Thursday, January 10, 2013


I read an article the other day that sort of stopped me in my tracks.

This could have been me. I realize the lady in the story had a different cancer - IBC to this day has pretty crappy odds. But this was 1990 and they didn't give chemo to pregnant women. 1990, not 1950 or 1920, not sometime before I was born, sometime in the "old days" - 1990. I was a sophomore in high school. I was 15 years old. My surgeon has told me numerous times that when he started out they didn't give chemo to pregnant women, and I don't think he's much older than I am. To read this story drives a knife through my heart, because this could have been me. If I had not received treatment while I was pregnant I would be writing my obituary right now instead of hearing my doctor tell me she's really not worried about me at all. I had a cancer that was not felt at a 10 week prenatal clinical breast exam and 12 weeks later was two tumors totalling over 4 cm, and over 4 cm of lymph node tumor. Western medicine isn't perfect, but I am damn lucky to be able to receive it. I am damn lucky that my cancer responded to the chemo in the way that it did because not all triple-negatives do. I don't want to tempt fate, as I am very well aware that I am nowhere near the end of this process, but I am counting my blessings so far.

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