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Colorado Springs Affiliate |
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Race Day
2004! Meet our 2004 honorary survivors!!
I am a two time breast cancer survivor! I was first diagnosed in August 1989 with ductal carcinoma and again in 2000 with ductal carcinoma. At first onset I was 34 years old and had just started my career one year prior as a second grade school teacher. My husband Charles had just been sent to Korea with the Army. Our children Charlene, age 15 and Yusuf, age 17 were in Jr. High and High school. I was frightened at first, but with the support of my husband, church, family, co-workers, and friends, all went well. My husband returned from Korea for the surgery in August 1989 and stayed for a month. No, I didn't want him reassigned because I had planned to go over to Korea the following summer and visit, then we would return together. I had already made plans to go over and do some shopping. We had heard how reasonable it was to have clothes made and their leather products, too. Yes, I did do just that in 1990. I had a modified radical mastectomy with the removal of several lymph nodes, one positive. I then had 6 cycles of chemotherapy (CMF), but no radiation. I only missed one day of work after my initial surgery and two days each cycle during chemotherapy. I kept the family going while my husband was away in Korea with the help of friends and my church family. The second time, in 2000, was a piece of cake. I had been down this road before and I was ready for it! I always felt that it could reoccur as long as I had breast tissue. I opted to go the same route. This time I was to have 4 cycles of AC. It nearly killed me with the first dose. I lost 7 pounds, but by the grace of God I'm still here. However, after that first cycle I chose not to take any more chemo unless they changed it due to the awful side effect I experienced. This didn’t set too well with my daughter or my Oncologist. We did come to an agreement on my treatment and I was given CMF for my last 3 cycles. No more problems. Again, I didn't stop working, although they thought I should at one time because my white count was so low. My supervisor, coworkers, and students that year were God sent. They were there for me all the way. Thank you Mr. Cook, coworkers, and students of 2000. My experience with breast cancer is huge. I really can't tell it all in this brief space. My outlook on life hasn't changed much. I've always taken each day as it came. We are not promised that we will be here tomorrow; therefore it is important to me, that I live each day as if it were my last, and live it pleasing unto God and not man. I also take time out for myself from time to time. I no longer say "I'm going to wait until I retire" to do such and such. Life is meant to be enjoyed and lived. That I do! I will turn 49 years old on Oct 15th and my husband and I will be celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary on November 12th. This is my first year being affiliated with Komen Colorado Springs. No one gave me any information or invited me to be a part until 2002, at which time I was not available. I was invited to join the ANGEL Network by one of my former student's mother and since then, I have been invited to the Survivor’s Brunch and from there, the Race for the Cure. My comment at the Race was, "I wish I had known how wonderful this was, I would have been doing this for the last 9 years!" I really enjoyed myself and have been talking about it every since. I am already recruiting people for next year! My husband joined me this year and he will again next year, and the next…. until a cure can be found for Breast Cancer. God bless each and everyone and Keep the Faith that a cure will be found for Breast Cancer.
It had been a great Summer spent with family & friends. Fall was just around the corner and I’d been getting my kids ready for school. My 14 year old daughter would head to 8th grade at Heaton Middle School and my 12 year old son, a 6th grader at a charter school. My jobs as Occupational Therapist at Canon City School District was getting hectic trying to organize schedules, review charts, write reports, and attend meetings. I had already spent most of my work day collaborating with my assistant when the phone call came. It was the urgency in my husband’s voice that alarmed me most. He insisted I come home immediately; we needed to talk. What could be wrong? Just a couple weeks ago, I’d gotten a self-addressed postcard from the mammogram center stating my recent mammogram was "normal" and I should reschedule my next routine exam in one year. Still, I had pursued answers to look closer at an unusual lump under my arm. The ultrasound results came back "normal" too, which seemed to ease my mind some for the time being. The final diagnosis was determined from a biopsy: Infiltrating Intraductal Breast Cancer. I had just turned 46 years old and was catapulted into a journey not of my choosing. The next morning after receiving the devastating news, I was wheeled into surgery for a modified radical mastectomy. "Do you want reconstructive surgery now"? Was the question asked by my surgeon that morning. Still reeling from the diagnosis, I was too numb to answer coherently…what…when…why…were my thoughts. Weeks turned into months of treatment, including eight treatments of chemotherapy, a stem cell transplant, and then radiation treatments. It was grueling. In