By Virginia Gates
“It will be the best-worst thing that will ever happen to you.” Those were the words spoken by Amy Fitzsimmons-Kinard and Mandy Bowden of the “The Ta-Tini’s”. The Ta-Tini’s are a local group of young breast cancer survivors who I called when I was diagnosed. It sounded exactly like a famous phrase from the opening paragraph of Charles Dickens’ novel, A Tale of Two Cities. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity…”
While we aren’t discussing the French Revolution as in Dickens’ novel, hearing the words, “You have cancer” is the beginning of a revolution that instills radical changes in anyone who goes through this type of medical diagnosis. It was Mother’s Day; I was hosting my family for lunch. After getting everything prepared, I quickly hopped in the shower to get ready and did my routine monthly self-exam. I felt a pang of dread as I felt an unfamiliar lump. I knew in that moment. I felt it in my soul. It’s just like other moments in your life when you can’t exactly explain something, but you just know. I promptly made an appointment for a mammogram the next day. (I was under 40 and had not had an official, initial mammogram yet by today’s medical insurance standards.) After the suspicious area showed up on the mammogram, a biopsy confirmed what I knew. I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, the most common type of breast cancer.
It felt like a bomb had just exploded in my life, and I was looking at the aftermath and figuring out how I was going to navigate through this. At the same time the world was going through the COVID-19 pandemic, I was learning how to teach my kids since schools were closed, I was running an “essential” business with my spouse, and they had just called in hospice for my grandmother. My plate was full, but I was determined that all of this was just a temporary thing, and I asked God to show me what I was to learn and to also help other people through this life lesson.
Next was meeting with the oncologist to go over the type and stage of breast cancer that I had, and what the best treatment options were based on my diagnosis. I’ll be honest, the first center I went to was cold; I felt like I was just a number in a herd of people who were going through such a life-changing event. I worked in healthcare myself for many years, and I was so disappointed in this approach to care, as I felt like no one cared at all. After more tests were performed, it felt like no one really took the time to look closely at my case. When they informed me of my treatment plan, I knew that this center would not be where I would receive treatment. It was also that gut feeling that something was just not quite right. I wanted to get another opinion.
I called a friend, who was a previous patient of mine and a nurse practitioner at another local oncologist’s office. She ran an additional test which determined my risk of recurrence on the type of breast cancer I had, and ultimately, changed my entire treatment plan–one test y’all. This facility was also completely different. The environment was a lot more welcoming, and people did take the time to listen and walk you through all of the many things that are involved with a cancer diagnosis.
In the same week, I lost my grandmother. She was the matriarch of my family and the woman I was named after. She was a big part of my life, and I was naturally devastated. The last thing I wanted to tell her as I was saying goodbye was that I was being diagnosed. However, I knew she would have wanted to know. I gave her eulogy at the funeral–it was the greatest honor, to speak about the life of someone I held so close to my heart. As I clutched my Kleenex and a tube of lipstick that she always wore, the words describing her life flowed off of the paper like the song of a bird. As I stood at the podium and my heels sunk into the grass beside where her gravestone would be, I knew she was with me. I smiled as I could hear her say, “Make sure you put some lipstick on.”
Two days after her funeral, it was time for everything to get started. My treatment plan consisted of having a bilateral mastectomy followed by radiation and complete reconstructive surgery. In the world of breast cancer, I certainly drew the “prettiest straw”; this course of treatment seemed minor compared to what I knew a lot of women had had to tolerate. The additional test, called an onco-type test, was one in which my score was low which indicated chemotherapy was not a benefit for my type of breast cancer. This meant that I would get to keep my hair! I know it seems silly, but I was worried more about losing my hair rather than my breasts while going through all of this. It helped me handle things a lot better, including explaining things to my children. If I didn’t “look” like I was going through anything to them, it would help ease their minds. Their world was shaken enough by not being able to attend school or sports events and trying to understand what a pandemic really was.
