How have I been impacted by MBC?
by Laura
Today is Monday September 22nd, 2014. I met my best friend Jess at our local cancer center to support her while she went through a series of what are referred to as "routine scans" to determine if her new hormone therapy drug, which she began to take in June post-surgery to force her into menopause, is working to stop cancer growth in her system. The morning schedule for Jess went as follows:
• No breakfast or coffee as it impacts test results
• 8:30am - checked into radiology
• 9:00am - given an injection of nuclear medication in her right arm as prep to a bone scan scheduled to take place later in the day.
• 9:15am - handed what we refer to as a big gulp size of fluid to drink. It has to be 60 oz minimum to prep for a cat scan.
• 9:15am - 10:15am - Jess drinks big gulp and waits for cat scan
• 10:30am - cat scan takes place
• 10:40am - check-in at cancer center of hospital
• 11:00am - port flushed and three large vials of blood are drawn to conduct a tumor marker test
• 11:20am - Jess finally gets to eat and have a coffee. She chooses veggies and hummus over massive cookies making her even more impressive!
• 11:45am - bone scan is completed where Jess is required to lay still, with her feet tied together, for 20 minutes in a very tight machine as it scans her body searching for further cancer growth. I watch her breathing as it grows heavy from stress. I know how much she hates the bone scan machine and I hate seeing her in it!
• 12:05pm - bone scan completed
• 12:05pm to 6:00pm - we waited anxiously to hear scan results. Filled with anxiety we pass the time away over lunch with Jess’s husband. We run errands and work.
• 6:00pm – Jess’s oncologist calls advising she only had the cat scan back and was pleased overall with results she had seen. The best news you can hear is there is no spread to vital organs and that's what we hear. She explained they would chat more at her appointment on Thursday once the rest of results are in.
Why was this how I spent my day? In April 2013 my 32 year old best friend Jess, who is also my cousin's wife, was diagnosed with MBC. I sat in a room and took notes as her oncologist explained where the original breast cancer tumor is located and where it had spread to her bones and he tells us that even though it spread, it's still breast cancer. I felt confused, scared, anxious and really sad. Jess and I participate in breast cancer walks annually to raise awareness for others. We still do. And MBC was never a topic. Since the diagnosis, I have educated myself on what metastatic breast cancer is and what to expect. What I have learned is that even though my best friend looks beautiful on the outside, she is fighting a massive war inside - not only physically but emotionally. This diagnosis doesn't allow a break from cancer it's now a permanent part of everyday life; this includes anyone that loves somebody with this diagnosis.
I have attended appointments with Jess and her husband, like the one detailed above, and have watched her go through what are referred to as "routine scans"; and I’ve waited anxiously with her on multiple occasions to receive results. Imagine the anxiety of waiting for test results that reveal if your cancer is maintained in your body or not. Feeling relieved with the news there are no signs of spread to vital organs. Now imagine that being a monthly or quarterly "routine."
This MBC diagnosis is not easy and it takes strength, determination, courage and support. I am happy to say Jess has all those things. Her husband, my cousin, is the most supportive, loving and caring man. He would take on the physical battle for her if he could. I say physical only because anyone that loves their wife as much as he does is already impacted by the emotional challenge she is faced with too. We also have the support of what we call our "Moore Fight Moore Strong" army. What I've learned throughout this process is my best friend isn't just super woman to me, there are almost 1300 others that care for her well-being and want to support her as much as I do. Jess is a nurse manager of a skill care unit and would prefer to care for others over herself. It's unbelievable to her the support she has received from our local community but to me it is totally believable because of the type of person Jess is.
I think the key lesson I have learned with this experience of having a loved one diagnosed with MBC is that it's important to figure out a way to manage the diagnosis and stay positive so it doesn't consume you. Jess and I still laugh all day every day. I still tell her if I feel I had a bad day even though I know my bad days are not nearly as challenging as hers. She still cares about me she still wants us to be normal. We are normal and quite honestly we are more connected than I ever thought I could be with a friend. She has shown me what true friendship means and how to fight a challenge head on. She will never quit and neither will I. Our family chooses to face MBC head on and fight. Our goal is to raise as much awareness to MBC as we possibly can.
What it's like being diagnosed with MBC
by Laura’s friend, Jess Moore
I have metastatic breast cancer. Is this really happening? How long was I going to live, what was my new normal going to be like? Could I handle the emotional fight? Could I handle treatment? Could the people I love dearly handle it? What about my husband, Matt - how was this fair to him? Would I be able to do all the things I dreamed of - that we dreamed of? My family and friends – it’s not fair to them. I can't imagine not being there for them.
These are the thoughts that raced through my mind. Each day I think about my life. I think about the goals I had set, the family and friends I loved so much, my work that I was passionate about, and the possibilities of the future - Matts future - would I be there for him? I wasn't sure if any of these things were going to happen. The thought of not being there made me sick. It is a heavy weight that I still carry on my shoulders. I felt guilty that the people I love have to deal with this too. It wasn't fair! I hate the thought of any of them worrying about me. There are so many memories I cherish but so many more lay ahead and I am angry that MBC is threatening to take those memories away from me.
My husband and I dreamed about our future every day. We looked forward to so many wonderful things, but were all those wonderful things taken away? I dreamed of growing old with him. I wanted to be there for his ups and downs. I wanted to support him in his career and celebrate life with him. Often we talked about watching our own children grow. Before cancer we had been struggling to have a family; it was devastating but there was still possibility. Now we were faced with not having that chance. We talked about watching our kids grow up with all of the amazing kids in our life; wanting so badly to have a family. Now it seems to me breast cancer has stolen all of this from me, from us. I was angry, I felt like life stopped.
From day one the support has always comforted me and fueled me to keep fighting no matter what. My best friend hasn't missed a beat since the day I was diagnosed. Lucky for me she is Matt's cousin and they are more like brother and sister. She has rallied our family and friends from day one and there was no doubt in my mind I was going to fight harder than I ever had. MBC has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. MBC will not and has not taken away my life, it has challenged me and tested my strength but never have I wanted to stop fighting.
The support I have received has been both empowering and overwhelming at times. I'm a nurse. I take care of people every day. I now have adjusted to letting people help me. My friends and family have gathered and formed Moore Fight Moore Strong. It has been the fuel to my fight, and every day I am reminded why I will never stop fighting. MBC will not define who I am, and as I fight I hope to bring awareness to a battle so many face.
The constant cycle of living with MBC can be tiresome. Scans, tests and treatments over and over. Hoping and praying every three months that my current treatment is working. Accepting the new normal and having faith that the current treatment course is working. The constant roller coaster of emotions and the worrying about what we can't control, but MBC, although it may challenge me, will never define who I am. With the support of my amazing husband, our family and our friends, I will never stop fighting.
Moore Fight Moore Strong
www.moorefightmoorestrong.com