the end, as part of my healing, I choose to undertake reconstructive breast surgery. I am so very thankful for wise & skilled physicians, caring nurses, and God’s incredible timing. Throughout it all, I was blessed to be surrounded by family, friends, and support through Pueblo Survivors & Friends. It was the "After Breast Cancer" otherwise known as the "ABC" group of women who guided me through the process of healing and gave me hope. I was and am profoundly grateful to them as well as family and friends for providing meals, sending flowers and basketfuls of cards, providing rides to appointments, and sometimes just holding my hand or crying with me. I have slowly re-assembled my life to reflect those values which became incredibly clear to me throughout my journey with breast cancer. My faith which I’ve always held, held me through it all. Faith, family & friends are everything to me. Four years later as I write this, I know I am lucky. I have reclaimed my life and am back to work again this fall, enjoying and appreciated life’s small gifts which surround me. My first Komen Race for the Cure was in the fall of 2000 at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. It was one of the most empowering experiences ever! I joined my friends from Pueblo Survivors & friends and shared the hope offered to find a cure for this dreaded disease. Our Pueblo team is busy year round raising awareness and funds for the next Race for the Cure. My small part has been making "Hearts for Hope" pins with a pink ribbon to sell for Komen foundation fund-raising. I am extremely honored to be selected as the representative for Pueblo Survivor & Friends for the Komen Race for the Cure this next year.
Jim and I jokingly referred to the 90’s as, "the decade from hell". We’d both had our own personal losses and trials. He’d been retired from the military following a long battle with a rare tumor, leaving him partially disabled. In the midst of that, my Mom had lost her battle with breast cancer. A lot of other small but unsettling things happened in the 90’s. We’d hoped that perhaps we’d closed out that chapter of our lives as we moved into the new millennium. I’d just turned forty-four in January, 2002. One evening in April, while reading in bed, I noticed that my left breast was warm and seemed to be somewhat swollen. I got a mammogram, then a needle biopsy. I was stunned by it all. The flag went up when four members of hospital staff met with us to share the biopsy results. The diagnosis was about as bad as it could be – inflammatory breast cancer. IBC is very aggressive. We were told the doubling rate of my cancer was 28 days instead of the typical 128 days. The treatment protocol would be equally aggressive, high-dose chemotherapy, followed by surgery (we decided on a bilateral mastectomy) and radiation therapy. Jim did a lot of research. We were well prepared with a list questions when we met with specialists. We settled on a treatment plan of 6 heavy rounds of Adriamycin and Taxotere on a twenty-one day treatment cycle. I had a mediport implanted and soon after received the first treatment. As predicted, on day thirteen, my hair came out in handfuls – it was probably the most terrifying thing I’d ever experienced. It took a while but Jim finally convinced me to let him shave my head. My first lab work showed my white cell count had dropped from ten to one. After each chemo treatment I had to get a white cell colony booster shot. Amazingly, except for fatigue for the first weekend following the treatment, I felt great. As a distraction, we were on standby to evacuate from the Hayman wildfire for what seemed like weeks. We started going for a long walk every evening. My mastectomy surgery was scheduled for September 25th and was to include removal of my mediport. Jim met me in the recovery room, said that he’d spoken with the surgeon and that the surgery went well. He had already called friends and family to let them know that I was okay. He said they would need to do a (minor) procedure the next day to remove the tip of the mediport catheter that had been damaged. It wasn’t until after the procedure on the 26th (our 21st wedding anniversary) that I understood that the 2 ˝" broken part of the mediport had flowed through my heart and into my pulmonary artery, and had to be snared and pulled back through my heart to remove it. The port had always been troublesome. The idea that it had broken and just tumbled through my heart made me rethink and reassess everything that had happened. Next came thirty-three radiation therapy
treatments and oral chemo. The most draining part was the daily 100-mile
drive each way to Aurora. Friends pitched in and took turns driving me.
Christmas was nice, if subdued. We cancelled our annual Christmas open
house and just enjoyed the time together. In May, my doctors told me
that they were seeing too much of me. They said I’d done everything that
was medically reasonable and rational to do. It was time to go forth and
live my life again. We vacationed around Boston over the summer. We changed our plans so we could be back in time for the Race for the Cure. It was something that I wanted to be part of, a chance for fellowship with others who had gone down some of the same roads as I had on the path to recovery. I am honored to be selected as the Teller County honorary breast cancer survivor for the 2004 Komen Race for the Cure.
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