- K
August 4th, 2018 was a horrible date not only for what happened but also as the marker beginning the spiral of catastrophes that has hit my family. Now, my family is HUGE: my parents each had three children and after they got married they had five more children together; a total of two boys and nine girls. At some point that evening, we all got a call from a sibling telling us our dad had suddenly and unexpectedly died. Grief can't be explained or understood until it's been felt, it just can't.
Five short months later, Tiffany shared with the rest of the sisters that she had found a lump. This sparked a conversation about the similar symptoms between Tiffany and Catherine. After fighting with insurance to approve the necessary testing the two sisters were diagnosed with in a week of each other with the same exact super rare, super aggressive breast cancer: triple negative Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC). By then the family chat that had exploded over our dad's passing, exploded over this news. Again, grief can't be explained and how each of us deals with it is different. We all immediately started researching, what is IBC, is it treatable, what is treatment, what is triple negative, what resources are available, what does screening look like? So many questions; so many terrifying bits and pieces of news to digest and somehow wrap our heads around.
We didn't know much about cancer, but boy did we learn! Some of the facts we learned: IBC is rare with less than 200,000 cases in the US per year; IBC makes up only 1-5% of all breast cancers; it is a breast skin cancer and is typically misdiagnosed until stage three when it starts taking over the breast tissue; does not have a good success rate; it is so aggressive it is hard to treat; patient survival began 5 years ago and need weekly chemo pills. Ports are surgically inserted plastic disks the size of a quarter so chemo doesn't destroy blood veins. Chemo takes HOURS. Radiation continues to cook for a few weeks after treatments are finished. I can't explain the roller coaster of emotions each fact triggered.
Catherine was diagnosed at stage four however her treatment plan and survival rate were indeterminable because her pregnancy did not allow her to do the MRI necessary to see where the cancer had spread. Tiffany was diagnosed as stage three; if chemo, surgery and radiation were successful her survival rate was 70%.
The family drew closer together through our family chat; we laughed, cried, shared gallows humor, encouraged, prayed, loved, argued, and grieved together. You might think with such unpredictable cases occurring we would be the perfect family but we are human, we think, express ourselves, show/feel love, and grieve differently.
It has almost been a year.
Tiffany's family, consisting of her husband and three children, learned how to juggle the chemo sessions, work, school and new lifestyle. She completed her chemo treatments, successfully recovered from a double mastectomy (remember this is a breast skin cancer which means they had to take even her skin), then radiation. Her progress is amazing.
Catherine's journey has been incredibly difficult and fraught with unique challenges and has drastically changed her life. She went on disability, her husband used whatever he could to take time off to take her to doctor appointments, and getting their two boys to and from school was also a challenge. She was pregnant with her third child when diagnosed and scans revealed an also dangerous pregnancy. MRIs could not be conducted to see the full extent of the cancer throughout her body however special scans of the baby revealed cancer on her pelvic bones and spine as well as the placenta being in the wrong place and growing outside of the uterus. She wasn't allowed to take pain killers for the chemo pain or the port surgery pain; she wasn't allowed to throw up because it risked pulling the placenta. Strange, and scary but did you know pregnant women can do chemo? Apparently it doesn't go through to the baby and is considered safe. Catherine was determined to keep her baby despite the risks it caused to her own health; spoil alert little baby Micah is so precious!
A week before the scheduled C-Section, Catherine's water broke and we all anxiously checked in every few hours on their status. Micah was born healthy, and a few hours later we learned the placenta had grown in a direction that had not needed organ reconstruction and the doctors had managed to keep her thin blood in her body! They both LIVED!!!
A week after birthing, she was back to chemo treatments and started getting those scans done. Stage Four-confirmed: cancer covering her spine, pelvic bones but thankfully not in/on any organs; they also found brittle bones and degenerative bone disease. Later a conversation with her doctor about memory loss and foggy thinking lead to a brain scan which revealed more awful news: 7 cancer masses in her brain. The largest mass was 3mm. Chemo was put on pause again, and Catherine had daily whole head radiation for two weeks.
