My journey started on an August Friday in 2005 when I went in for my routine mammogram. Later that day I was called at home and told that I needed to go back to the clinic on Monday for an ultrasound. I asked if they found something and the lady replied, "I’m sorry, I just make the phone calls." It was just my luck that it was 4 p.m. on a Friday. That was the longest weekend ever! I ended up telling my family about the pending appointment because they could tell how distressed and nervous I was and I didn’t want them to think that I was upset with them.
Monday finally came and after the ultrasound I found out that I had calcifications on my right breast. Needless to say, I was relieved, as I was thinking about a different "C" word than that. I was told to return for another mammogram in six months and I left, feeling lucky, grateful and relieved.
In February, I scheduled the follow-up mammogram appointment for a Monday, thinking things would be better this time. However, they found a lump on my right breast, in a different location then the calcifications. I was informed that a biopsy could be performed that day or I could think about it and come back the next day. I said, "I’m here, let’s do it now." At that moment I knew that my life would be changed forever.
The next morning my husband went with me to hear the biopsy results. I just had a gut feeling that the news wasn’t going to be good and was glad that he was able to be with me. We went to the Breast Clinic and met Dr. Sandhu, who has become my guardian angel. I thought I was ready to hear the news; however, when she started to tell us I felt an overwhelming urge to stop her and said, "I need my daughters here so you can tell all of us." Dr. Sandhu said she would be glad to wait until my daughters arrived. About a half an hour later my three daughters and two son-in-laws arrived. We were all together and Dr. Sandhu went on to explain everything.
It was so strange. I could hear Dr. Sandhu talk, but nothing was soaking in. Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion. I’m the type of person who needs to be in control and know what is going to happen next. This information from Dr. Sandhu seemed foreign, strange, invasive, unknown – it scared me. Dr. Sandhu set up several tests, some starting that day. While we were waiting for those, my middle daughter and her husband went down to the gift shop and bought everyone in the family a pink breast cancer bracelet. This showed me that they were behind me and ready to support me during this battle that I was about to start.
My treatment plan was to have a lumpectomy followed by four rounds of chemo and six weeks of radiation. I had thought that chemo would start right after I was done healing from surgery. However, I came down with the flu and was quite sick, so chemo had to be delayed. This made me so frustrated because I had it etched in my brain that I was going to get through all these treatments and get my life back. It’s very hard to go from being healthy to having your life totally disrupted with health problems and medical appointments.
In the middle of April I was finally able to begin my first round of chemo. Before my hair fell out my daughters went with me to pick out a wig and some scarves. I knew that I had to make this into something fun (hey, when else would I become a cute blond?) and we had some good laughs with our shopping trip for “Mom’s new look.” When my hair started to fall out I decided to go ahead and get my head shaved, so we planned a family "hair cutting party." Our three daughters, two son-in-laws, and two grandkids took part in it, each taking a cut and putting it in a baggie as a keepsake. Then our middle son-in-law buzzed me. I have to say, I think it is every son-in-law’s dream to buzz their mother-in-law!
Losing my hair was, for me, one of the most difficult things about cancer. When I looked in the mirror, it didn’t seem like I was looking at myself, but at someone I didn’t know. However, several weeks later it was my birthday and my best friend gave me the perfect present — a photo album of 40 years growing up together. It was so funny to see all of the different hair styles that we had gone through! The last picture caught my eye; it was a recent picture at her dad’s funeral. I said, "I love my hair here." She laughed and said, "Karen, that’s your wig." It looked so good I forgot that it wasn’t my natural hair.
Another difficult effect from the cancer was the "chemo brain" I developed after I went through chemo and which I still experience at times. I would ask my family a question and find out that I had already asked it a couple of times, though I didn’t remember asking and I didn’t remember the answer. That was scary for me because I felt as if I was losing my mind and I didn’t know how long those chemo affects would last.
Finally, I celebrated completing chemo and radiation by walking in the Join the Journey 10 Mile Walk with my middle daughter. This was my "coming out day," the first day I didn’t wear a scarf or wig in public. It was me — beautiful, barely hair there, me. Even though I was still weak from treatment, we decided we could do it if I took it slow. We ended up completing all ten miles! What really shocked us was that we weren’t even the last ones to finish! Since then, we have participated in the walk every year either by walking or by paddling in the dragon boat with "Making Waves."
Katie Zahasky, my oncology nurse practitioner, told me about Making Waves, saying that it was good exercise. I was scared to death to try it because I didn’t know anyone in the group, but I am so thankful that she encouraged me to give it a try. It’s not a group of ladies who dwell on cancer; they dwell on having fun and enjoying life to the fullest. They make you feel like we are all a family - with a "sister bond!" This group of ladies got me out of my safe shell and encouraged me to join in. They made it easy to be a part of the group and enjoy the exercise and the camaraderie. We paddle on Wednesday evenings in the spring through the fall, and try to go to two to three dragon boat races a year. Even though I’ve never considered myself to be an athlete, these races are a blast! It is so amazing meeting people from all over. And we are all there for the same reason - paddling for a cure, cause or memory.
I was also contacted about becoming a "Pink Mentor" and felt honored to be asked. I am so thankful for this group as they have provided me a way to help others who are going through the same experience that I had. It is nice to have husbands and families to support you in your cancer experience, but to talk to someone that has experienced your fears/anger helps so much. To be able to help someone newly going through cancer treatment makes me feel like I am giving back for all the support I received.
Finally, I want to give a special thanks to my loving husband, three daughters, two son-in-laws, and grandchildren. If it wasn’t for them I couldn’t have done it!
Money raised from the Rochester event will go to Join the Journey, a local nonprofit community organization that supports a range of programs from chemo care to education and healing programs. The group hopes to raise $2,000 for the organization.
Tough Enough to Wear Pink was created by entrepreneur and breast cancer survivor, Terry Wheatley, to bring the sport of professional rodeo and the western community together to rally against breast cancer. It strives to empower local organizations in the fight against breast cancer.
