Pink Party - Breast Cancer Celebration

Okay, in my last post, I told you I would post my notes from my "speech" during the Pink Party celelbration last night. So, for those interested (it's a long read), here you go...

I am not a public speaker, and this is not a subject I really enjoy talking about. In fact, this is only the 2^nd time I have done so publicly. You will probably see me reading from my notes a lot, so please bear with me. The last time (and only other time) I spoke about this I typed out my notes, but didn’t want to get up on stage and read them, nor had I memorized them. So, I got up there, and basically skimmed over my notes as I spoke. Afterwards, I asked Damian how I had done. He said to me “It was good, but I liked the one you wrote better.” So, you are getting the one I wrote this time!

In August 2007, I went to a Dermatologist in Macon to have an area on my breast looked at. I was told over the previous 4-6 years by 3 different Gynecologist that it was “nothing to worry about”, “probably a clogged milk duct”, and having it removed would only be “replacing a scar with a scar.” That summer an email went around regarding a new form of breast cancer, that didn’t appear as a lump, but instead as a visible mark on the outside of the breast called Inflammatory Breast Cancer. I went to my Gynecologist, and showed her my spot again. She went over the symptoms for Inflammatory Breast Cancer with me, and we both agreed that my spot didn’t fit the bill. But to give me peace, she referred me to a Dermatologist.

So in August of that year I visited Dr. Kent. He looked at the spot on my breast, and told me, that he honestly had no idea what it was, but that he was sure it wasn’t cancer. However, because he was stumped he wanted to biopsy it. I agreed. I didn’t tell my mom or any of my family, because at that point, I felt he was right. 2 weeks later, I returned alone, to have my stitches removed, and Dr. Kent sat down, and started with…”First I want to apologize. Never in my 20+ years of practicing medicine have I ever told someone they didn’t have cancer, and was wrong; because if I have a shadow of a doubt, I don’t make promises. But this time I was wrong. I am so sorry.” He went on to tell me that I had a rare form of skin cancer Dermatofibrosarcoma Protuberans that effects the dermis layer of skin, and only the part that had spread to the epidermis was visible to the human eye.  In his entire career, he had seen these tumors only twice before, and both were benign. Mine was not. I was in shock. I didn’t cry, I just sat there, and listened as he told me what we would do next.

When I left that day, I called my husband Damian (who was then my boyfriend and was living in Texas). We talked. I cried. We planned for him to move back to Georgia. Then I did exactly what he and my doctor told me not to do….I googled it. “Dermatofibrosarcoma Protuberans – A Rare “neoplasma” of the dermis layer of skin. There is only 1 case per million per year. Very high recurrence rate. Does not respond well to chemo or radiation. Treatment options - surgery”

I had my first surgery (a Mohs procedure) in late September. It was local anesthesia only, so I was awake for the entire procedure. It was pretty much awful! They removed about a quarter size area from my breast that about an inch deep. The tissue was then sent off for testing to see if there were any clear edges around it. They would label the skin by 12 sections along the top, bottom and sides, and it would take 5 days to get the results. Only 2 of the 12 were clear. There are no words to truly describe my 2^nd surgery. I cried, I hyperventilated, I almost passed out multiple times through the procedure. It took hours, and they removed a section that was 2” x 3” wide. It was by far the most horrible thing I have ever medically been through. We then had the waiting game. 5 days later, I got the call that this time 10 of the 12 sections were clear, which meant another surgery. I was devastated. I had already had 1/3 or more of my breast removed, and I wasn’t ready for another surgery. Dr. Kent’s office was great, and my 3^rd surgery went much better than the 2^nd. They weren’t required to remove nearly as much skin & tissue this time. 5 days later, we finally got the call I had been praying for. 12 out of 12 areas were clear! The next step was plastic surgery. I had over 1/3 of my breast removed, and though the tissue would grow back rather quickly, the skin would not. Late November, I underwent skin graft surgery. They removed a portion of skin from my arm, and placed it on my left breast. Because I technically had an open wound for 2 months, my immune system was down. I was sick, and had a hard time with that surgery. My kidneys struggled to wake up after the surgery and I had to be rushed back to the emergency room. My physical wounds healed slowly. My emotional wounds healed even slower.

