Chapter Six – Surfing for a Cure

    The world wide web. It has become the great OZ of our Emerald Planet. Is there anything that you can't find through Google? Yes, you can find all sorts of answers to all sorts of questions. But you have to have discernment when it comes to what is truth and what is just someone's opinion or an outright lie.

    I don't believe everything someone tells me and I certainly don't believe it any more when it makes its way onto a blog or a website.

    Do you know how many results show up when you Google 'cancer cures'? As of this writing it is over 600,000 results. Six hundred thousand! How are you supposed to sift through all those to find the hidden pearl of wisdom? You can't. Just because a website shows up on the first page of a search doesn't mean that it is the right one.

    I have this conspiracy theory mindset going on about certain subjects on the web. I know that you can pay people to get your website to the top of a search list and I know that 'the powers that be' have everything to lose if people start looking for alternative answers to their diseases. There is a lot of money to be made from everyone but the patient when it comes to curing disease. Because of this you have to use your own intuition and discernment and you HAVE to do a lot of research.

    My challenge was that I didn't even know what I was looking for. Yes, I was looking for a cure but a cure from what? What is cancer? What caused it to come my way? It was then that I figured that what I would start looking for was the answer to my first question. What is cancer? After all, how can you cure something when you don't really know what it is or what causes it. Good idea, Kim.

    So that's where I began. I started Googling 'what is cancer?' I then used my logic to purposefully not look at any websites that were linked or sponsored by large non-profits or commercial associations that stood to make money if a cure for cancer was never found. I know this doesn't make sense to everyone, but being an entrepreneur I always knew that to find out where a problem is in any business you have to follow the money. If a business was struggling where was the money going? If a deal was cut that was not a win-win for all parties concerned (including the general population) then you had to follow the money. Where was all the money when it came to finding a cure for cancer? Who stood to benefit from a disease that went on for infinity?

    My search was on.

Chapter Five – Trying to Strike a Deal

    I am a fairly good negotiator. Well, I am when it comes to getting things for other people. For myself; not so much.

I did feel that after my diagnosis that I should have been able to negotiate a timeline for my treatment. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to try my negotiation skills. I was always faced with "We need to do this within the next two weeks." Why two weeks? Why not a month? How fast was this cancer growing? Didn't it take me years to get where I am right now? Doctors don't negotiate. I guess they don't have to.

    I began to wonder if doctors try to schedule surgeries based on their own availability. If my surgeon were leaving tomorrow for a trip around the world for two months would she have given me two and a half months to get the surgery performed or would she have referred me to another doctor?

    I needed at least six months to do everything I could to find out answers to my questions, get things in order and live what was left of a possibly normal life. Would they consider giving me six months? No? Why the rush?

    Maybe some people faced with a diagnosis such as this pull out their insurance card and jump right up on the operating table. Since my insurance was limited, I wasn't going to be one of them. I didn't have the insurance and I didn't have all my questions answered.

    This may be what saved my life or at least allowed me to make my own decisions.

Chapter Four (Meeting with the Consultant)

The day arrived when I was going to have everything explained to me regarding the mammogram and sonogram that I had gone through earlier in the week. Although I wasn't really looking forward to it, I knew that it wasn't going to be as bad as I thought it was going to be. I wasn't one of those people who was always sick or had migraines or had a regular doctor even. I wasn't allergic to anything. I wasn't even overweight.

    I drove myself to my appointment. After all, it wasn't necessary for Scott to be there just to hear them say that I was going to be fine. I could call him over the phone for that. We had already discussed that we would meet after my appointment for lunch.

    I sat in the waiting room. This time I was prepared. Although I didn't bring my laptop I did bring a book. It always made me feel good to have a book on me. Sure, doctor's offices have stuff to read, but I want something of my own choosing that I can dog ear and even mark up if I choose.

