Month 1 in Review
The last month has been a whirlwind, filled to the brim with blood draws, imaging, fertility injections, ultrasounds, doctor appointments, phone calls (so many phone calls!), and endless hours on the road driving to and from doctor appointments and pharmacies. My body feels like a lab experiment, poked and prodded in all types of ways by many, many healthcare professionals. I spend my “down time” devouring peer-reviewed journal articles on the latest triple negative, BRCA1 cancer treatments and oncofertility preservation science. Never have I been more grateful for Nate’s longtime commitment as a student for two reasons: his PhD status has unlocked a trove of journal articles through Cal that has fueled my newfound obsession, and his professors have afforded him time off to help me navigate our new reality.
Many people have asked me how I’m doing during this period of transition. The best way to describe getting diagnosed with breast cancer at age 30 is, in the words of another breast cancer survivor, a total mindfuck. The first week I was devastated, stricken by fear and grief, for my body, my family, my job, and my way of life. I found myself occasionally overcome by uncontrollable laughter and inappropriate jokes, mixed with spontaneous sobs and paralyzing anxiety. The second week though felt like a textbook biology lesson on ‘fight or flight’ mode. I’ll be damned if the Irish in me (i.e., the reason for this whole mess) isn’t going to fight like hell to survive. So in that second week something inside of me steadied and I became ready to listen, read, learn, and make quick and thoughtful decisions that will alter my body and the course of my life forever.
I focused all of my energy in the second and third week after my diagnosis in understanding my treatment options, preserving my fertility by way of embryo cryopreservation with Nate, and talking to as many specialists and breast cancer survivors as possible. By week four, Nate and I finished fertility preservation (a great success! I’ll thank my Italian and Irish genes for that) and I started my first chemotherapy treatment. I’m grateful for the pace at which I was able to get through these first two milestones, as the research shows women who get into treatment within 4 weeks of diagnosis have the best outcomes. Because I was able to take immediate leave from work, and with the help of my sister Mary, I was able to seek opinions at Kaiser Oakland, Kaiser San Francisco, UCSF, and Dana Farber. This was critical because it allowed me to choose a team I have total faith in and a treatment plan supported by the latest research.
While I’m physically navigating this alone (and even more-so during COVID), I feel fortunate to have an amazing support network. Nate has been my rock, stabilizing me as I literally fell apart that first week, and our dog Bernie is always close by my side. My siblings, parents, in-laws, extended family, and friends have shown up in all forms, and I’ve never felt more loved. I’ve been told that having a solid support system improves outcomes, and I believe it. I feel very grateful to my family that live close by, in particular my sister Mary and brother-in-law Joe, their adorable 8-month old Mazen, my mother-in-law Susan and father-in-law Tony, sister-in-law Molly and brother-in-law Luke and their two boys, Mary Gardiner, and Aunt Karla and Uncle Ace (by way of Nate). Not to mention all of the close friends that surround our little Richmond Annex bubble, both near and far. I’m also incredibly lucky to have two amazing mentors who have been down the triple-negative road in their 30s, with over a decade of survival under their belts. I am so grateful to them and the wisdom they have and continue to impart on me. They give me hope that a full recovery, happy life, and family after chemo is totally possible.
Today marked my second chemotherapy treatment. Aside from the intense pain that came along with accessing a freshly placed port (there were a lot of expletives thrown around at 9am followed by nurses popping their heads through the curtains to see what all the commotion was about—but in the end, it was a source of great entertainment), it went smoothly and I did not have an allergic reaction to the taxol which was a big relief. The chemo nurses at Kaiser Richmond are incredible, so I have full confidence in them which makes flying solo at chemo during Covid a breeze. For the next three months my chemo will consist of weekly taxol, with dose dense carboplatin added in every 3 weeks. After I finish the taxol + carbo plan, I will move on to two months of AC chemo which will occur every other week. The anti-nausea meds and ability to rest all day makes the side effects bearable. I’ve experienced slight neuropathy in my hands and feet but trying hard to ice during treatment to avoid more severe reactions. All in all - so far, so good. Stay tuned!
