MY STORY
by Tara Ferguson
Before being diagnosed with breast cancer, I was very naïve about cancer, treatments, and survival rates. Since my diagnosis, I have learned that you never have to be alone in your fight against cancer.
I received the news of my breast cancer diagnosis on Friday June 15, 2012, less than 48 hours after my biopsy. The biopsy results, delivered to me by my gynecologist over the phone, caught me completely off-guard. I had just turned 40 a week earlier. I thought that I was physically fit, I drank alcohol responsibly, I wasn’t a smoker, I had breastfed both my boys and I ate a healthy diet. Wasn’t this supposed to make my odds of getting cancer very low? This had been my first mammogram ever and it wasn’t even a scheduled one. In May of 2012, while getting ready for a fundraiser for my sons’ school, I discovered the lump in my right breast with the assistance of an ill-fitting bra that I hardly ever wore. I had tried to convince myself that the lump being cancer was not only a very low probability, it was laughable. But my head and heart told me to take this very seriously, so I insisted on a mammogram.
Admittedly, I didn’t take the news well. I began to cry and, while I don’t remember much from that first conversation with the gynecologist, I do remember remarking “I’ve watched Terms of Endearment, I know how this ends.” I asked if I could call back once I regained my composure and hung up the phone. When I did call back with my husband, we were told by my gynecologist that she could provide us with very little information beyond the diagnosis. I had so many questions, who should I ask? A surgeon, she responded, and then recommended three.
Problem was that none of the surgeons were available on Friday afternoon. Calls to the surgeons’ offices were answered by answering machines with promises of a return call the following business day. Being total strangers to the world of cancer, our first thought to fill the information void was to turn to the internet and our local Barnes & Noble for answers. Many hours and several hundred dollars later, we felt we were no closer to understanding this diagnosis. We decided that, without having any answers to our own questions, how could we tell our family and friends. It looked like I was going to spend this weekend feeling alone, in a trance-like state, unable to eat, sleep or stop crying.
It was Sunday afternoon when my close friend Luan called me to discuss a 40th birthday party with the girls. This was my first chance to tell someone in the outside world of the little secret I carried and I unloaded it all on her. Luan listened quietly, and in doing so she was incredible. She handled the news as if it was something a friend told you everyday. She didn’t pity me or cry with me, she just listened. When I was finished, she discussed with me what I thought my medical options were, which helped provide some clarity to the situation. But one thing continued to bother me, I didn’t know any breast cancer survivors, and Luan couldn’t think of any either. The following day however, Luan called back with information that changed everything for me.
Luan recalled that she did know a survivor and provided me with Emma’s contact information. That first conversation with Emma may have saved my life. Emma was an 11 year breast cancer survivor – finally I knew a survivor. Emma had answers to my questions. She provided me with a lot of the information that I couldn’t find on the internet or in the bookshelves of Barnes & Noble. Then she said the words that I will always remember “Dr. Lucci is the surgeon you need to meet.”
Going to MD Anderson and meeting with Dr. Lucci and his staff instilled me with so much hope and confidence. In our first consult, I learned what the diagnosis meant and what my options were. The staff of MD Anderson were able to steer me towards books and websites that provided real answers. I have learned to stay away from online sources of information that contain a lot of false and misleading information. I was given guidance, but also felt like all decisions were mine to make. Even as my diagnosis changed from one lump to one invasive tumor, DCIS and a tumor in my sentinel node, Dr. Lucci and his staff delivered the news with care and informed me of how this affected my treatment. I had a partial mastectomy to remove the cancer and DCIS, am currently undergoing chemotherapy and am still evaluating my options following that.
One of the oncologists I met with told me to approach my treatment like training for a marathon. As I had trained for half marathons before, I could relate to this very well. I now knew that this treatment was not going to be quick and it was not going to be easy. Ahead of me, I had surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and five years of hormone therapy. To accomplish this, I had to take it one step at a time and not become overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. I could not think about the things I should have done in the past, I had to remain focused on the things I still had to do. All the time, I have to keep in mind the goal of killing this cancer (the finish line) and that keeps me motivated when I tire.
After living with this diagnosis for almost six months, one thing is clear, I could not have come this far without the love and support from my family and friends. Since my diagnosis, I have met so many breast cancer survivors and have appreciated every word of the wisdom they have shared with me. I have also been so touched by the support of our family, friends and neighbors who have supported us with gestures as simple as keeping me company of my daily walks, and bigger commitments such as dropping off meals, carpooling the boys to school or taking the boys for a few hours after school or over the weekend so I can rest. The support has been truly heartwarming and I am forever in their debt. We are trying to keep our home life as normal as possible. I know that I need to focus on my treatment, but life must, and will, go on.