12 years ago, a day before her 37th birthday, my mom was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) breast cancer. DCIS is cancer in the milk ducts and is the earliest stage of breast cancer.
My mom had calcifications in the top two quadrants of her right breast, which was the entire top half, and the breast surgeon believed that my mom’s cancer had been growing for four to eight years before it was detected. She decided to get a mastectomy because the surgeon would have had to remove half of her breast if she decided to get a lumpectomy. A mastectomy also meant that my mom had a reduced chance of recurrence.
When she had the mastectomy, my mom also had a sentinel node biopsy. The surgeon injected dye into her breast to locate the sentinel nodes. They removed three nodes and sent them to pathology to get tested. The nodes were cancer free, so the surgeon determined that the cancer had not spread. It was confined to the milk ducts. The oncologist did not recommend radiation or chemotherapy since my mom opted for the mastectomy. He believed the cancer was completely removed and was non-invasive based on the pathology report.
Two weeks after her mastectomy, my mom had reconstructive surgery. She had three choices for her reconstruction. She could either get an implant, an expander, or use her own body. She decided to use her body, so the doctor performed a procedure called a tram flap. He removed skin and tissue from her abdominal area to create a new right breast. A couple of months later, the doctor reconstructed her nipple, once again from skin he grafted from her abdominal area. After it healed, the doctor tattooed her reconstructed areola to match her other breast.
I was only seven years old when my mom was diagnosed and treated and I didn’t really understand what was happening since I was so young. It was the most terrifying experience I’ve ever had to go through.
I was in constant fear. I was scared of my mom dying. I was scared of losing the most important person in my life.
I was scared of all of the experiences that I would miss out on without my mom. Â I was scared of what would happen to my dad without my mom. I was scared that I would have to raise my almost two-year-old sister and four-year-old brother. I was scared that our lives would never be the same again.
I remember seeing her in the hospital after her surgeries. She didn’t look like herself. She looked weak and defeated; something that I had never seen in my mom before. That scared me too.
Seeing my mom like this made me realize how lucky I was to have her. After the surgery, we didn’t know what would happen. Even though the doctors had removed all of the cancer, that didn’t mean that it couldn’t come back.
Many years later, my mom decided to get tested for the breast cancer gene. She avoided getting tested before because she was scared of what it would mean for my sister and me if she had it. We would have a much higher chance of getting breast and ovarian cancer.
Even though my mom doesn’t have the gene, my sister and I still have an increased risk of getting breast cancer since we have a first degree relative (mother, sister or daughter) who had it. Although it is rare, men can also contract breast cancer. This means that my brother is also at a higher risk for getting it.
Since having breast cancer, my mom gets yearly mammograms and exams and encourages everyone to do the same. My mom plans to make sure that my sister and I begin having exams and mammograms at a young age since she had it when she was young.
I never thought that my family would have to go through such a scary experience but we did. It made us stronger and more grateful for every day that we have together.
This January, my mom is turning 50 and celebrating 13 years of being cancer free. These milestones are ones that I didn’t always think would come along but I thank God every day for keeping my mom healthy and allowing me to experience life with my best friend.
To donate to breast cancer research, please visit http://ww5.komen.org
Fight until pink is only a color!