The Year That Changed My Life

My Story.

      Let me introduce myself. My name is Amber. I am 31 years old. I'm from a small city in Michigan. I have two amazing daughters who are 8 and 10. I have been a single mom for quite a few years now. I lost both my parents by the age of 24. It's just been me and my girls ever since with the help of a couple close friends I cherish so much. At 29, my life changed forever. 

      I was standing at my bathroom sink after a fresh shower, leaning over to wrap my hair in a towel I glimpsed in the mirror and noticed a line on the side of my right breast. At first, it just looked like a new stretch mark and I was plenty use to those by then. I inspected it and knew this wasn't a stretch mark but wasn't too concerned. Not long after I noticed the lump in my breast had gotten bigger. I had a biopsy done on my left breast after I gave birth to my daughter and they said they were benign and just something a lot of girls my age have. So, I assumed this lump was just a fibroid or cyst acting up before my menstrual cycle or maybe it was from stress. A month later, no period in site, my nipple started inverting. It was then I knew deep down in my gut that something was very wrong 

     I went to one ER, the doctor spent all of three minutes with me as I tried to explain as he over talked me. "You're too young for breast cancer." I had no idea i would be told that countless times for years to come. He did blood work and told me if was probably just a cyst and they are completely normal. Unsatisfied, I tried a second hospital and then a third. They all said the same thing. I finally got in to see a gynecologist, nobody listened. No mammogram, no ultrasound, no scans. I did that for 9 months. 

   In front of that same mirror one morning I went to inspect my breast again, this time it was bright red. All I could think of is there's absolutely no way this isn't cancer. Someone has to be able to help me. I drove 30 minutes away to a hospital I hadn't tried yet. I went through another breast exam, I could actually see the concern in this doctors face for once. He rolled in an ultrasound machine and took a look. Other doctors and nurses came in to look also. They didn't have to say anything. The looks on their faces said it all.

      The doctor referred me to a breast surgeon. She gave me the referral for a mammogram. They said it would be read immediately and if the doctor needs more we will let you know. Well, he definitely needed more. He wanted me to get an ultrasound there and so I did. He then asked if I was busy. He wanted to biopsy it right then and there and so we did. 

       A few days later I get the phone call that changed my life. I have invasive ductal carcinoma. I can still feel my stomach sink. I just got the worst news of my life and I was completely alone and so confused. After a PET scan, biopsy of my lymph node and L3 vertabrae, I got the call. This call made the first call sound like a walk in the park. 

      "It's spread to your L3 vertabrae and we had some lymph nodes light up, she said. I literally couldn't breathe. "So, it's stage 4 then right?"  I asked. "Yes, it is, I'm so sorry" she said. I immediately started crying and feeling bad this poor woman had no idea what to say and just how awkward it all was. She tried her best. "We can treat it more like a chronic illness these days so don't lose hope." She told me. I asked her what was next and she told me the oncologist would be contacting me. That was that. Once again, I was alone. It just felt like I was watching someone else's life happen as I sat and watched. I ran to my friend's house. I told her. I guess I expected more, I wanted to break down and cry and be held and be listened to but I don't think she knew what to say or do. We quickly changed topics. 

       My oncologist wouldn't give me a timeline and told me not to Google statistics, but it was too late. I had already seen there was only about a 30% chance I'd make it 3 years. That wasn't an option for me though. My children need me. One who's father has never been in her life, so I'm literally all she has. If I die, she goes to foster care. She's so attached to me I couldn't ever bare to leave her, neither of them. 

     I felt like it took forever to start treatment. After a little over 6 weeks I finally started chemo. I was always the youngest in the infusion center and always alone. I always wished I had one of those big families that make a big deal out of everything and would make sure someone always went with me to treatments and surgeries and appointments but it was always me alone and a million pity stares. After six cycles I was stable so I went on to maintenance treatment and then had progression a short time later so I started a new treatment. 

     I moved from Ohio back to Michigan with one of my mom's oldest friends. Until I could find a section 8 there and move. Which is much more difficult than some people realize. She thought I'd get more help and resources in a homeless shelter. I wasn't going to traumatize my daughter anymore than she already has been. I took my SSI check and got a motel room for three days. In that three days I called and reached out to everyone I could. Every cancer non profit, every resource I could Google, I made a GoFundMe for myself. I hid my tears to not worry my kids. 

    It isn't until you are at your lowest, you see humanity where you couldn't see it before. You figure out peoples true colors and surprisingly the people who helped us the most were either complete strangers or people I hadn't even seen since high school. I got enough donations and help from non profits to stay in the motel for three months. Just long enough to find a tiny little place, in a decent city, with good schools. It wasn't perfect but we finally had a home. It was an absolute miracle we stayed off the streets or from sleeping in my car in the middle of winter. I'm forever grateful for all of those people. 

     Today is February 8th, 2023. I received my newest scan results. Progression. On to my next treatment option. I sit and think about how fast life changes. I try to search for positive stories on Facebook support sites of women who have been living with Mets for years and years and have gotten to watch their kids grow up and just hope and pray I am one of those women. You know we all die at some point but I feel like at 29, you still think you're invincible. Yeah, some people I've known have died in car accidents or overdoses or suicides but not me, I have time. I just assumed I'd be around until I was at least 60. Now, every holiday or special moment I ask myself if this is the last one. Last Christmas, last birthday, last I love you. Most of all I dread breaking my childrens hearts and leaving them. The worst part about it is the thought of my babies crying out for me and me not being there to hold them or tell them I'm ok or see them grow up. It's the only thing I want now. I will go for some sort of treatment at least every three weeks until I run out of options or my body gives out until there is a cure. 

     I hope this blog gives something to someone. I can only hope just one person can learn from my mistakes and maybe hold their babies a little tighter because of me. To never think, "I'm too young, that'll never happen to me." Know your body and give yourself breast exams. If you find something that is off, don't put it off, don't accept no for an answer, don't accept, "it's probably just a cyst or your too young" Advocate for yourself. Your health is the most important thing in life. Without it, you have nothing. Take care of yourself when you can, Don't waste the time you have. Everything can change in one phone call.