Mommy Has Cancer

If there was ever a sentence that I never thought I would have to say it is this one:

Mommy has cancer.  

Let me tell you babies, you took the news like champion fighters.  Tommy, I snuggled with you while you watched Star Wars when I told you.  Your sweet brown eyes were afraid for only a moment and then you asked if I was going to be ok.

I am, baby.  I am going to be just fine.  I am going to fight like a mommy and make sure that I am here to see you and your baby sister grow old, and have grand babies of your own.

My sweet Elayna, telling you was a little different.  We were playing in the living room and with lots of love and snuggles I had to explain to you that for a little while mommy is going to be sleepy, maybe a little grumpy, and have to take some yucky medicine that will make me loose my hair but that will get rid of my cancer.

To both of you I had to explain that for now we will have to slow down on all of our adventures.  I won't be able to be around large crowds until chemo is over.

I am so thankful that we waited to tell you until after you finished Vacation Bible School.  Your hearts and minds were so full of your love for Jesus and I truly believed that love lessened the intensity of the news.

So, here is what you know-

Mommy has cancer, in her boobies.  We explained to you that I had to get a super secret spy port to get my yucky medicine that is going to get rid of the cancer.  It is a super secret spy port because right now you guys love Spy Kids, and ideally no one will know the port is there except us (making it a super secret). For now the port is a little achy, but it won't be for long.  I can still hug you and snuggle with you, but for a little bit I can't pick you up.  I will start my chemotherapy tomorrow (8/20/2015), and about a week after that I will start to loose my hair. We read a super cool book called "Nowhere Hair" that helped us laugh through what it will be like when mommy looses her hair.  You both even went wig shopping with me at this amazing little store called the Pink Ribbon.

Here is what all of the grown ups reading this will want to know - 

The weekend of Elayna's last pageant (the Hanover Tomato Festival) was so rainy, I carried her around for the whole day.  If you know us, you know that this is not all together an oddity, I carry Elayna everywhere, she is my baby after all.  So I should not have been sore - but I was.

In the shower that night I was massaging my arm and gave myself a breast exam, that is when I felt it. It felt like a little lump, I was sure that I was imagining it.  I am 36, this does not happen to 36 year olds.  I waited two days and when it was still there I told David.  I could see the concern in his eyes when he said he thought it would be a good idea to call the doctor.

It took about a week to get into the OB's office.  During that time I did lots of Googling - I learned that breast cancer isn't supposed to hurt, and that most of the time when women find "lumps" they don't usually amount to anything.  I went in for my exam armed with that knowledge, confident that the doctor would tell me that it was nothing.

The visit at the OB's office lasted about 3 minutes, my Google myths took just that long to have been dis-proven. The doctor recommended that I go get a mammogram and ultra sound done at the Parades Institute.  They were able to see me the next day.

I arrived at Parades still expecting to hear that everything was ok, I brought a mushy Jodi Picoult book with me and braved the appointment by myself. After my first set of mammogram films I was sent back into the waiting room to wait for my ultrasound.  The tech came back out and said the doctor needed just a few more films.  My heart sank.  Even more so when she pulled the extra piece for the mammogram machine from the wall and said, "this might be a little cold, I don't usually use this one."

All I could think is, this cannot be good.

Shortly after that they began my ultra sound, again it took only a few minutes and the tech went to get the doctor.  When the doctor came in he was so kind, and so honest.  He held my hand and said, "I am so sorry, but I am almost positive that you have cancer."  He began to explain about the "mass" of concern, but all I could think about was my babies, and my husband- and that this could absolutely not be happening.

By that time I had called David and we had been there for about 4 hours digesting the impossible information that we had just been given.

That was a Friday, the next Monday I was scheduled for a biopsy.  For a week after the biopsy I waited, I paced, I prayed.  I checked my phone to be sure it was still working - it was, there were just no results yet.

Then the phone rang, it was lunchtime on  Monday August 3, 2015.  The voice on the other end of the phone was so sweet.  "Mrs. Wood, are you ready?  You know we talked about this, is it still ok for me to tell you over the phone?" I must have whispered yes, because she went on to say, "you have invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 2."

I was so lucky that David was there when we got the phone call, we cried together.  It was good to finally have a name for this monster inside of me.  Immediately we began researching and making plans.  I had an MRI and a CT scan to be sure the cancer hadn't spread - thank God it hasn't.  And then 14 days from the time of my diagnosis I had my port put in and I begin chemotherapy tomorrow.

During the port surgery my amazing surgeon was able to test 5 lymph nodes to see if they had any cancerous cells.  They didn't!  I am blessed beyond measure that we caught this so early, and that I have a wonderful team and support system working with me.

In case you are curious, this is what a port looks like.  The port is the device that I will receive my chemotherapy through.  

Other important things to know - my cancer is estrogen and progesterone negative, but her2 positive. This means that it should be very responsive to chemotherapy.  

I will continue to post updates to keep you all informed.  Let me leave you with these words for tonight -

• Trust your body, if something doesn't feel right go see the doctor. The word miracle has been used more than once to describe me finding this tumor.  The OB and the radiologist both said that they would not have found it during a standard clinical exam when I was laying down. 
• Don't believe everything you read on the internet, I am so glad that I didn't talk myself out of getting checked out.
• Live every single day - really live it.  
• Smile at people, give hugs, love on your babies. 
• Spread kindness and joy in all things that you do.

If you see us out and about, ask Tommy about Star Wars, ask Elayna about fairies and princesses, or her lip gloss- which I am certain she will be wearing.  I do not want them to be afraid, not for one single second.  They are being so strong right now, and they are taking our lead in how they react to new news. 

Please continue to support all of us with your smiles, prayers, and love.  All of the messages mean so much to all of us.