When Life Gives You Lemons… Make Pink Lemonade
Cancer doesn’t ask for permission. It barges in, uninvited, and rearranges everything. I know this intimately because I’m now facing my second battle.
Round One: The First Fight
My first diagnosis came in 2006: invasive right breast cancer, grade 2, triple positive, stage 2B with a positive lymph node. It was a whirlwind of four rounds of chemo (docetaxel, carboplatin, trastuzumab), followed by a partial mastectomy and axillary lymph node dissection in February 2007. Thankfully, no residual cancer was found.
The journey didn’t end there. I went through four more chemo cycles with dose-dense AC, 36.5 rounds of radiation in June 2007, and a series of treatments including Herceptin, which was discontinued early due to heart concerns, Tamoxifen, which was also stopped early due to side effects, and Zoladex. In August 2018, I underwent a laparoscopic bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy to reduce my hormone-related cancer risk.
It was a long road. I walked it. And I came out stronger.
Round Two: A Second Battle with Cancer
Fast forward to September 12, 2025. A routine screening mammogram. I had stopped holding my breath for these over the years, but on Sunday, September 14, I saw the results online and my heart sank.
By September 18, I was back for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. The radiologist didn’t sugarcoat it. “It’s cancer.” A biopsy was scheduled for October 6. On October 9, it was confirmed as malignant invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 3. The mass is deep, close to the chest wall, an MRI was performed on October 10th to confirm the size and involvement. The MRI stated the size was 2.2 cm.
This wasn’t a recurrence. It was a new, second primary cancer. Same breast, different location. This time it is triple negative, stage 2A.
Why I’m Sharing This
I’ve decided to share my story not just to process my own journey, but in hopes that it might help someone else walking a similar path. Cancer can feel isolating, but we’re never truly alone. If my experience offers comfort, insight, or even just a moment of connection, then it’s worth sharing.
I’ll also be using this space to post updates about my treatment and progress. It’s a way for friends and family to stay informed, and for me to reflect on each step forward. Thank you for being here. It means more than you know.