I couldn't remember a time in my life when books weren't important to me. They were often the only companions I really trusted. This book I held in my hand was no different. This book would be the only witness to this meeting between me and what I had decided to call 'the consultant.' I didn't want to think of myself meeting with a doctor. Doctors weren't meant to be questioned. After all they were the 'experts.' Consultants, on the other hand, would give you their opinions and then you had the chance to ask them questions and eventually decide for yourself. I wasn't planning on dealing with anymore 'experts' I had decided to start dealing with consultants.

    I had found Dr. M through a friend. Carol owned the local herb store and someone had come by with a book written by Dr. M. In his book he talked about preventing breast cancer through proper nutrition and the use of bio-identical hormones. Carol had become intrigued and handed me the book as soon as I had told her about the initial diagnosis. After reading the book I searched out this doctor and found that he was located less than an hour from me. I called to make the appointment and was told that it would be several weeks before an opening would be available. Okay. I'll wait.

    I had promised Meria (my doctor) that I would keep her updated so I picked up the phone to give her a call. When I told her about the delay and that I was fine with it she sounded noticeably concerned that waiting that long was not a good thing. She made a couple of phone calls and was able to get me in within a week. I was almost disappointed that the she was able to get me in sooner. After all, if they didn't think it was important enough for me to come in I figured it wasn't that serious. Evidently Meria didn't think the same way I did. The day of my appointment I left my house early enough to swing by the Diagnostic center to pick up my films to take to Dr. M. I was glad not to have to be going back there and I secretly hoped that I would not run into Dr. V. I didn't want to have her ask me what I had decided to do especially since I hadn't decided to do anything yet other than stall. I picked up my films and hurriedly made my way back down the same elevator where two weeks earlier I had misplaced my brain.

    I was fifteen minutes early for my appointment with Dr. M. I had completed my paperwork prior to arriving there. This was done with the help of a fax machine and a very efficient office manager. Who ever thought you could fill out paperwork for your doctor ahead of time? Was this a sign of progress? Perhaps I am in the right place after all.

    Dr. M walked into the room and I liked him instantly. He looked at my films all the while explaining everything to me. Then he looked at my sonogram results explaining those to me also. I was waiting for him to say something like 'I don't see anything really out of the ordinary, why don't we give it a couple months and see what happens.' I was waiting for him to say it but instead he said. 'I know you don't want to hear this but I think we really need to have a biopsy done. The sooner we get the results on this the sooner we can talk about viable options.' He wrote something on my chart, smiled and said that he would have a nurse schedule me for an appointment. We talked about his book and how I found him and why I wanted to come to see him and how I thought even if it were malignant that he could cure me with nutrition and supplements and that surgery would not be necessary. His smiled faded as he began to explain to me that there was no alternative if the biopsy returned a malignant result. Surgery was necessary. Chemo and radiation however might be optional depending upon the results. The best thing for us to do right now was to send me for blood tests and then for the biopsy. We could then go from there.

    Then he said, "You are young and in good health, with surgery and all the progress that we have made in understanding cancer you could live a long and productive life."

    What was that sound? That loud thud. It sounded like the first nail being pounded into my coffin.
Long and productive life? You don't say 'could live a long and productive life' to someone who 30 minutes earlier thought the worst was behind her. My heart was racing. I know that he could tell there was something wrong since the color was now gone from my face.

    My only question, "Do you mean that I could die from this?"

    That's when he started quoting statistics on how many women survive breast cancer and lead 'long and productive lives'. How we shouldn't jump the gun until we have all the test results back and can make decisions based on facts. How I should not be worried and how we needed to take it one step at a time.

    Let's just go get the blood tests done and schedule a biopsy. He would see me after the test results had been sent back to him. He smiled, shook my hand and asked me to visit the nurse at the front who would give me my appointment for my biopsy.

Chapter Three – Breakdown Behind The Wheel)

    I found my truck, slowly climbed inside of it and pulled the seatbelt across my chest. Ouch! The strap had landed directly on the lump that was now hot and very sore. It was if a hypnotist had snapped his fingers and I had come to. Except I wasn't waking refreshed.

