Michele, 44 Year-Old Survivor of 16 Years

Michele,

Thanks for sharing your story. 16 years -- wow! You certainly are one of the lucky ones, but I like to say we are "blessed," not simply lucky.

Kim

My Survivor Story

by, Michele K., age 44

With the rise in numbers of young women with breast cancer, I feel that my story might be inspirational to others.

I’m one of the lucky ones. I think about it every night as I kiss my little girl goodnight and give thanks for all that I’m blessed with.

I was 28 years old and working as a Jr. High School teacher when I discovered a lump in my right breast. There was a history of breast cancer in my family so I was always very good about doing self breast exams. After a few days of poking at the lump and making it red and sore, I called my gynecologist. The nurse explained to me that breast lumps are very common in women my age and I should monitor the lump through one menstrual cycle and see if it disappeared.

The lump did not disappear so the gynecologist referred me to a surgeon. The surgeon believed that the lump was a fluid-filled cyst which could be drained in her office. She took out a syringe with an extremely long needle and inserted it into my breast to try to draw the fluid out. Nothing came out. She looked at me matter-of-factly and said, “It’s probably nothing, but we should take it out just to be safe.” I was scheduled for surgery a week later.

I will never forget the look in the surgeon’s eyes when she came to me in the recovery room after the lumpectomy. The look was a combination of disbelief and empathy. She didn’t have to say anything. I knew I had cancer. She explained to me that the lump I’d felt had actually been a benign cyst. However, as she was removing the benign cyst she found a cancerous lump behind it. She believed that it was an early stage cancer, but further tests and more surgery were still needed.

The first thing I remember asking the doctor was, “Do I need to have chemotherapy, and will I lose my hair?” To some people that may seem superficial, but it was a very real fear and concern to me.

I knew my parents were anticipating the news in the surgical waiting room. I prayed that they would be strong and take the news without too much worry. I didn’t want to upset them.

The next few months were almost surreal.

I had a second surgery to remove more breast tissue and lymph nodes. After it was decided that I would receive chemotherapy, I had a third surgery to implant a port which would allow the intravenous medications to go directly to an artery.

I had long, naturally curly, brown hair. I started losing it two weeks after the first chemotherapy treatment. I hoped that it would just thin out. I went to my beautician and asked her to cut it shoulder length to make it look fuller. The hair kept falling out. I went back to my beautician. I asked her to cut it stylishly short. The hair began to fall out in clumps. My head tingled. I hated finding hair all over the house. I went back to my beautician again and asked her to shave it off. When I saw my reflection in the mirror I looked like I had cancer. I never cried so hard and so long. I’m not sure if I was upset about losing my hair or the realization that I was fighting a life-threatening disease.

After a total of four chemotherapy treatments, I returned to my teaching job. My students were wonderfully supportive and happily welcomed me back. I began radiation treatments five days a week for five weeks. It tired me out a little bit, but it was much easier to get through than the chemo. Things were getting better.

My hair started growing back and within a few months I shed my wig and sported a very short hairstyle.

I started dating a wonderful man shortly afterward. We were married nine months after our first date. We both wanted children very much, but we weren’t sure if I would be able to conceive. I had read that chemotherapy often destroys women’s eggs. My doctors suggested that we try to get pregnant without any medical intervention and see what happens.

I had a miscarriage eight months after we started trying. It was devastating yet it gave me hope that the chemo hadn’t destroyed all my eggs. We consulted a fertility specialist. Within six months I was pregnant.

On July 31, 1997 I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. We named her Jayna which means “gracious gift from God”. I was able to nurse her for twelve months with just the use of one breast. My right breast was unable to produce milk due to the radiation treatments I had undergone for the cancer. Breastfeeding Jayna was the most incredible bonding experience I’d ever had with another human being. I felt so fortunate to be able to share that with her.

It is over 16 years since my initial diagnosis. Today my checkups are good. There is no more cancer in my body. I truly believe that I am a survivor. I’m one of the lucky ones.

Michele K.