By Alyce Stewart
On October 19, 2016, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My first reaction was, “Are you kidding me?” I had already gone through this drill once, diagnosed in December 1993 with stage II kidney cancer. This was not a scenario I ever wanted to repeat, but there it was… the Big C, once again staring me in the face. How could this happen? I had my annual mammogram in January, and the results were negative, with no evidence of disease. Breast cancer doesn’t run in my family, and kidney cancer doesn’t metastasize there. Did I lose a bet or what?
Being a type A personality, I went home, got on my computer, and did exactly what the doctors tell you not to; I went to the internet. Having supported many others through their breast cancer journeys, I was pretty well versed in the subject, or so I thought. Nope, I had no idea what was ahead for me. But the one thing I did know was had I not listened to my inner voice and my aching body, this may not have been diagnosed. Hmmm, that’s a familiar story; seems I was on this path before.
Oh yes, I remember it took almost ten years to discover the tumors growing in my kidney. In the late 80s, I complained of pains in my back, headaches, and flu-like symptoms. Many doctors saw me over the ensuing years and said ridiculous things; for instance, “Your underwear is too tight.” What a bizarre diagnosis, and there would be others just as absurd. The last one was my favorite, “You’re that age.” What the heck does that mean?
I finally met a doctor in November 1993 who listened and sent me for an ultrasound. As I lay on the table, I asked the technician if I could watch, and she said, “sure.” She applied the cold, goopy gel, adjusted the screen so I could see, and began the exam. We were chatting with each other when there it was: a white, ghostly-looking image. She stopped talking; the quiet scared me as I realized it wasn’t supposed to be there. When she finished, she softly asked if I had a follow-up with my doctor, and then I knew something was very wrong. A week later, the prognosis came back, and that was the first time I met the Big C. I was hospitalized immediately and lost my right kidney on the 9th of December 1993. After removing the kidney, the doctors pronounced me cured, and I thought I had dodged a bullet.
As the years passed, I would tell others to listen to their bodies and not give up. I told them to get second opinions and to question their doctors. I was on a mission; I wanted to save others from going through what I did, searching for answers to my pain. I would tell them you know your body best, listen to it. I thought I’ve got this. WRONG!
In 2010 I went to my GYN doctor and told her I had a strange pain in my left breast. She examined me and said, “You’re fine; you just need better bras.” Yup, underwear again. This scenario played out for several years; why I didn’t question her, I honestly don’t know. Here I was telling others to seek second opinions while I accepted what my doctor said. I turned a deaf ear to my body’s messages and never sought a second opinion. What a hypocrite I was.
In 2016 the pain worsened and spread to my armpit; I thought I had pulled a muscle. I had massages, adjustments, and exams. Nothing worked, the pain continued, and there was no relief. It was time to listen to my body and get to the bottom of this. I got my second opinion when I saw my family doctor, who ordered multiple tests resulting in a diagnosis of breast cancer both in my left breast and my left axilla. I learned I had dense breasts, and my mammograms could not pick up these images. With dense breasts, other tests have to be ordered, such as MRIs and ultrasounds. I had surgery, chemo, and radiation and was declared NED: no evidence of disease.
My mission continues as I jog along this crazy trail called life. I talk about dense breasts and share my story of six years of pain and not seeking a second opinion. I didn’t listen to my body, and I put all my trust in a doctor’s hands, which was a huge mistake. I stress that you MUST listen to your body, don’t ignore the message, and seek other opinions. The results can be deadly if you don’t.
When I had my surgery in 2017 for my breast cancer, the doctor was unable to remove all of the cancer, so I was deemed at risk. Due to this risk, I have been having blood work every six months. In October 2023, my cancer marker results were high. I was told this could be a false positive and the test was repeated a week later, again the results were high. After much testing it was determined that I am now in stage 4 and I have metastatic breast cancer (MBC) in my lung and bones.
I have now added speaking about MBC and explaining that there are many treatment options available, and patients are living longer with this diagnosis. I am a Thriver and I tell my story and talk about MBC whenever I can. Education and early detention are so important, and I emphasize that to all because I feel so blessed that this was found as early as it was. I have monthly treatments and will for the rest of my life. I’m doing well, my breast cancer is under control, but now I live with a chronic disease, metastatic breast cancer, because I did not listen.
Your body knows; listen to it!
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