I came back to earth feeling numb. What had just happened? Okay. The double mammogram. The sonogram. The talk about the possibility of it being malignant…doing the biopsy. No, wait. Not doing the biopsy.

    Okay, okay. I'm in control. In my truck. In the parking lot. I started up my truck and began the 45 minute drive home. I wish I could tell you what I thought about during the drive home but I can't. I don't remember, and frankly I am not sure that it even made sense.

    I do remember thinking What am I going to tell Scott? I usually had the answers or at least several options. I had neither. Fifteen minutes into my drive I began to cry. The crying didn't last long. I had never felt comfortable as a cryer. The crying abruptly ended and then I began to get mad. I don't have time for this. I don't have insurance. I don't have the right questions to ask. Whose fault is this anyway? What did I do to deserve this? For what must have been 20 minutes I ranted and raved out loud.

    By the end I was exhausted but had calmed down considerably. My optimism kicked in. Hey, it's probably nothing. Just because Dr. V had been doing this for 10 years doesn't mean that my lump was malignant. I bet that it would be gone in a week, two weeks tops.

    With that I concluded my breakdown and started working on the conversation that I would have with Scott. I grabbed my cell phone and called him. He was so concerned that I was okay.

"How was the mammogram? …. Two times! Wow, that must have been uncomfortable. …. How are you feeling now? …You know everything will be alright. It's probably nothing. Doctors have been wrong before. … I'll see you when you get home… Drive safe. Love you … Bye."

    That was it. I was hopeful. He was hopeful. We both figured that the doctor was going to be wrong and that everything would be alright.

It was still a long drive home.

    
 

Chapter Two – The Mammogram (Definitely NOT an E-Ticket Ride)

On the day of my mammogram I awoke with this feeling of dread. I didn't like taking time away from my work. I especially did not like taking time away from my work or anything else for that matter when it came to going through another mammogram. I was hoping that in the years between the last one I had experienced and this one that technology had indeed graduated out of the dark ages of cold metal and pressed flesh to a quick little laser light scan. I could hope.

I arrived at the Breast Diagnostic Center for my mammogram appointment 20 minutes early. I wanted to fill out my paperwork and be ready to go when they called me in. I completed my paperwork, managed to read through two entire magazines and several brochures that touted the various other procedures that I might want to have at a later date. I watched three other women come and go before me and walked around the lobby feigning interest in the artwork. I know nothing of art. I was just killing time. I thought to myself that I should have brought my laptop and done some work. I would have if I had known it would take this long. Next time I will have to remember. What am I saying? There isn't going to be a next time. I was reaching for a third magazine when they called my name and I jumped up as if they would give my spot away if I didn't respond quickly enough. Don't ask me why. I'm just programmed that way. I hate to make people wait for two seconds even if it is people who have made me wait for … 55 MINUTES! Already I was hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible and get back to my work.

The rest is kind of hazy. The mammography tech was very friendly. As a matter of fact she was from my area. I began thinking that I hope she doesn't tell anyone that I was in. I don't like anyone to know what I do in my spare time. Who are we kidding? I make sure that I don't have any spare time. To paraphrase Gordon Gekko in Wall Street, "Spare time is for wimps." I took my attention off Michael Douglas'character and placed my attention back on the mammography tech who was now explaining to me what was going to happen. I smiled and cracked some joke about the machine not having made much progress from several years back … or from the dark ages for that matter. Yes, it was still cold, and yes, it hurt like hell.

We had some difficulty getting situated. I had forgotten that this was the first time I would have experienced a mammogram since the addition of breast implants several years earlier. I was more concerned about not damaging them during the session than anything else. I would hate to have to get them redone because I sprung a leak. Hey, I don't know why those thoughts went through my mind I just know they did. Anything was better than concentrating on the mammogram. When it was all over the tech excused herself and asked me to keep my gown on. She wanted to make sure that all the pictures were clear before I started getting redressed.

While I waited for her to come back in and tell me to redress I was playing out in my mind how I wanted to spend the rest of my day. I had to stop and get gas. I needed to check the mail at the post office. I needed to make a few phone calls on the way to people who had left me voicemails. I could be pretty productive even away from my office.

