No Regrets

Imagine for just one moment that you were an inmate on death row. The day had finally come for you to be put to death. You lie down on the bed. They place the IV in your arm and you know it will only be minutes until you pass away. Imagine the fear you would feel.

That is exactly how I felt while I was receiving my last chemo treatment. I wish I could convey to you how real it was to me that I was going to die. So real that as I laid there sobbing I was texting Bob to please tell our children how much I loved them, and that they were the last thing I thought about before I died.  Now obviously, I didn't die, but the feelings were real. 

Let's say for argument sake that I'm wrong about everything. I'm completely nuts. None of this works.  I still won't, under any circumstances, ever get chemotherapy again. I don't want to spend whatever time I have left on this earth sick, in bed, worrying about fevers, dealing with side effects, and not being able to be a mother to my children. I don't believe that the answer to healing c***** is pumping poison into my body in hopes of killing the bad cells quicker than it kills me. This includes radiation.

So with those two, chemo and radiation, off the table, the only other conventional option left is surgery. I haven't completely ruled it out, but every time I even start to entertain the thought everything inside of me starts screaming. Maybe it's me being selfish or vain. Or could it be something more than that? Could it be that our bodies instinctually know what is best for us.  Who knows, maybe at some point in the future I will consider surgery, but as for right now it's not an option either. 

I'm not saying that chemo doesn't work. Obviously it does work in some cases. I know people who it has been successful for. But in my particular case things didn't look too promising. If I were to go the chemo route first, my immune system would be destroyed, because that is what it does to you, and then natural therapy has less of a chance of working.

Most often, these are the stories you hear. After all the conventional treatments have failed, and the c***** has spread to multiple organs, and there is nothing more doctors can do, a person will turn to holistic treatments as a last ditch effort, but by then it's too late.

Let's talk statistics for a second. Originally, when I first found out that I had c*****, I thought I had an 85% chance of surviving the next five years. That doesn't sound too bad, right? That's what the odds are for someone diagnosed with stage 2 breast c*****. I soon found out that when it is specifically Triple Negative breast c*****, the kind I have, the odds drop to 77% chance of surviving the next five years. This is because it is usually more aggressive and harder to treat than other kinds. In time, upon further researching, I realized that the specific type of Triple Negative I have only accounts for about 6% of all Triple Negative diagnoses. (Read that again, it was pretty important) I also learned that this specific kind of Triple Negative breast c**** that I was diagnosed with is the most aggressive form of breast c***** and usually has an infiltration rate of 45%. And the survival rate drops. I laughed when I read that, not that it was at all funny. I laughed because if mine only had an infiltration rate of 45%, I would consider myself lucky. Yep, 90% right here. 90% of those deadly cells are capable of reproducing. That means mine has the capability of growing twice as fast as what the most aggressive breast c***** usually tops off at. It has the capability of nearly doubling when it grows. It. is. a. beast. And the survival rate drops. I can't help but ask myself, if anything between 10-20% growth rate is considered unfavorable, then what is a growth rate of 90% considered?

All those statistics are for women who choose to go the typical route, chemotherapy, radiation, surgery. But whoever said I was typical? After two rounds of chemo, and much prayer, I knew that conventional wasn't the way for me. It's been over a year now since I have had chemo and I have been able to successfully contain this potentially rapidly growing c***** to just the original tumor through prayer, diet, exercise, vitamin C IV's and injections, and loads of natural vitamins and herbs. But, containing isn't good enough. The idea is to destroy it completely. Which is exactly what I plan to do.

I fully believe that I will overcome this diagnosis and go on to watch my children grow up and have children of their own. But, if in the end I'm wrong, I have zero regrets. I am spending each day being able to be a mother to my children, not sick and in bed. I have been able to attend every baseball and soccer game this past year and coach their Junior Bible Quiz team all the way to Nationals. I have been able to live a life making lasting memories with my children. Something I would not have been able to do had I continued with traditional treatments. I am completely at peace with my choice, regardless of the outcome, which by the way, looks favorable. ;)

Am I Okay?

