Karen: My background and diagnosis

Listen With 9 minutes, 11 seconds.

Hello. My name is Karen. I am now 50 years old. I live in Sacramento, California. I have a life partner. Jackie and I are both domestic partners. I don't have any children. I am a learning disabled person. I was main-streamed from classes for the mentally retarded when I was in the fifth grade. From then on, I attended regular classes. In 1970, I graduated from high school. During the early 1970's I attended a community college. In 1972, I graduated from there. After that I was in training programs and worked in various jobs.

My health was pretty good until the mid-forties. At the age of forty-six, I was diagnosed with diabetes. I started to learn how to monitor myself and I found out ways to curb that sweet tooth. The diabetes is controlled with diet and exercise. During a routine exam in November of 1998, our family physician (Jackie sees him, too) noticed that something was really wrong with my left breast. I didn't like the way it was looking either. I was referred to another physician, a general surgeon, and I started seeing this physician in early December. All kinds of lab work was done to determine what the problem entailed. Nothing was conclusive. So the open biopsy of the left breast was done on December 18th. On December 22nd, I found out the news.

I remember feeling very upset and angry on that day, before I saw my physician. I don't remember the exact words, but I think my physician said something like, "Well, it's a tumor." I waited a minute and then asked, "Is it cancer?" He replied, "Yes." I think I sighed audibly and the thought flashed through my mind, "How am I going to get through this?" I didn't think I was going to die, though. Jackie and Lady, her guide dog, were with me. Under California State law, I was given a booklet which explained the types of breast cancer a woman could be diagnosed with; stages, treatment options, etc.

The breast cancer I was diagnosed with was called cystosarcoma phyllodes. During the visit, I found out that the only way I could get rid of the tumor, was to have a mastectomy. Since the tumor was fast-growing, and was too large for a lumpectomy. Having a mastectomy was fine with me. It was stage II breast cancer. Jackie cried and gave me hugs. I hugged her back and tried to remain calm.

The treatment plan--surgery

While I was waiting to see when I was scheduled for surgery, I was doing my best to adjust to what my left breast looked like. It was grotesque. Jackie and I did our best to make Christmas a good day. The paperwork was completed properly for Medicare and Medi-Cal, and the mastectomy was scheduled for December 30, 1998. On that day, the three of us took Para-transit to the hospital, since I don't drive. It didn't take me long to get ready. Most of the time was spent waiting. Jackie was allowed to talk to me part of the time. Our friends watched Lady, while she was with me. After she left the room, I was feeling cross. I was hungry and anxious. I had to go to the bathroom twice before they finally got me.

I remember the anesthesiologist teasing me by saying something like, "Let's pour some margaritas in here!" I can't drink, so I thought that the remark was funny. I reassured the medical people that the music was all right. I had never heard music played in an operating room before. All I remember, before being put under, was switching myself to the operating room table and being strapped down. It evidently didn't take too much to get me into fantasy land.

Before the surgery took place, my physician reassured Jackie that I would be all right and that she didn't have too long to wait. During the surgery, our family physician assisted. It took under an hour to have the left breast removed, and have the surgical drainage bulb inserted. Since the tumor was considered to be lymph node negative, my left underarm was left alone. As I was being wheeled along to the recovery room, I remember saying, "It's gone!"

Staying strong and positive through the recovery

I was trying to reassure the medical staff that I was going to recover from the surgery. I said something like, "Yes, I'm going to recover. I weighed one pound nine ounces at birth." I didn't say anything more. I think they were surprised, but that was the only way I could think of to reassure them. I was telling these folks the truth, though. My birth weight was very small. I felt that since I survived infancy, I was certainly going to survive this. I was born three months prematurely during the summer of 1951.

Jackie and Lady eagerly waited in the hospital room. I tried to talk to her. My speech came out as nonsense. Jackie was very nice about it. Dinner was eaten in less than half an hour. I didn't have any problem. I had my strong glasses off most of the time. That was done on purpose. Since I wasn't in any pain, I was released the next day, which was New Year's Eve, 1998. I really wanted to be home with Jackie and Lady.

On January 7, 1999, the stitches and the surgical drainage bulb was removed. I almost cried, but I reassured my physician and Jackie that I would adjust to it. I think I'm adjusting well. Jackie goes with me, when I have physician visits, along with Lady. I didn't require chemotherapy or radiation treatment. My mastectomy scar is my badge of courage. After considerable thought, I decided not to get a prosthesis. The decision was left entirely up to me. Reconstructive surgery was not an option at all. I feel that whatever a woman decides on what to do after the mastectomy is--signed and sealed--is entirely up to her. I consider myself to be a whole person and I'm not ugly. I'm not afraid to go out.

Karen's maintenance plan

Since early 2001, I've been going to cancer check-ups once a year. I make sure I do breast self-exams on the remaining breast, examine both underarms, and do a chest wall exam on the left side regularly. I have a diagnostic mammogram done before the cancer check-up. I'm diligent in asking all three of my physicians' questions. I see an ophthalmologist, too. I don't take any form of phytoestrogen. When menopause will be completed, I will not take HRT. I am getting used to the hot flashes. For the mood swings, I take St. John's wort. All three of my physicians know I take it. It is vital for me to be honest and up front with members of my health care team. Since I'm also diabetic, it's important for me to eat well.

Lessons to live by

I am grateful to be alive. Jackie's love and God's love has sustained me. I am fortunate to have three caring and compassionate physicians. I feel it's necessary for me to be understanding and honest with my significant other. It's also important to offer encouragement and hope to other cancer survivors. Praying for those facing physical and mental problems helps, too. It's vital for me to find out all I can about the health conditions I am dealing with. Some of them require medications. I don't regard myself as ill. I am in good health. A positive attitude and a sense of humor helps. I am learning how to laugh.

In conclusion, I want to say that I am not ashamed to be a breast cancer survivor and that I am proud to be a Wall of Tolerance honoree.

Help |  About CSN  | Legal & Privacy Information