The door opened and I could tell by the look on her face that it was not good news. "Sorry, Kim, the films are just not clear enough. We're going to have to take another set."

Another set? You mean I have to do this all over again? I didn't want to do it the first time. Why not just stick me in a microwave? I thought all these things but all I could say was, "Okay." I really need to stand up for myself. I should put that on my resolutions list. I know it wasn't her fault. But it wasn't my fault either. I hopped off the stool where I had been sitting and once again subjected myself to the tech, who by now was looking like the female version of the Marquis de Sade.

The second set came out clear and I redressed to wait for the doctor to come in and tell me that everything looked normal and that they would see me again in twelve months for my next mammogram. Fat chance. I had already made up my mind not to visit this theme park anymore. The lines were too long and the rides weren't fun at all. In my head I imagined women waiting in line at the mamma-rail with their cute paisley and floral examination gowns. After an hour waiting for the ride you could climb on board and then be whisked away towards a tunnel that was much too small in which you and everyone with you would be squeezed into one sixteenth of your size between two cold, metal plates all the while music played in the background repeating the words, 'breathe in and hold still, breathe in and hold still, breathe in and hold still." No thanks, I was not returning.

"Hi Kim, how are you today?" a voice entered into the room trailed by a small dark haired woman in a white lab coat holding my films.

"Uh, well , I guess that would be for you to tell me. What's next?"

"Let's take a look at your films," the doctor said as she slid them onto the light board that seemed to come out of no where. She pointed at what looked like my breast and then to a huge mass. My heart stopped. I didn't know what to say. She continued, "This is your breast implant." She must have seen the shocked look on my face. Oh, thank God! I had thought it was the lump! I almost started laughing until I noticed what she was now pointing at. A small dark mass just above my breast implant and the muscle that covered it. It seemed pretty small. But looking at it now it did look larger than what I had been feeling. Come to think of it. I now realized that it was a little sore. It must have been all the probing, pushing and stretching during the mammograms. I could actually feel its presence now without touching it.

I zoned out during part of her conversation, but managed to jump back in when she said "… so we'd like to do a sonogram and see where we are. If you'll get undressed I will be back in to do a sonogram and then we will go from there."

Go from there? This was taking way too much time. This lump has come and gone and it probably would have been gone by the end of the week, but now it's mad because of the stupid double take on the mammograms and will hang on a bit longer just to get back at me. Go from there? Where are we going? Where are we? That's what I was thinking but all I said was, "okay". Boy, do I need to get a back bone.

Five minutes later the doctor came back in, had me lie down on the table and place my right arm above and behind my head. She squeezed a little jelly (it was cold) on to my breast and then placed the sonogram instrument (colder) on top of it. Memories of my sonogram when I was pregnant with my now teenage son, Garrett, came flooding back. I think the jelly and the instrument were cold then to. Once again, not much progress in patient comfort had been made in 18 years.

Dr. V began talking about this and that and size and placement and things that went through my ears and above my head. All I wanted to know was what is it? Do I need to get rid of it? And when can I go back to work? She finished with her exam, placed a tissue on my chest to wipe off the sonogram gel and said these words.

"I think we should do a biopsy today to find out if it is malignant. I can schedule you in within the next thirty minutes. I do think it needs to be done today. Is there someone you would like to call to tell them you will be a little longer? I'll be back in fifteen minutes." The door shut behind her. Somewhere between the words 'malignant' and 'I'll be back in fifteen minutes' she explained the needle biopsy procedure to me. It sounded easy enough, the needle is inserted into the lump (tumor), some tissue is extracted, you get a bandage over the small incision and you go home and wait for the lab results.

Malignant? Thirty minutes? Today? Call someone? Yes, Regis, I'd like to phone a friend. And who is this friend? Oh, that would be my husband, Scott. He knows all about how things like this work … fixing things that are broken … making do with what you have … he knows me.

