Five Years

I’m sitting here trying to find the words to express the last five years and there are so many emotions and thoughts going through my head. I’m not sure where to start, but here I go.

Five years ago at the beginning of the year, my husband and I rang in the new year as we usually do. Dressed comfortably, enjoying a homemade dinner and watching the NYC ball drop. The next morning we planned to join friends of ours for a New Years Day party. We got all dressed up and enjoyed a day at a city club with food, dancing and good company. Later this month, my dad and I enjoyed our annual trip to UD for a Dayton Flyers basketball game. Then a few weeks later I experienced my first Super Bowl - Super Bowl XLIX- in Arizona. I wasn’t going to the BIG GAME, but I was lucky to be a part of events leading up to the Super Bowl including The Valor & Victory 5K with NFL and Pat Tillman Foundation, an Iron Chef event, Roast with Terry Bradshaw and my favorite which was dancing the night away with Pitbull. February 1st was the date of the game and who knew that 18 days later I would have a season of games of my own to play for the next year. I would remember each coach, tackle, fumble, lose, celebrations, cheering section and win.

In September of 2014, I found a lump on my right breast and under my right armpit after a yoga class. After feeling it for a few days I made the call to go into my gynecologist. I saw a nurse practitioner who gave me an exam and proclaimed that I was too young and that I didn’t have anything to worry about. She did, however put in an order for me to go in for an ultrasound. Because it didn’t seem urgent to have the test I didn’t make it right away. It wasn’t until I received a call in December saying that the doctor’s office didn’t see that I had the ultrasound done. As soon as I hung up I called to schedule an ultrasound. I wasn’t able to get in until February.

I am grateful to have made it to the five year mark from being diagnosed. I am cancer free and in remission according to my doctors, but for me I look at being in the clear 5 years from my last herceptin treatment (for being Her2 +) which will be in February of 2021. It is important for me to celebrate this milestone (of 5 years from being diagnosed) though because there have been a lot of peaks and valleys over the past 5 years and I want to recognize the challenges, the successes, the failures, the beautiful moments, the risks taken as these have gotten me to today and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I certainly would not have said this when I was at my all time lows; feeling the most tired I’ve ever been, experiencing nausea unlike I have ever felt, being the most anxious and scared about whether treatment or surgery worked and laying in bed not sure how I was going to get up after surgery and the worst night sweats, but it only gave me a better perspective on life, living and letting.

After being diagnosed and going through treatment, my world changed and I would experience so many firsts, unknowns and scares. I had my first ever CT Scan, Echo and MRI. The CT and Echo weren’t too bad, but I was not prepared for the MRI. I thought I was going to get headphones…I guess not! Then, I was told before chemotherapy I had to decide how I would want to have a family (if I wanted one). Wait … I wouldn’t be able to have a baby naturally? No, the chemotherapy would damage my insides and the medication I would have to take to prevent the cancer from coming back would distort a fetus. I would have to stick myself with needles filled with estrogen (a hormone in my body that was aiding to my cancer) to harvest my eggs. I was told my body would change- I would lose my hair, I would lose my breasts and I would lose the opportunity to carry my child. Oh ya and I would feel and experience side effects no one could prepare you for. There would be so many losses and no one really prepares you for that and how to handle them. I not only lost parts of my body that make me a woman, my breasts, fallopian tubes and right ovary (in surgery I had a few years later which I will share more about), but I lost my uncle and grandmother within months of each other the year I was diagnosed and then the following year lost my grandfather. I lost friends because of my diagnosis and I lost friends because of their diagnosis. I had foreign objects put in my body- a port, expanders, and implants. I was admitted to the ER for the first time for lack of white blood cells, which was one of the scariest moments. I had my first real surgery that put me in on an operating table. I was lucky I never had to experience surgery other than having my wisdom teeth out and implants put in my mouth. I received a few tattoos (I am not someone who is really into tattoos so this was a new experience and I’ll share more later), was burned (on my chest, underarm and back) as well as covered with bruises and scars that never seem to go away (they have faded though). I learned about support and how those close to you respond to a cancer diagnosis. Many in my life took a back seat. People can only do what they can do, I’ve been told. I discovered that working and fighting cancer was a lot harder than I thought. Going back into an office after being out for months during treatment changed a lot. I was treated very differently and the support I initially had vanished. I would eventually leave the office to try to start over, but survivorship took a toll on my anxiety and I experienced one of the worst panic attacks.

