Here I am, one year to the day when I heard the words “you have breast cancer”.
A breast cancer so rare that there’s not much out there on it. So rare I had a physician who’d never heard of it. I researched it tirelessly and what I found was frightening, but I did also find this amazing group of women on Facebook with my same diagnosis. There’s only around 700 of us. Only 0.5% of the population are affected with Metaplastic Breast Cancer worldwide. A drop in the breast cancer bucket.
I’m supposed to be happy now. I survived a double mastectomy, 16 rounds of chemo, multiple hospital stays, and losing my job. Most days I’m happy, but ask any MpBC sister (or any other cancer survivor) that sense of doom stays. An aggressively high recurrence rate makes you overthink EVERYTHING. Every little twinge. Everything. I have learned what matters and what doesn’t. However I miss carefree me. The one who didn’t have that big MpBC cloud and all it entails over my head. It’s been a tough month. Lost three sisters to MpBC. Seeing more women with recurrences. Most seem to be within 2 years of their initial diagnosis. So then you think….shit I’m already a year out from my initial diagnosis!!!!
Time passes too quickly.
As always #FuckCancer