My histochemical report came back. I am positive for HER2/neu. I had a very aggressive breast cancer. I want to cover my ears and go “nah-nah-nah- I can’t hear you. I don’t want to hear you.” but I can’t. My oncologist refered me to another oncologist for treatment.
Basically, my survival rate is 70% with just the mastectomy alone. If that isn’t scary enough, the fact that I had all that other additional stuff, the hematoma and staph infection means that the cancer had lots of opportunites to break free and go running through my body looking for another playground. Heck, only 1 to 4 % of people who get breast cancer have pagets, and only 20% have the protein involvement. Viewed in that light, 70% sounds too close to 50% for me to take a chance. With this treatment I get bumped up to 90%. That sounds better.
I’ve decided that having cancer is like being an alcholic, it’s never over. I will be having tests forever and my life will be changed forever. The whole reconstuction trama that I was putting myself through was pointless. Starting Monday, I will be having chemo every three weeks for four months. In addition to the chemo I get therapy for the HER-2 but that goes on for a year.
I was feeling bitter and sarcastic when a friend mentioned the hair loss. “I can’t decide.” I said to her,” Will losing my hair distract people from my missing breast, or will my missing breast distract people from my baldness?” Now I feel like a brute for saying that to her. Good thing I have lots of experience crocheting chemo caps.
The ironic part is that once again, I am lucky, apparently testing for HER2 is not routinely done for DCIS, but my oncologist believes in doing it for every cancer. If I was NOB and dependent up a health insurance plan to make my treatment decisions for me based on solely financial considerations….do I really need to finish this sentence?
I was feeling pretty crummy yesterday, I am not jumping up and down today, but at least I have a plan. I have friends,I have my family, and I have Husband.