My instinct is still to say, “I’m fine. I got this. I don’t need anything.” But I’m slowly letting my village support me the way I always support them.
The single-mastectomy surgery went well, and they put in a spacer to prepare for reconstruction, which will happen later. I left surgery feeling relieved and excited that cancer was behind me and I could get back to my normal life. Little did I know I had another battle to overcome.
HER2 who?!
Less than two weeks after my surgery, the pathology report came into my patient portal. I immediately threw the report into ChatGPT to help me make sense of it because my follow-up appointment wasn’t until the next day. I saw a lot of negatives, which seemed promising. But there were also some positives: The 1.2-centimeter tumor they removed was HER2-positive (HER2+), estrogen-receptor-positive (ER+), and progesterone-receptor-positive (PR+). Those weren’t anywhere on my bingo card.
HER2+ means the cancer cells produce extra amounts of the HER2 protein, which can lead to faster-growing, more aggressive breast cancer. However, the cells also respond well to treatment that targets the HER2 protein. ER+ and PR+ mean my breast cancer cells have receptors for the hormones estrogen and progesterone, so they respond well to hormone therapy.
My oncologist explained that with triple-positive breast cancer, chemotherapy and hormone therapy is recommended. Treatment would last a year, with the first few months being the most intense. I would get two different treatments each week for the first three months, followed by one treatment every three weeks for the rest of the year.
It felt like a gut punch. I knew there was a possibility they could find something else during the surgery, but I didn’t expect to learn that my cancer was more invasive than my medical team initially thought, thanks to it being HER2+. HER2 was that girl we didn’t plan for. We didn’t expect her to be here. Who is she?
Given this new development we decided to spend March freezing some embryos before I started chemo. It was overwhelming and happened so quickly (more doctors’ visits and testing), but Alton and I felt like the best option to grow our family in the future.
The weekend before my first chemo treatment, we went on a road trip to Charleston, South Carolina, and rented a convertible Mustang to take in the scenery. I didn’t think about cancer or chemo at all that weekend; I was just myself. Driving over the Cooper River Bridge that night with the music playing, I felt free and alive.
Living life and shining bright on my own terms
On March 31 I had my first round of chemo. Not even a mild allergic reaction to the first treatment could keep me from being me—goofing around, dancing on the IV pole, and bringing the joy. The next day, April Fools’ Day, I cut off my long hair. Lately, cancer and chemo have been calling the shots, but this felt like one thing I could take control of and do my way. Cutting my hair in the backyard, looking up at the trees and blue sky, hearing the birds singing, made me feel so strong.
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