My heart is torn. Do I make more posters for the Women’s March that we will be attending in 2 hours-or do I sit down and write a post about my cancer? Several people have kindly let me know that I don’t need to take on the burden of our country right now. That I have another fight to fight. I can’t seem to separate the two battles in my heart or in my body. I made it a goal to avoid any inauguration news yesterday but the waiting room at the doctor’s office had a glimpse of Obamas getting onto the chopper and waiving goodbye to us, to me, and a sob welled up in my throat and my body heaved to keep it all in.
Last week my parents joined me for a post-op appointment with my breast surgical oncologist. He started by confirming that the surgery was a success. They removed the entire tumor and all possible lymph nodes. The tumor and lymph nodes were sent to a lab for an extensive pathology report. The report said the the tumor was 8.3 centimeters and it was all cancer. At one point the doctors thought that maybe the large size of the tumor was due to inflammation and precancer. They removed 20 lymph nodes under my right armpit. Eighteen of the 20 lymph nodes had cancer in them. The chemotherapy might’ve shrunk the tumor by a tiny bit, but it didn’t work as well as they expected. I am reclassified as Stage 3C.
It was sobering to hear that this thing I’m fighting is worse than we imagined. My doctor called it a beast. We were filled with gratitude and fear and we all wept together in that room. And now we march! I march with my sisters in New Orleans. I will march into radiation. I will march into more procedures to remove ovaries, and whatever else they may need to take.