One Year Ago This Week

A year. This week marks one year from my 16 week appointment where I brought up a suspicious lump to my midwife. If it weren’t for the calm, but serious, encouragement of that caring midwife, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Dismissing my concerns and letting my cancer fester until after delivery is something that I can’t even wrap my mind around. On the first appointment with my oncologist, she wrote in her notes “your midwife saved your life”. She’s right. After 4 Rounds of AC chemotherapy, a double mastectomy while pregnant, Step 1 to my reconstruction surgery, 4 Rounds of Taxol chemotherapy, 25 rounds of radiation, and months of expansion—it all leads to this. This is the day I’ve been waiting for. July 17th. Tomorrow morning I’m going into surgery to have my tissue expanders removed and permanent implants replaced, along with some scar revision. I’ve always been a private person and this diagnosis and treatment have caused me to be more open about myself and my body than I ever thought I could be. If it weren’t for the support of Ryan, I don’t think I could have made it out on the other side feeling as positive and full of love for life. Also, knowing that I work for a company that values my professional efforts and also my personal well being was such a piece of mind going through this. After going into an active lifestyle so quickly after treatment, I assume the one month hiatus on exercise will be somewhat difficult, but I’m prepared to cope with the difficulties both mentally and physically. This isn’t the “all clear” that our friends and family wants—cancer will never leave my mind and there’s no guarantee it’ll stay out of my body. But I’m confident knowing I did everything in my power to take on this disease, half while pregnant. We are cautiously optimistic about this surgery, as my choice to complete radiation therapy could cause issues with the skin healing. My doctors are feeling good going into surgery, and I’m going to take their feel good energy with me as I drift into that lovely sleep. Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, donations, and meals over the past year—and especially tomorrow.




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Be your own advocate. Know your body. You're not too young to be at risk for breast cancer, or other diseases. Speak up to your doctors if you feel like something isn't right!

By Your Side

After everything I've been through emotionally over the course of my diagnosis and treatment, everything has seemed different. Songs, poems, books, movies, that I experienced pre-cancer have taken on such different meanings during my treatment. This song is no exception. This experience can be, and is, very isolating. Not only is it really strange to have breast cancer at 25, and it's not something that a lot of people can relate to, as hard as they try. On that same token, it's nice to know that we're never alone. This song reminds me of holding onto God, but at the same time fighting back and wondering how he could let this happen to me.

Radiation is my first treatment where I have to be completely by myself, whereas Ryan was with me during all chemo and Benjamin was sweetly inside me during any surgery, I'm in a cold room of big machines being spoken to through a speaker in the ceiling. I've turned to comforting music that remind me I'm never alone. Whatever it takes to help me get through these 30 treatments, right?

By Your Side: Tenth Avenue North
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHgNCj4DU_M


Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching
As if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

'Cause I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands at my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

'Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, yeah I'll love you
I'll never let you go, no, no

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you
Here at my side, my hands are holding you

Why? A Post from CaringBridge

I don't really talk about my cancer a lot on this blog, since it's more upbeat. Yesterday I posted this on our CaringBridge site and I think that it warranted being re-posted on here. My hope is that another young woman will come across this and it'll help her deal with what she is feeling about her own diagnosis and treatment.

This is hard. Cancer sucks. It is not smiles and pink ribbons and pink coffee mugs. Some days I feel really upbeat and like I can conquer the world, and others I find myself wiping my tears with one of Ben’s burp cloths. I have prayed and soul searched so much over the past 6 months. Why did this happen to me? What did I ever do that was bad enough to deserve this?

Not only myself, but I consistently worry about everyone around me. How it’s affecting my husband, how is it for him to look at other women who have hair and aren't covered by scars robbing them of their femininity. The fear he must feel about potentially losing his wife, physically and emotionally from this disease. About my parents. Parents should never have to bury their children, and I hate that this disease I’m fighting makes that a not too unrealistic thought.

Someone gave me advice early on that having a positive attitude really helps with treatment, recovery, and recurrence. I agree. It keeps you from getting down in the dumps and losing the energy to move forward. I try and put on a positive face every day, and if I had a nickel for every person that told me “how positive” I am or what a “great outlook” I have, we wouldn’t be asking for donations for medical bills. But here’s the thing, sometimes trying to be positive all the time can be bad. Like how I don’t feel like I can be negative. Being honest about my darker feelings, depression, or anger feels like I’m letting everyone down. Like everyone will realize that maybe I wasn’t really so positive. I read a quote that said something to the effect of “cancer doesn’t make you a more positive person, it just makes you a better actress”. Truer words have never been spoken. Although I do feel like forcing myself to have more positive thoughts makes me really start to believe them.

Sometimes I just really want to be angry, though. I want to go out in my back yard and scream up at the sky. I want to scream at God for dealing me these cards that have absolutely rocked me to my core. I want to kick and scream and go to that place in San Francisco where you can pay to throw plates at walls.  Dealing with your own mortality is serious business. When the cancer takes over your body and you’re nothing left but a shell of a person, the loved ones around you will never forget seeing you that way. I look down at this baby sleeping on my chest, and he needs his mother. I want to live to worry about Benjamin being out later than his curfew, and to pin his corsage for prom. I want to meet his girlfriend that will become his wife, and dance with him at his wedding. I don’t want him to grow up as a child that lost a parent. And Ryan, poor Ryan. Nobody thinks when they get married at 23 that the “sickness and in health” part will come into play for many decades to come, not two years down the road. This man has been through so much over the past six months. Although not physically enduring the surgeries and treatments, he’s been right there by my side. I have never felt alone in this whole process because of him. He fights right beside me during the day, and holds me while I cry out of fear at night. What did this loving, compassionate person do to deserve having a wife diagnosed with a life threatening disease in his twenties? It seems like everyone else our age is living with no major worries or struggles, enjoying their twenties.  I’m shaken at the thought of leaving Ryan as a widow to raise Benjamin on his own.

Breast cancer is horrible and mean and sneaky. Just when you think it’s under control and gone, it comes back with a vengeance. It’s like a nasty, slimy, monster that wants to steal mothers from their children, wives from their husbands, and daughters from their parents. It’s wrong. It shouldn’t happen to anyone, any family, any friend. We need research and we need medications to treat triple negative. My friends I’ve met on this journey are also daughters, sisters, friends, and mothers. I wish I had a million dollars and a pair of boxing gloves. I would donate all of the money to research for medication to keep this disease for coming back to me, and I would use the gloves to physically beat the crap out of this monster

Triple Negative Breast Cancer Day

Today is the first annual Triple Negative Breast Cancer Day. At 3pm local time, please take a minute to honor those women who have passed, and the women who are currently fighting this horrible disease. Do self checks and be your own advocate. Cancer doesn't discriminate by age, race, finances, or anything. Every 12 hours another woman is diagnosed with TNBC and that woman is a wife, mother, daughter, sister, or friend of someone.

Triple Negative is a much more agressive type of breast cancer. It's less understood, more likely to recur, and more difficult to treat. As of this time there are no targeted therapies or maintenance treatments to keep this from coming back-- just maintenance checks with an oncologist and prayer. PLEASE post this on your blog or facebook page. Awareness equals research and that's what we need. I need to live to see my son grow up and get married, and get wrinkly with my husband. #TNBCday

You can read about our journey with this disease on our caringbridge: www.caringbridge.org/visit/sarahaddison and our fundraising page www.gofundme.com/sarahaddison