However, while things looked “normal” from a physical standpoint, it is what cancer does to your psyche that really changes things. Just like anyone who goes through any life-changing event, the mental scars are always deeper than any physical scar could ever be. I ended up going to therapy to discuss these things, as there is so much PTSD involved with a diagnosis. While I believed that I was strong mentally, physically, and spiritually, I still felt lost in an unchartered sea that I never knew a lot about until I dove in headfirst all by myself. In addition, there is nothing that can prepare you for what you will encounter waking up from surgery and looking in the mirror for the first time. Missing a part of you that once was and knowing that you will never be the same person on every level. You cry, you scream, and you are so mad that cancer decided to come in, snatch up your life, and take you on a rollercoaster ride that you never wanted to go on. But still all the while, you have to remain strong. People are rooting for you.
After healing from surgery, radiation was the next step. During this time, our family decided to start hiking the Appalachian Trail on the weekends, which was one activity you could still do during COVID. It was the best thing to have something great for our family to be able to focus on. During each hike, just as going through cancer, you just have to remember to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Mile after mile, I remember being so thankful that I felt good enough to be able to do this, and what God was trying to teach me while I took in the beauty all around me.
Radiation was daily for 6 weeks, and really, one of the easiest parts of the process. Most of the time it would take me longer to find a parking spot at the hospital than the amount of time that the treatment itself took. Each morning I would lie on the table as the high-energy x-ray radiation beam would go across my body. Since my left breast was the one affected (and right by your heart), you had to hold your breath as the beam came across. Holding your breath separated the chest wall from the heart so that the radiation received by your heart was minimized. Thank goodness they played music in the room. It would help pass the time as the treatment was being performed. I’ll never forget the first and last songs I heard while being there. Appropriately, the first song was “Beat It” by Michael Jackson, and the last song was “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes” by Jimmy Buffett.
And then, to go through reconstruction…is to trust a team of surgeons to rebuild everything back to the best of what is possible. I was so fortunate; I had the best general and plastic surgeons for my case and couldn’t be happier with the final result. My final surgery was three weeks before Thanksgiving, and I remember telling the plastic surgeon, “Listen, I host my family for Thanksgiving every year, so I have to be ready to get my house together before then.” He laughed of course, but the endless things that southern women take care of and prepare for during the holidays can’t be messed with, cancer or not. I was determined to be ready to go into the holidays with all of this behind me.
It was such a fitting time of year to wrap up my treatment, right at Thanksgiving. Going through cancer has taught me so many things about life. It shows you the people who care about you, but also the ones that really don’t. I could not have gotten through this without the love and support of my friends, family, and my spouse. I’m blessed to have so many people who were there to lift me up in so many ways. It teaches you to go with your gut–EVERY SINGLE TIME. There’s science behind it, but that’s enough for another article altogether. It teaches you that early detection truly is the key. Most women I know never do their self-exams. I get it, it’s another thing to have to remember and do, but if taking a few minutes each month could potentially save your life, it is certainly worth the time spent.
Cancer also teaches you to quit obsessing over, worrying about, or making a big deal of the things that really aren’t important. One of my favorite things to say now is, “If it’s not life or death, everything else can be figured out, and will be ok.” It teaches you how strong the will to live truly is. I would not be defeated. Despite a diagnosis and a pandemic going on, I still had a business to run with my spouse and a family to raise. This was absolutely not going to crush my spirit, nor did I have the time for it. Plus, I’m just way too stubborn.
I thought about what my grandmother would always say, “This too shall pass”, as I felt her with me in spirit throughout this entire journey. It teaches you to look at life through a completely different lens. You are understanding and empathetic in a way that you weren’t before. You appreciate EVERY SINGLE DAY and do things that will squeeze the most out of it. You take time for the simple things. You make time for the important things. And while you would never wish anyone to have to go through it personally, you hope that hearing stories like this will inspire others to live life just a little bit differently.
The Ta-Tini’s and Charles Dickens did have it right all along. In the final paragraph of The Tale of Two Cities, the main character says, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” This means that even while facing death you have been deeply moved with great purpose. And yes, looking back now, it has truly been “the best-worst thing” that has shaped my life in so many ways.
