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Age: 30-39
Terri
breast cancer
stage one

I don't know why I was so insistent about having a baseline mammogram at age 35, but I was. No family history. I don't smoke or drink caffinated products. The mammogram showed micrcalcifications, so we did another mammogram 6 months later. The doctor said, come back in a couple years - nothing to worry about.

At age 38, I scheduled myself for a routine mammogram. Since I was bringing film from the previous mammogram with me, the technician asked the radiologist to read the film right away. I could tell it wasn't good news. They said they would FAX the results to my OB and that the microcalcifications had expanded.

The world came tumbling in. I couldn't function without bursting into tears. I was terrified. I have two young girls, age 5 and 7 and all I could think of was how much they needed me. Worse, my OB wasn't available the entire day - so I had something wrong with my mammogram and my doctor wasn't available to tell me what it was.

As a precaution, I scheduled an appointment with another OB for the following day and asked that my mammogram results be faxed to his office as well. I figured that I would want a second opinion on whatever news was coming my way.

One OB suggested a needle biopsy. The other OB recommended I see a specialist - a surgeon specializing in oncology surgery. I went with the specialist because he said a needle biopsy might miss an area we really want to see, so he recommended a surgical biopsy. Made sense to me. I wasn't at all concerned about my breast - I wanted conclusive information. I did not want to live everyday wondering if something was spreading inside my body.

Once I knew what I was going to do, I was emotionally fine. My family and friends were amazed but to me, this was the best way to resolve any questions.

Surgery went fine and I was really feeling great. The doctor didn't see anything that gave cause for concern so I was really "up", believing it was over.

The next day the doctor called at 5:00. I knew it wasn't the news I was hoping for. He said that the pathology report showed DCIS - but there was a small area - 1 millimeter in size, that was just beginning to bud outside the duct wall. Basically, we were catching this at the earliest possible stage.

That night I was an emotional wreck. I had breast cancer. My husband was traveling and wasn't due home until 9:00. I talked with my family and it was probably the most emotional thing I've ever had to do. I was with my two beautiful girls the entire evening and I couldn't stop thinking that women die from breast cancer.

I met with the surgeon again the next day, with my husband. He said at the least we should do a lumpectomy to take a greater area of tissue - just to play it safe. But he really felt that a mastectomy was a better option. I was awfully young to have this and he was concerned that a lumpectomy could leave an area that might develop in the future.

As a further complication, I have a condition called pre-mature menopause - technically premature ovarian failure. All my doctors agreed that I needed to take estrogen to minimize my risk of heart disease and osteoporosis (I'm very petite). I already had scattered calcifications in my healthy breast, but taking estrogrn meant that I would need to take Tomoxifen to block the estrogen. While a wonder drug for many women, I know that is does increase the risk of uterine cancer. For me, I wasn't looking to trade off breast cancer for uterine cancer. If I opted for a double mastectomy, I wouldn't need drugs, chemo or radiation. My breasts seemed a pretty small sacrifice for the peace of mind of knowing this would be over.

I found that joking helped me and those close to me. I told them that if my breasts had been magnificent, maybe it would be harder to think about parting with them. But my breasts had never been particularly impressive.

While it was a big step and an invasive surgery, I wanted to make certain (or as certain as possible) that I resolved this cancer. I wanted it out of my body and my life. If I had done any less and the cancer came back in the left breast, I would have kicked myself for not doing more when I had the chance. This is truly the philosophy that guided all my decisions.

I was looking for the best chance to keep the greatest amount of time on my life's "clock". I want to raise my children.

I found that I needed to talk about what treatment I had chosen and why. I think it helped me mentally, to reinforce that it was the right decision for me. Every time I told a friend of family member about it, it helped make me feel more confident and reassured. It also helped to talk with women who had been through this - it inspired me to hear from women who had breast cancer 16 years ago; or talk with a women about my age who had similar circumstances. I learned something from everyone I talked to and I felt like I had a huge support group helping me through the toughest times.

Again, once I knew what I was going to do, I became emotionally calm and was very ready for my surgery. From the day of my mammogram until my mastectomy was just 2 weeks - and it seemed like eternity when I was going through it.

To hear a diagnosis of "cancer" is one of the most terrifying things to live with. It changes you forever - although not all of it is negative. Through this experience I have found so many women with similar experiences; I have new friends; a renewed appreciation for the important things in life, and a renewed respect for myself. My experience has also motivated a lot of friends to get their mammograms NOW.

I wake up every morning and thank God that I have another day with my family.

It's only been a month since my surgery. I've just begun breast reconstruction - which will take some time to complete. I know I will have emotional set-backs - worries about recurrence, questions about my health, etc. But I am going to do my best to think of this cancer as something I HAD. I don't want breast cancer to be the label for my life. I know it will always be a part of my past, but I want to move on and not let it dictate my daily life.

I hope this helps other young women facing the terrifying diagnosis of cancer. Family and friends will help you through the darkest hours and there is definitely light at the end of the tunnel.

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