That's when it hit me. I really didn't want to call Scott. He was going to tell me to do what I thought was best. I could always get my way with him. He always trusted my judgment. Funny, I'm not sure I trusted my own judgment right now. I pulled my phone out of my purse and dialed his number.

"Hi, how'd it go? Are you on your way home?" His voice was so normal sounding. I was surprised that he could hear me over the loud sound of blood rushing through my ears.

"Well, she wants to do a Biopsy today and I don't think that's what I want to do. I really need to think this over and do some research. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, whatever you want. But … (I thought to myself, Scott, do not give me a 'but' right now. I really want to just walk out of here and forget everything that just happened) maybe you should go ahead and take care of it today."

"No, I think I need to think about this right now. Besides I know that it's going to be pretty expensive and we really don't have the money right now. Is that okay? I promise I will get some more information and call back to make an appointment."

"Okay. I'll see you at home."

I got dressed and was sitting on the table with my purse and car keys in hand by the time Dr. V walked back in. There was a look of surprise on her face. "You're not going to have the biopsy today?"

"No, not today. I would like to think about it and get back to you if that's okay?"

"Well, yes, but I do think that the sooner we get this done the better. I've been performing these for over ten years now and this does not look good. You really should have this done as soon as you can."

"Yes, I will. I just need to think about it a bit, that's all. I also need to think about how I am going to pay for it. I'm self employed and my insurance …." Blah, blah, blah. She wasn't listening to me. I wasn't listening to me. I just wanted to get out of there. She handed me her card. I stopped by the front desk to pay and sign some things and then I walked out into the hallway, took the elevator downstairs, walked out into the parking lot and tried to remember where I had parked. I couldn't remember what car I drove. I pushed the alarm button on my remote and a horn started blaring from the right side of the parking lot. I wondered if there was something on the remote that I could push that would sound off the alarm on my brain so that I could find it. It had turned off somewhere between Dr. V handing me her business card and me pushing the first floor button on the elevator.

I can't drive without a brain!

Intoduction to Cancer Angel (The Book)

I wish I could say that I started writing all of this down on the first day, but I didn't. I wish I could say that I handled everything just fine, but I didn't. I wish I could say that I have it all figured out, but I don't.

    Nevertheless, I do want to recount things as they happened for a lot of reasons. One is to get it off my chest, literally. The other is that you may be sitting there reading this book because you have been diagnosed with cancer and are in a panic and no one is alive that you can talk to that will understand exactly what you are going through. I understand now why they have those millions of different support groups.

    This is not the first book I have written. I have written others both on paper and in my mind. This one is a tough one though because unlike my others this one is about me, my feelings, my fears, my lack of control. My others were self help books for other people. This one is my own personal self help book for me.

    Where do I start? Hmmm. Well, let's start at the beginning. I have always been pretty healthy. Not marathon runner healthy but healthy. I wasn't a druggie, not even prescription. I ate fairly healthy, or so I thought. I exercised when I thought about it, which wasn't all that often, but I wasn't a slob. One thing that I was and still am is optimistic. At least on the outside. Most people you meet when all of this is over will tell you that I am or was the most optimistically energetic person they know or knew --- depending upon the outcome of all of this. See, I told you it was on the outside.

I will tell you that I noticed the lump, a small one, a year before I really NOTICED the lump. A little background is needed here. In 2004 I treated myself to breast implants. Honestly, after the initial pain and getting used to them I can tell you that at the time it was the best thing that I ever did to improve my looks and the way I felt about myself. That's neither here nor there. But, because of the breast implants (saline) I had been instructed by my doctor to massage them regularly. It was during one of the massages that I noticed the small lump.

    Years prior I had read or heard or been told that drinking a lot of caffeine was the cause of lumps within the breast. So I chalked the small lump that I had found up to the six or more cups of coffee I drank every day. I didn't drink the cheap stuff either. Starbucks was a regular hang out for me. And there were no fancy, diluted drinks in my order. It was always a tall, regular drip with no room for cream (bold). Anyway, the lump must have been extra caffeine hanging around my system. I went about my business and told myself that I would cut back on the java.

