Living Amongst The Unknowns
Hey Beautiful people!
It’s officially a new year and there is definitely a lot of change to embrace. As my mom always says, “make a friend with changes”. So here is to 2024 and hoping it’s better than 2023. (I mean, the bar is pretty low - so we can only go up from here!)
I’ve definitely had to embrace change ever since my diagnosis, it’s taught me that even when I thought I was in control, I’m really not. Trying to control every little thing in life is exhausting and I’ve learned to let many things go. Another great quote from my mama is, “Don’t sweat the little things in life.” Everything that is going on in this journey is trying to teach me something, and when I’m back to living my “normal” life (which I doubt will be all that normal) I want to take all of these lessons with me because I know they will help me live a more meaningful and positive life
Early on in my journey before starting treatment, I was speaking with another young breast cancer survivor on Facetime. She shared something with me that stuck with her during her journey, and therefore has stuck with me. She said that someone had told her that every day leading up to your diagnosis is like milk chocolate. Normal, easy, you’re just going through the motions. But once you’re diagnosed with something like cancer your life becomes like dark chocolate - every moment rich, meaningful, and full of purpose. And I couldn’t agree more.
Here are some changes, big and small, that I’ve encountered in the last 6 months:
Career: I made the scary decision to temporarily shut down my business that I’ve spent 3 years building. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t worked or had my own income. It’s definitely a scary change but I feel so grateful to be supported by a husband and family that know that healing is a top priority right now and I don’t need any additional stress.
Medications: I went from a life of only taking supplements to being injected with all sorts of chemo, immunotherapy drugs, and antibiotics. Because of these medications and their side effects, I now rely on prescription drugs as I take synthetic hormones for my underactive thyroid and steroids to mimic the cortisol that my adrenal glands stopped making. These medicines have to be taken timely each day and it’s a whole new routine for me: I take my thyroid medication first thing in the AM, wait 30 minutes to eat, take my first dose of steroids, then take another dose of steroids 6-8 hours later in the afternoon. This one is really tough and emotional for me to comprehend the permanent damage that was done to organs that were working perfectly fine prior to starting treatment. But if the trade-off is life, can I really complain?
Sleeping: In the winter months I usually sleep wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, under a heated blanket. I usually LOVE being toasty warm. These days I find myself wearing shorts and a t-shirt to bed and spend a lot of time on top of my blankets with intense hot flashes. Tim can’t even sleep with me because I move around, toss and turn, and shift from being too hot to too cold all night long. It’s really uncomfortable, but a small (and hopefully temporary) side effect compared to others.
Travel: For anyone who knows Tim and I, you know we love to travel. We have amazing friends who live all around the United States and love to visit them. We usually have our weekends booked out months in advance and have plans to visit friends where they live or meet them somewhere new to explore. All of these travels have come to a halt and we have canceled trips to Las Vegas, Mexico, and Vail. I am also missing out on a friend’s wedding in Florida which I’m bummed about. But when you feel uncomfortable and there are so many variables in your life, there is just something about being home (and being close to your hospital system) that makes things easier.
Family Planning: This is very personal and I don’t touch on this often, but it’s all facts - we don’t know what the future holds for us and having a family. When you’re at the young age of 30 it’s always nice knowing that the option exists, that the door is open. But after being told that chemotherapy can permanently disrupt fertility there is definitely some sadness in our hearts and a lot of unknowns up in the air. All we know is that in this day and age, there are many ways to have a family so we are leaving this up to God. What is meant to be, will be. Not that it makes any of this easier to comprehend.
But, despite what doctors tell us and other people’s experiences - we always leave the door open for miracles. Always.
All of these bumps in the rollercoaster of life have reminded me of one thing: someone else always has it worse off than you. There truly is so much to be grateful for, even if you have to search hard for it. I’ve been loving the song “Blessings” by Hollow Coves. Take a listen and see if you don’t just fall in love with the melody and learn to look for blessings all around you.
Now for a few treatment-related updates:
If you have read previous blogs you know that the decision to continue or not with immunotherapy was in question. I’ve gathered the opinions of four different Oncologists and after they have all weighed in, the consensus is that we do not continue. They are more concerned with my health and safety than the use of this drug. The drug that I only used twice but was extremely harsh on my liver, thyroid, and adrenal glands. They worry about continuing it and causing permanent damage to my liver, kidneys, or lungs. Most people with my diagnosis (triple negative breast cancer) take this immunotherapy drug for a full year, so it’s definitely hard knowing that I couldn’t tolerate the medicine and stick with the original plan, but I also trust the doctors and appreciate that my safety is of top concern. If the immunotherapy was the end of the road of options, we would be having different conversations.
But at this point, they are hopeful because:
I have already had what doctors call, “a good response” and are happy with how much the “thing” has shrunk
We are switching to a new drug regimen anyway and hope to see continued success with new medication
There is a clinical trial I am eligible for that could also help me after treatment and before surgery to achieve a “complete pathological response” if the final few healing sessions do not.
The good news is that if the immunotherapy has harsh side effects, it’s usually done a number on the cancer, too. My oncologist shared that he has had two people specifically with stage 4 cancer that he’s had to take off of immunotherapy because of the harsh side effects like mine and they have no cancer anywhere else anymore - and that’s pretty unheard of for stage 4 cancers. So we will take that as a silver lining. Bad side effects = good results? Wow, the cancer world is wild.
I have also recently had an ultrasound and mammogram to check in on any changes to the “thing” in my breast. It’s essentially unchanged after the last 6 weeks of treatment, just about .1 cm smaller. Doctors say this is normal for the shrinking to taper off. But what is different and promising is that they noted that there is no more blood flow to the area, which is a good sign. Blood flow that is shown on an ultrasound usually indicates that something is made up of “bad cells" as we like to call it, as “bad cells” need blood flow to continue growing. So the fact that there is no more blood flow could mean good things in that this tumor is officially dead and there is no more active bad cells. You can still physically feel a lump in my breast, but this may just be leftover tissue. Of course, we will not know what the tissue is made of until we get the final pathology after surgery. Ah yes, it’s so fun living amongst the unknowns and it’s definitely a learned skill to keep on keeping on even when you have no idea what the HECK is going on in your body.
When I’ve met with doctors recently they have all started off the conversation by mentioning that there is a lot of data and logged events in my chart that show that I have had a rough few months. I try to use sarcasm to make light of it but they want to ensure that I know, that I undoubtedly have had a tough journey thus far and it’s not “just a few bumps in the road.” Luckily, they also note that I look much better than my charts show. (Thanks to having hair and eyebrows currently!) I will sing it from the rooftops - having my natural hair has given me a totally different cancer journey and outlook on this whole process. I am so very grateful for cold capping and to be able to make the investment I have in my hair and eyebrows, they are my two constants in a life and body that is rapidly changing.
Nobody’s cancer journey is linear.
When life throws little things my way, I know I can tackle them. My favorite saying right now when little things go wrong is: “Ah, I’ve been through worse.” Because truly, you have to go through the trenches of tough times to appreciate the most basic things in life.
So, 2024 - what do you have in store for me?
2024, please let this be the year I become cancer FREE!
Xo, Breanna
