By Holly Wintrip
My breast cancer journey started long before my diagnosis at age 45. During my thirties, my friend Amy was diagnosed with breast cancer in her left breast. Amy and I became friends through our kids when they were in preschool. She was a kickass woman from Texas who ferociously loved her boys, family and friends. She was never afraid to speak her mind and was always helping other people. When she was diagnosed, she insisted I feel her tumor, so I’d know what it felt like. She endured a lot during her journey, but I remember her distinctly telling me she should have had a double mastectomy instead of a single one because her cancer showed up in the remaining “good” breast forcing her to have another major surgery. Sadly, Amy passed away in October of 2005, but little did she know that her words and actions would later save my life.
In September of 2015 while on a trip to Vegas to the “Life is Beautiful” music festival, I decided to do a self-exam. You know the kind where you’re lying in bed and you think “Oh, I’ll just do a quick boobie check.” I’d been doing self-exams for years but this time I felt something, and I froze in fear. I kept touching and feeling the spot while my husband, Scott, looked on with concern. I told him immediately that something wasn’t right and made him feel the spot. We both knew that in that instant our lives were changing.
Knowing how your breasts feel is so important. Mine were always dense and lumpy. What I felt didn’t feel like a tumor. It was a hardness with no defined outer edges. I knew it was off because I had never felt that before. And, I knew it was something wrong because I had felt Amy’s. Amy’s tumor was in the 12 o’clock position in her left breast….and so was mine.
Getting my diagnosis confirmed was incredibly stressful because I had to strongly advocate for myself and ask for second opinions. The first radiologist and my gynecologist’s PA both told me it was a fibroid cyst. Had I listened to them the cancer would have gone unchecked. Thankfully, I insisted on an appointment with my gynecologist who ordered further scans. I went to the same center and had an on-call radiologist who didn’t dismiss me. He confirmed what I felt with an ultrasound said I needed a biopsy. I told him I wanted him to do it, not the other guy. He made room for me in his schedule for an ultrasound guided biopsy. Sure enough, it was breast cancer. By now, it was almost ten years to the date of Amy’s death. I could hear her voice telling me to fight and keep advocating for myself.
One of the best things I can recommend is building a group of people to help you through this. These people be it friends, family, and medical professionals help ease the burden on your main caregivers, mine being my husband followed by my daughter, Mackenzie. My friend, Sharon, was the first medical person to join my team. As the search for doctors started, she called me and said “You need to see Dr. Blumencranz. He’s the best.” She would know as she had been his nurse anesthetist for years. When I heard his name was Peter William (my dad’s name) and met him, I was sold. Sharon helped me navigate the surgeries and was always on hand with good drugs to put me out! She brought a sense of humor and lightness to each surgery, and I couldn’t have done this without her.
Throughout all of this, I continued to teach middle school and only my principal knew what was happening. One day my fellow homeroom teacher, Liz, asked me if I was ok and wondered what was going on. She was new to the school, and I was hesitant to share my diagnosis with an acquaintance. I got over myself and told her my story. Thank goodness I did because she had just finished treatment 6 months before using the same surgeon and oncologist that I had been sent to! She became a vital part of my team as my medical journey ramped up.
The week of Thanksgiving, I had a lumpectomy and 3 sentinel nodes removed. My doctor ordered a Mammaprint test on the tumor to see what the rate of recurrence would be. I was told I was Stage IIA, Hormone Positive with IDC and DCIS. All nodes and margins were clear, but the Mammaprint came back with a high chance of recurrence. My oncologist said I would need four rounds of T/C (Taxotere/Cytoxan) and then radiation.
Liz told me that she saved her hair during chemo by cold capping. So, Scott ordered the cold caps and took charge of managing them because my chemo center did not have the Dignicap system. It was quite an ordeal to cold cap on my own. Scott was in charge of putting caps in a cooler of dry ice the morning of chemo. We had to arrive at the center at least 2 hours before my infusion to set up. The caps had to be kept at -32 degrees. I had to start wearing the cap 1 hour before the infusion started and at least 2 hours afterwards. He had to put a new cap on me every 30 minutes. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, frozen, nauseated and had ice in my hair. I did, in fact, save my hair which really helped me emotionally to see “me” in the mirror.
To be able to navigate treatments while working, I started chemo on December 31st. This way I wouldn’t have to take much time off due to the holiday break. The cold capping combined with the timing of chemo on a holiday meant we had to leave the cancer center when it closed at noon instead of staying there until the end of cold capping. I was just plain miserable from it all. Mackenzie and Scott had to support me through intense nausea and a breakdown upon my return from the cancer center.
I also thought I could do chemo in my veins and not get a port, which was a poor decision on my part. My arm bruised and my good vein blew out. I did ok with the Neulasta on-body injector, but I did have bone pain afterwards. Claritin helped with this. As for neuropathy, my onco told me to take Alpha Lipoic Acid and ice my fingers. It worked and any mild neuropathy that I did have went away.
I had a port inserted before my second chemo session and came armed with a heating blanket and peppermint oil. It all went ok, but I was still ready to quit. I went to my oncologist for my check up to tell him I was out. I’m done. Not doing this anymore. He calmly redirected me and said that everything would look better a year from now and then made the appointment for the third session (jerk :).
At the third session,