"How are you?" Have you ever thought about this little phrase? We go around saying it all the time, but we don't really mean it. It's really nothing more than a polite gesture with an equally polite "good and you?" retort. I get asked this question repeatedly throughout my work day as I'm sure most people do and my answer is always the same - a polite "Good". But the truth of the matter is I'm not good. I'm not even just okay. I'm a mess. Sure, I do a pretty good job of holding it all together while I'm at work, at least on most days, but at home, around the people I'm most comfortable, the people I love the most, they see a much darker side. A side that I'm ashamed to admit I have become.

 

When I was pregnant with each of my children, except the last, I had incredibly horrible morning sickness through the fifth month. The only way of describing how I felt was a cross between the worst hangover ever and as if I had been hit by a truck. I consider myself to be a strong person, capable of dealing with a lot, but after months of being so sick, I would just cry daily. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I believe we're capable of dealing with anything, any amount of pain, but it's the duration of the situation or the pain that wears on us.

 

That's pretty much where I am. I'm tired of doing this. I tired of taking 100-150 supplements a day. I'm tired of not being able to eat the foods I once enjoyed, not even in moderation. I'm tired of having to drink carrot juice. I'm tired of having to pack everything I will need for the day, including filtered water, to go to work. I'm tired of carrying it all around. It's been almost 16 months now since I was diagnosed and I'm tired.

 

I have plenty of days when I think what really is the purpose of this. Why prolong the inevitable? I'm a huge financial burden on my family, every month going further and further in debt. I feel guilty for how I treat the people I supposedly love the most. I have days when I act like such a monster I'm quite certain I am causing more damage to my children being alive than I would being dead.  So if I'm going to succumb to this anyway why not speed up the process. I feel discouraged and hopeless.

 

I'm sure you're wondering what has changed that has led me to feel this way. So I'll back up to my last ultrasound.

 

In the days following my ultrasound at Hillman, I was mostly confused, confused about the results. As the days turned into weeks and the confusion turned into anger those words that they spoke to me that day continued to play in my head. And my own thoughts echoed more of the same - this was so stupid, why did you think you could do this, what were you thinking. Doubt mixed with fear completely took over.

 

At that point I was teetering on the edge and then the mass grew. Unlike how it shrunk, it grew practically overnight. It went from so small I could barely feel it to unbelievably big. So small I could feel the titanium marker to oh crap this can't be good. All the months of hard work GONE!! It was and is bigger than it ever has been and for no obvious reason. I started questioning everything. Was it this? Was it that? And over the edge I went.

 

I prayed, had people pray with me, for me, over me. I wasn't praying necessarily for healing, though that would have been an acceptable answer to my prayers. I was praying for God to take away my feelings of absolute despair. All I wanted was to feel better.

 

Then one morning I awoke from my sleep abruptly. I don't think it was a dream, but more of just an intense feeling that I needed to read my Bible. I randomly opened to Romans and began reading. My feelings of despair lifted. I had a good day. As long as I read good days followed. I'm not talking wonderful, joyful days, but days that I didn't want to jump in a hole and cover myself with dirt.

 

It seemed to be one message repeated to me in different ways for the following week. The message was I needed to have faith, faith like Abraham. Either I believe in God and believe His word is truth or I don't. I know His hand has been over me this entire journey. I know I am doing what I am supposed to do. I know this is His plan. So as far as options, I have none. That may seem completely foolish to most people, but I know without a shadow of any doubt this is the only option for me.

 

So I guess the real question is not how am I, but am I okay. And the answer to that is no, I'm not. I'm better than I was. But I'm worn down. I don't look sick, I have my hair back so everyone pretty much expects things to be back to normal and they're not. I carry this heavy emotional weight around and it's taking its toll.

I would say today has been the best day I have had in awhile. I feel like fighting again. I feel as though the battle is mine to win. Surviving is my only option. 

I know there have been a lot of unreturned phone calls, texts, and messages. I hope no one is taking it personally. I'm not mad at anyone. You haven't offended me. I just don't feel like talking on the phone. I don't feel like going out. I don't feel like being around people. Mostly I just need time to be by myself and time to concentrate on doing what I need to do.

So continue to pray for me, I can certainly use it.