It’s kinda like this . . .

• Walk down the stairs? Walking back up felt like I did an hour of CrossFit.
• Every conversation had a time limit, (one minute I’d be speaking the next I would feel like a hundred pound weight was sitting on my body).
• One minute I am staring at my husband so grateful he is here, the next I am wondering why is he taking so fast and so loud, (he later informs me was not the case), regardless it exhausted me and I need a nap.
• One minute I wish I was back in my old life, worrying about stupid shit like what to wear, the next I’m grateful that not combing my hair is a deal breaker because that would require lifting a brush.
• One minute I want to cry woe is me! The next? Well I am asleep to be quite honest, it takes way too much energy to even feel sorry for myself. LOL!

In short, my limbs felt like Jell-O, and every little movement took effort.

Then there is the nausea . . . one minute I’m famished and the next the smell or site of food is repulsive. Each day melts into the next, which I suppose is irrelevant when the only thing you have planned that day is to "keep you spirits up.” That's something people say to me, "keep your spirits up!" Or, “Monique it’s mind over matter,” (that one REALLY makes me want to take baseball bat to a knee cap). It’s like if I could have my mind tell my body to get it’s act together I would not have cancer, (AND my mind could alleviate, the constipation from hell, the 24-hour indigestion, the fluctuations in body temperature, the dizzy spells, metallic taste that pops up out of no where! The joint and muscle pain, the bouts of fever, and the chapped lips that stop shed a new layer of skin daily), all with the power of my mind! Wow I would be so powerful! Soooo I recommend not saying that to people undergoing chemo, just a tip.

**(Mood swings may or may not be a side effect as well, I can neither confirm or deny that).

In short CHEMO SUCKS! Not like in a getting a Brazilian wax, tattooing your face, ripping your fingernails away with pliers kinda sucks. More like . . . well like I said, unless you have done it, there really is no comparison. But hey today is better then yesterday, hooray for day 7!!!