A year ago today, I wasn't worried about the lump my gynaecologist had found on my breast. It felt like one I'd had five years before on the other breast -- a fullness that went away after it had been determined to be benign.
A year ago today I didn't know that the lump was invasive ductal breast cancer.
I didn't know that my weird blood test results were a reflection of the tumours that riddled my liver.
I didn't know that my aching back wasn't "out" but broken in several places.
I didn't know that most women who get breast cancer don't actually have it in their families.
And I didn't know that men get breast cancer.
I didn't know that in about 10% of the cases, breast cancer has already spread to distant organs before it's found.
Nor did I know that metastasised breast cancer cannot be cured.
A year ago, all I know was that October = pink = breast cancer. I thought that breast cancer was an easy cancer.
Well, it wasn't easy telling my little girl I have Stage IV breast cancer. No, this year hasn't been easy at all.
In the last year, I have had 14 rounds of chemotherapy, 10 radiation sessions, 4 CT scans, 3 MRIs, 2 echocardiograms and a MUGA scan. I couldn't count the blood tests, appointments with doctors, nurses, and social workers. Also, my freezer has been filled twice and I`ve been given at least a half dozen hats and two wigs.
Yesterday I power-walked 5km and raised $1295.00 for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. It will use that money (most of which was generously given by you, my readers) for awareness, support and research.
Because a year later, there is still no cure for breast cancer. And I need a cure.
The Bean tells me that anything is possible. Smart girl.