Metsiversary

Today marks the 3rd anniversary of my knowledge that my cancer had metastasized. It was a Monday, April Fools’ Day, 2013. The irony lingers.

On that day I was driving my youngest daughter to her gymnastics class. I answered the buzz of my phone, and the few words my oncologist spoke set a course for my life I hoped would never happen. I was sad and scared. At the time I had no idea I would also become disappointed. The person I depended on to guide me; the person I relied on to answer my questions or concerns did not have the courage, or perhaps the time, to give me all the facts. Instead, the task to tell me I was stage IV and terminal was pushed to someone else--a person I didn’t know.

This person continues to be my oncologist today. I can only imagine what she was thinking when she realized I didn’t know the details of my diagnosis. She had been chosen to do the dirty work. The image in my mind of her looking down at my new patient form, reading the words I had written stating why I was there to see her that day still remains. She looked up, and I learned my hope for stage III was not to be.  

I have thought a few times about contacting him—my old oncologist--to let him know how I am doing, but then I remember our relationship wasn’t what I thought it was. I felt deserted by him then and now. At the same time, though, I am glad he sent me away. If I had not been reassigned to a new doctor at a new facility far away from home, I might not have no evidence of disease like I do now. (I would like to say completely-gone-disease, but words like those are not used—well, only rarely, very seldom, most often not, okay, usually never—to describe people with stage IV breast cancer.) My former oncologist did say he wanted me to have access to the newest and best treatments. He might not have been as willing to listen to my suggestion of Cyber-Knife radiation to zap the nodule in my right lung the way my present oncologist did in October. Not that he couldn't have sent me to Chapel Hill or Greenville where Cyber-Knife treatments happen every day, but would he have? So, really, sending me away has worked well for me—and him.

The view from my front porch--wisteria blooms.

What I thought was unwanted, this move to a new oncologist and new facility, I now appreciate. It has taken awhile for me to trust and even to like the oncologist that told me the horrific news three years ago. But, like the wild wisteria that grows along the roadways that lead to my house, what seems unwanted can bring big surprises. Weeds can become beautiful if nurtured in just the right way.

The 30% Club

I have been a member of a metastatic breast cancer forum for several months now called Inspire. One day, not too long ago, a member had an idea to design and produce a t-shirt. That idea has come to life. I liked it, so I thought I would share. The design is on the right and comes on either a white or black shirt.

This t-shirt is to let people know that 30% of early-stage breast cancer patients eventually become stage IV. That means the cancer has spread to a distant site usually the bones, liver, lungs or brain. It is still breast cancer. The fact that three (3) out of ten (10) people eventually become stage IV even though it was first supposedly caught early is alarming. It shows that so much more research needs to be done.

Only 2% of research dollars are spent on metastatic breast cancer. That figure doesn't bother me as much as it does others, though I agree it does make us thirty-percenters feel like people believe we are just gonna die anyway so who cares. I believe any research done, whether on early-stagers or late-stagers, can be research that potentially will impact all patients.

But, I also understand there are differences in breast cancer where some a more likely to spread than others. This is one area where studying metastatic disease with only 2% of research dollars is disturbing. Plus, metastatic breast cancer kills. Early-stage breast cancer does not. That alone is reason to put more resources toward researching late-stage cancers.

I never encountered the 30% statistic until I became stage IV. I only heard about my possibly being cured in terms of time spent without a recurrence. I read and was told the first time I was diagnosed that if I made it 5 years without a recurrence I would most likely stay cancer free. I made it 4 1/2 years. At that time I was told that if I made it 3 years without a recurrence I would probably be fine. My time before a scan detected the distant recurrence was 2 1/2 years. The truth is no one is cured until they die very old of something else.Thirty percent means a lot of people are not making it to old age.

If you think you might like one of these t-shirts please visit the website below. Make sure they know you want the Inspire MBC (metastatic breast cancer) design.

Shirts come in Gildan and Hanes styles. Gildan is for the woman that likes a tighter fitting shirt.

Artwork is at Tiny Little Monster and they are ready to take orders. Tiny Little Monster is a small, woman-owned business. They are only opened during regular weekly business hours.

The colors are lavender, gray with a little pink and green.

Here is a link to the order forms. There is free shipping inside the US.

https://www.shoplocket.com/products/ZLP3a-mbc-white-t-shirt-or-tank

Nice job SuperSherrie and others from Inspire.

Now you are aware that 30% of early-stage breast cancers become metastatic. 

It's not as easily cured as a lot of people may think.