    As the months went by I noticed that the lump would come and go (maybe I just thought it did). Well, anyway, one day I noticed that it had gotten a little larger. I had put on a few pounds so I thought perhaps that was the reason. Was I feeding this lump? I told myself that I would need to start exercising more and not eat late at night.

    Okay, so now I have cut back on the coffee and started eating a little better. Not much cutting back on the coffee and not much eating better but hey, I still looked and felt okay.

    Each time I stepped out of the shower I felt for the lump. As the days passed I was hoping that each time I felt for it that it would have disappeared into thin air. After all, I was a pretty positive person. You could will these things into existence and you can will them out of existence too. I guess I wasn't 'willing' in the right way. You can't will something out of existence if you are constantly thinking about it. Can you?

 

And so my story begins ….

Chapter One – The Now You See It, Now You Don’t Lump)

The lump came and went several times after that. It became such a regular occurrence I decided to ignore it all together. It didn't seem to grow any so why worry about it? I had heard from other women that if it moved around and wasn't painful that it was probably just a cyst brought on by stress and caffeine. The qualifications of stress and caffeine made me a prime target for these cysts so I went about my daily routine. After all, who isn't stressed? Most everyone I knew couldn't make it through the day with at least some form of caffeine. At least I didn't add sugar and cream to mine.

I thought about going for a mammogram just to make sure that I had no cause for concern, but those things hurt and weren't covered by the kind of insurance I could get as a self employed business owner. I recalled the last mammogram I had two years prior was not only painful but reminded me of a modern form of torture. Surely we have come farther along in technology not to have to squeeze painfully stretched body parts between two plates of cold metal while holding our breaths and allowing a machine using radioactive material to take a fuzzy picture. So for right now I ignored the 'now you see it now you don't lump' until January. In January, shortly after all of the holiday decorations had been put up and I began working on achieving my carefully thought out goals for the year I remembered that it was this time the year prior that I had thought of adding 'regular self breast exams' to my resolutions for that year. I had not done it this year either. I reached for the spot where the lump had been a year ago and felt it again. This time it was no longer the size of a small pimple. It had grown. The lump was about the size of a pea. Should I be concerned? Probably not. It would probably be gone by the end of the week. I'll just cut back on the caffeine. That should do it.

I forgot about the lump until a week later when I felt for the lump again and it was still there. Okay, maybe I had cheated a bit on the coffee. I'll give it another week and see what happens. Besides, I didn't have time to make time for an appointment…or was that true? I could make time to call and make an appointment. I just didn't have time to go to the appointment. Especially since it seems that you never get in at your designated appointment time and I don't like sitting out in a waiting room filled with sick people. I'll make the appointment and then cancel when the lump goes away.

I called up a doctor friend of mine who I knew would get me in as quickly as possible. Meria had always been one of my favorite doctors. She didn't even look like a doctor. She was pretty, petite and really loved what she did. I felt that going to a female doctor would give me a one up on this lump thing. She'd probably seen it a hundred times and knew exactly what caused it and how to get rid of it for good. I knew that Meria would see me and tell me something like, "It's nothing to be concerned about. Women get these all the time, especially busy women. Drink more water and cut back on your coffee. That should do it." I made my appointment for the next week and looked forward to being able to cancel it when the time came and the lump once again disappeared.

The week passed. The lump remained and I made my way to my appointment with Meria. After filling out the necessary paperwork and flipping through a couple of magazines I was called in. I hadn't seen Meria in a while so we made small talk about the weather, her practice and everything else besides my lump until she asked me to show it to her. I watched her face as she felt the lump with her fingers on both sides moving it slightly from left to right and up and down. In what seemed like less than a minute we were finished with the exam. Meria said, "It's probably nothing to be concerned about, but I would like for you to have a mammogram just to be on the safe side. Let's get you scheduled for one as quickly as possible so that you can put this behind you." I agreed to the mammogram and scheduled it for January 31st in Southlake, a nearby town.