In Allie's Own Words:
I was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer on July 28th 2006, it was approximately 12:30 p.m.
Just to give you a little history, I will tell you that I found a thickening in my breast in the fall of 2004. I had also noticed a yellowish discharge from my breast. I immediately went to the doctor where they tested the fluid and palpitated the thickened area. The doctor told me that it was non cancerous and a "normal" fibrous change in my breast. Over the next two years I told 3 other doctors about it. Then after in vitro fertilization and the birth of my twins, I was impressed to keep pushing the issue with my doctor until it was resolved. I went in for a mammogram and a sonogram, that both came back negative. Still the problem persisted. I told my doctor that I didn't want to stop until I knew what it was. I needed to have a solid diagnosis.
He decided to send me to a breast surgeon and after a biopsy and the surgeon reassuring me it was probably nothing more than a pappiloma on steroids, I was sent home to wait the final word. I was given the diagnosis of an invasive ductal carcinoma the next day....over the phone. I couldn't imagine how such a mistake could have been made.
The doctor said that it was most likely missed because of fact that I was lactating and my breast tissue was very dense. Looking back in retrospect, had the cancer been discovered, when I first detected it, I wouldn't have my beautiful twins. I was immediately scheduled for a radical mastectomy, 8 rounds of chemo, and 25 sessions of radiation. I remember leaving my last radiation session. I felt that I was free, free to live a normal life again. But I was also afraid. What if it came back? What if they missed something? That was crazy talk though. I was still monitored every three months and scanned every six months. There was too much to do. No time to waste being sick.
Not one day was wasted. Life picked up right where it was supposed to. I pushed the fears to the side, chalking it off as normal paranoia. I had moments of irrational fear, but I felt good physically. I had to be okay. I just had to.
Three years later....
On August 12th, 2009 at around 3:30 pm, it was confirmed that I have stage IV breast cancer, aka, METS disease. Baffled, confused and mad, don't properly describe my feelings about how this could happen. Even the doctors are baffled. Things were going so well. There is something more for me to learn I guess. I came home from vacation six weeks ago with extreme pain in my back. After a visit to my orthopedic, this can of worms opened up.
I have begun treatments again. This time indefinitely. I will have to treat this disease for the rest of my days. I plan on fighting though, with every fiber of my being. For some reason I chose to go through this. I will do it, I will endure, and I will live my life. It is the end of life as I knew it, but the beginning of something new. Things will have to adjust, and we will all adapt. I can't look at life the same way I did three days ago. Everything counts, every minute, each chapter--good and bad.
This book is still being written. I'm no where near through. I know that I still have many many more chapters to write, read and live.....
Thank you for looking, loving and caring.
Just to give you a little history, I will tell you that I found a thickening in my breast in the fall of 2004. I had also noticed a yellowish discharge from my breast. I immediately went to the doctor where they tested the fluid and palpitated the thickened area. The doctor told me that it was non cancerous and a "normal" fibrous change in my breast. Over the next two years I told 3 other doctors about it. Then after in vitro fertilization and the birth of my twins, I was impressed to keep pushing the issue with my doctor until it was resolved. I went in for a mammogram and a sonogram, that both came back negative. Still the problem persisted. I told my doctor that I didn't want to stop until I knew what it was. I needed to have a solid diagnosis.
He decided to send me to a breast surgeon and after a biopsy and the surgeon reassuring me it was probably nothing more than a pappiloma on steroids, I was sent home to wait the final word. I was given the diagnosis of an invasive ductal carcinoma the next day....over the phone. I couldn't imagine how such a mistake could have been made.
The doctor said that it was most likely missed because of fact that I was lactating and my breast tissue was very dense. Looking back in retrospect, had the cancer been discovered, when I first detected it, I wouldn't have my beautiful twins. I was immediately scheduled for a radical mastectomy, 8 rounds of chemo, and 25 sessions of radiation. I remember leaving my last radiation session. I felt that I was free, free to live a normal life again. But I was also afraid. What if it came back? What if they missed something? That was crazy talk though. I was still monitored every three months and scanned every six months. There was too much to do. No time to waste being sick.
Not one day was wasted. Life picked up right where it was supposed to. I pushed the fears to the side, chalking it off as normal paranoia. I had moments of irrational fear, but I felt good physically. I had to be okay. I just had to.
Three years later....
On August 12th, 2009 at around 3:30 pm, it was confirmed that I have stage IV breast cancer, aka, METS disease. Baffled, confused and mad, don't properly describe my feelings about how this could happen. Even the doctors are baffled. Things were going so well. There is something more for me to learn I guess. I came home from vacation six weeks ago with extreme pain in my back. After a visit to my orthopedic, this can of worms opened up.
I have begun treatments again. This time indefinitely. I will have to treat this disease for the rest of my days. I plan on fighting though, with every fiber of my being. For some reason I chose to go through this. I will do it, I will endure, and I will live my life. It is the end of life as I knew it, but the beginning of something new. Things will have to adjust, and we will all adapt. I can't look at life the same way I did three days ago. Everything counts, every minute, each chapter--good and bad.
This book is still being written. I'm no where near through. I know that I still have many many more chapters to write, read and live.....
Thank you for looking, loving and caring.