CANCER

This time, three years ago, I was finishing up my radiation therapy. I had already finished all 8 cycles of my chemotherapy and my hair was even starting to grow back. I was optimistic about my future, I mean I still believed I had one. I tested positive for BRCA 1 but I didn't let that affect my positive attitude. Alot of people live with BRCA 1 (including Angelina Jolie) and they live long and meaningful lives. I was such a fighter and a survivor and I wanted to believe that I had beat cancer. I heard the stories of others 'beating cancer' why couldn't I be one of them. Early 2012 I had a bilateral mastectomy as a preventative measure to nearly eliminate the risk of breast cancer again and I spent all of 2012 and early 2013 with a plastic surgeon reconstructing my breasts. The final surgery happened on my birthday of this year. I turned 31 and I thought what better way to celebrate by birthday then finally closing the 'cancer' book and opening the book of my future. The rest of my life. I was optimistic.

Two weeks later I developed a terrible cold and along with it a cough. I thought it was probably just a virus and due to the recent surgery my immune system was weakened a little. I waited to get better, but I didn't. I went to my family doctor who told me in not so many words "I don't even know why you're here, its just a cold" and sent me on my way. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Walking winded me. This was really, really unusual.

I saw my oncologist mid April and mentioned the shortness of breath to her. She listened to my chest and sent me off for an immediate x-ray. It was the first time I heard the term 'pleural effusion', that's what I had. Pleural Effusion of the right lung. It seemed to alarm all the doctors around me. This can't be good.

Pleural effusion: excess fluid that accumulates between the two pleural layers, the fluid-filled space that surrounds the lungs. Excessive amounts of such fluid can impair breathing by limiting the expansion of the lungs during ventilation.

I had to wait a week to have any fluid drained and in the mean time I saw my plastic surgeon who amplified the severity of the situation. He hoped that maybe I had a history of Tuberculosis because that would be much better than the alternative... the cancer coming back. I immediately flashed back 3 years when my oncologist told me "if the cancer comes back... people don't recover when the cancer comes back." Sure enough the pathology report confirmed breast cancer cells in the pleural fluid. CT scans and bone scans also confirmed that there were small tumours developing on the pleural wall, left lung and possibly a rib.

Immediately my medication was changed. The tamoxifen/Zoladex combo I was taking had run its course and was no longer effective. Instead I was prescribed an aromatase inhibitor called Letrozole and sent immediately for a oophorectomy. I had a chest tube put in at the 'Malignant Pleural Effusion Clinic' where I was now a patient and had a palliative care nurse come into my home daily to drain it. In the beginning I was getting 700 ml drained everyday so naturally I assumed the worst and imagined the rest of my life with a chest tube. Kill me now! Eventually the amount of fluid draining decreased and then finally it stopped. To my absolute glee they agreed to take the tube out and manually take the rest of the fluid out (a big long needle in my back). If nothing else I was still going to enjoy the summer and actually be able to swim.

Today I got the results for all of the re-testing that was done, another CT scan and bone scan, so a comparison could be made with April's results and we could determine whether the new meds were working.

Inconclusive... is what I gathered but what I did hear is this.

"On the CT scan they see three small tumours in your right lung about 1cm or less in size each. In the left lung we see the same. There is also a small blip in your liver that might be cancer so we will have to ultrasound for that. Also in your spine on vertebrate 3 and 9 it looks like breast cancer is in there as well as in your chest bone closer to the right side. The good news in (I guess) that the pleural region stopped producing fluid even though there are small nodular tumours on the pleural region wall. Also the pleural wall is abnormally thick."

I want to fucking yell and scream and punch and stomp and slash. I hate everything right now.

Three years ago I was determined to not be define by my cancer. "I am not my cancer! I am Angi Orchard and I have cancer but I am not my cancer". I was so naive back then, I really thought I could win this fight. In reality I am my cancer. It decides my life and how long it will be. It decides how I feel and if I am able to the things that I enjoy. It has even thrown a monkey wrench in my vacation plans for this fall. It owns me and that makes me feel very angry and helpless.

So now I wait, my whole life is waiting, for he next move from my oncologists. I try to stay positive but it just feels so futile. My cancer is going to kill me, the only question is when. 1 year? 2 years? 5 years?

What a fucking waste.