The Scars - Drains, Ports, Surgery, Biopsies, Radiation

Completed Chemotherapy and last Herceptin

While all of these unfortunate lows were taking place, I was fortunate to experience new and amazing things that would help me grow as a person as well as help me fight. I traveled to new places - Toronto, Spain, Switzerland, Vancouver, Whistler, Austin, Maui, Lake Tahoe, Boston and Mexico. In these new places, I was able to experience activities for the first time - I flew front row in a helicopter, went sledding from the top of a mountain, rode in a hot air balloon, swam in a cenote (of stalagmites), drove a boat and jumped off a few cliffs (and bridges). Many of these activities I would never ever had thought of doing before, but here was my chance and well why not! Of course when my daughter came I knew that I needed to tone it down, but I would still consider taking a small risks and trying new things. I started taking guitar lessons. I challenged myself camping and canoing out in the wilderness and kayaking on white water rapids. My husband and I purchased our first house after my radiation was complete. I was ready to start fresh in a new home and we were lucky to be able to make this happen.

Not only was I able to experience but I was able to grow as a person in this time. I grew so much more respect and love for my husband and caregiver more than ever. I knew he loved me but wow I didn’t let in how much he truly cared until the moments where he was there for me all the way. I realized that I needed to slow down and take care of myself with as little stress as possible. I was told it is important to take time for your self and implement self self-care. I never really did this before, but I would soon start. I continued my yoga practice and pilates reformer classes and treated myself to a pedicure every once in a while (I still do). One important recommendation from the doctor I received to help prevent my cancer from coming back was to remove as much stress from my life. I feel that the stress I have removed has been very beneficial.

Top of Europe - Jungfraujoch Switzerland

Swimming with the beluga whales at the Shedd

White Water Kayaking with First Descents in Oregon

As the years went on I started thinking more about what I ate and drank, how I gave my body energy and how I thought about life, living in the present and not always in the future (as I usually did). I came to terms with a lot of things including my so called “new” normal. I don’t love this term, however I didn’t go back to the normal life I was living. Life and how I would experience it did change. What would I describe as my “new” normal? Well it includes always seeing doctors for exams every 3-6 months, focusing on early detection, taking daily medication for 10 years, feeling like I am still forgetting everything (does chemo brain last forever? I sometimes think it does) and constantly being on edge with anxiety. My “new” normal is looking at my naked body very differently than I ever had. I was never attached to my breasts, but seeing tattooed nipples on fake boobs with a super thin chest every day is not the body I thought I’d be looking at in my 30s. I am grateful for my body and while different, I have a lot more respect for it and what it went through. I am also more conscious of what goes in regarding food and beverages. My “new” normal is every ache and pain, every new feeling in my body automatically heightening my anxiety to think the worst and ask what if. I also came to terms with not having a family in the natural way. It wasn’t easy for me, but now that I’m 5 years out and have the most beautiful, energetic little girl I’ve settled with the fact that I didn’t carry her in my womb, give birth to her or breast feed. I still was able to take her from the warmer and have skin- on -skin bonding time within a minute of her being in this world. There are so many things that cancer takes from you, but you decide how you want to live and grow and not let cancer change your life forever. Someone beautiful I know said, “I am not going to live like I am dying, but die like I am living.” This beautiful woman has metastatic breast cancer, but she is still living, working, growing her family and being the best version of herself.

I have decided I will continue to take risks like starting my blog and my new build your own curated caring crate business. I will make time for myself and enjoy some “me-time”. I will challenge myself with a new activity; maybe a dance class. (My Pilates teacher told me I missed my dance calling). I will continue to try new foods and see new sites. I will remove the toxic people and things from my life. I will see the beauty in curiousity through my daughter’s eyes. I will continue to be me - an emotional, caring, adventure seeking, independent, unique, fire-type thriver. I will continue to see my therapist and talk about how I’m feeling. I will continue to tell my story. I will continue to be a support for those affected by cancer and I will continue to be a mother, wife, daughter, and sister all while “living with my hair down” and “letting it be!” To the next 5 years!

About a month ago when I went axe throwing with The Breasties! (Still haven’t quite grown the eyebrows back in!)

Body, Double Mastectomy, Chemotherapy, Lifestyle, Mind, Radiation, Support, Survivors, Young AdultsLauren LoprioreFebruary 18, 2020My Story, Breast Cancer, Living, Support, Awareness, Health, Grateful, MindfulComment