I had taken 1 week off of work for what I thought was going to be a simple outpatient surgery. I was finally released to go back to work after 13 weeks. A week after I returned I was told I was no longer needed. Those 3 months and the following 6 months were some of the darkest times in my life. I lost my job, my home, my physical beauty. I was angry. Angry at my boss, angry at my circumstances, angry at God. I mean really, really angry!

One day during worship at Christ Chapel Sportstowne, God asked me when I was going to stop being mad, when was I going to forgive him…not because he had done something wrong, but because I blamed him. Little by little I began to forgive him, and each time I would inch closer to forgiveness, he would open my eyes a little more to his plan.

But you see, forgiving God was easier than understanding why. I always thought forgiveness was the hard part, because it certainly isn’t the easy part, but trust was the hard part. Trusting that God’s why was good enough and even trusting that I may not ever know God’s why. That took years.

I’m 6 years this side of cancer, and I rarely talk about it. Sometimes, because I feel like my battle was shorter and easier than others, sometimes because I still get angry about it, and sometimes because there is more to tell then I want to admit.

You see, over the last 6 years, God has answered a lot of my “Why’s” though not all.

First, I know it wasn’t because I had done something wrong. Now don’t get me wrong…I am a professional sinner. I mean I am GOOD at it. But I don’t believe my cancer was God punishing me. John 9:3 says “’It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,’ Jesus answered. ‘This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.’”  This was a big deal for me. When I was 12 years old my aunt had a baby. She suffered severe postpartum depression, and as a result, cut ties with all of the family. At 12 I couldn’t understand that, but I could see the hurt it caused my family. 6 months later, she was diagnosed with leukemia. 1 month later, she passed away. As a child, I remember asking God often, if he had punished her, I also feared often that when I had done something wrong, that he would give me cancer too. I didn’t have a real understanding of what a loving God we have. Today I can tell you with confidence that God didn’t allow me to have cancer to punish me…He allowed me to have cancer so He could receive glory.

Second, I don’t believe God gave me cancer, but I do believe he allowed me to get it. I also believe he took it, and made something good out of it. Genesis 50:20 says “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.”

A year and half prior, I met Damian. Being from the deep south, my family was less than excited for me to be in an bi-racial relationship. Though on the surface they were “nice” to him, they did not approve of our relationship, and were just biding their time, waiting for us to break up. But I already knew I would marry this man. During one of my cry/prayer sessions with God, I remember telling him to do whatever it took to turn their hearts. I even remember telling him that if it meant something major happening to me that I could handle it.

During my surgeries (all 4 of them), my mom, dad and Damian all 3 sat in the waiting room together. Together they worried, prayed, talked, and formed this silent bond. They were all fighting for me….together. Over those 13 weeks, walls began to come down.

Finally, I know that God was with me the whole time. He heard my cries, my prayers, my pain. Psalm 41:3 says “The Lord nurses them when they are sick and restores them to health.” What comfort can we take knowing that God sees our weakness, and HE nurses us back to health. I know that for me, this wasn’t just a physical healing. During those dark months, the Lord was nursing my spirit man back to health too. When I called, when I begged, when I cried out, God was there for me. Matthew 7:7 “Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be open to you.” God hear, and he answered.

So whether you are going through cancer today, have been through it in the past, or know someone going through it, I want to encourage you that God is with you, He hears you, and He promises to be our nurse, our healer.

We may not get the answer to all of our whys this side of heaven. But we can be assured that God hears us, He loves us, and He has given me comfort in knowing that cancer or no cancer, no matter how good or bad the prognosis, living or dying, my eternity is secure. 2 Corinthians 4:17-18 says “For our present trouble are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever. So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now, rather we fix our gaze on thing that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”