Between radiation finishing and waiting for the MRI to see how successful radiation was, her appendix burst. She spent weeks in the hospital, fought to have her appendix removed instead of the drain they put in. Recovery was painful and being in the hospital was stressful for her family who love and missed her. Rob ran out of time he could take off from and had to return to work. Family members took turns staying with Catherine and her family supporting them by cooking, cleaning, feeding, driving, entertaining, talking and anything else we could do to make life just a little less stressful. Visits to the hospital were exciting and scary for the children but gave Catherine the chance to squeeze her family for a few minutes.
Catherine now expects to hear horrible news at every doctor appointment, each time I think what more could they tell her.. and yet there is always something worse to add. Doctors have told her the plan is to be able to maintain and keep it from spreading by weekly chemo sessions. The last-est MRI showed the masses in her head shrunk by 1mm (yay!) but spread. Cancer has grown outside of the brain as well as on
her ovaries. Catherine had a needle injected in her spine to withdraw spinal fluid to test for cancer. It came back positive.
The faith and positive outlook from Catherine is inspiring specially with my own fears of what bad news will be next... what if the worse case happens, what does this mean for her family, what does it mean for her boys, and suddenly all the "what if's" seem endless.
Meanwhile, disability has ended and medical bills are piling up. Through out this last year, those who have heard Catherine's story have asked how they could help, or to let them know if there was anything they could do. Please join my family in easing Catherine's pain by a donation of any size, words of encouragement and/or prayers.
Here are some pictures of Catherine, and her family:
Five short months later, Tiffany shared with the rest of the sisters that she had found a lump. This sparked a conversation about the similar symptoms between Tiffany and Catherine. After fighting with insurance to approve the necessary testing the two sisters were diagnosed with in a week of each other with the same exact super rare, super aggressive breast cancer: triple negative Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC). By then the family chat that had exploded over our dad's passing, exploded over this news. Again, grief can't be explained and how each of us deals with it is different. We all immediately started researching, what is IBC, is it treatable, what is treatment, what is triple negative, what resources are available, what does screening look like? So many questions; so many terrifying bits and pieces of news to digest and somehow wrap our heads around.
We didn't know much about cancer, but boy did we learn! Some of the facts we learned: IBC is rare with less than 200,000 cases in the US per year; IBC makes up only 1-5% of all breast cancers; it is a breast skin cancer and is typically misdiagnosed until stage three when it starts taking over the breast tissue; does not have a good success rate; it is so aggressive it is hard to treat; patient survival began 5 years ago and need weekly chemo pills. Ports are surgically inserted plastic disks the size of a quarter so chemo doesn't destroy blood veins. Chemo takes HOURS. Radiation continues to cook for a few weeks after treatments are finished. I can't explain the roller coaster of emotions each fact triggered.
Catherine was diagnosed at stage four however her treatment plan and survival rate were indeterminable because her pregnancy did not allow her to do the MRI necessary to see where the cancer had spread. Tiffany was diagnosed as stage three; if chemo, surgery and radiation were successful her survival rate was 70%.
The family drew closer together through our family chat; we laughed, cried, shared gallows humor, encouraged, prayed, loved, argued, and grieved together. You might think with such unpredictable cases occurring we would be the perfect family but we are human, we think, express ourselves, show/feel love, and grieve differently.
It has almost been a year.
Tiffany's family, consisting of her husband and three children, learned how to juggle the chemo sessions, work, school and new lifestyle. She completed her chemo treatments, successfully recovered from a double mastectomy (remember this is a breast skin cancer which means they had to take even her skin), then radiation. Her progress is amazing.
Catherine's journey has been incredibly difficult and fraught with unique challenges and has drastically changed her life. She went on disability, her husband used whatever he could to take time off to take her to doctor appointments, and getting their two boys to and from school was also a challenge. She was pregnant with her third child when diagnosed and scans revealed an also dangerous pregnancy. MRIs could not be conducted to see the full extent of the cancer throughout her body however special scans of the baby revealed cancer on her pelvic bones and spine as well as the placenta being in the wrong place and growing outside of the uterus. She wasn't allowed to take pain killers for the chemo pain or the port surgery pain; she wasn't allowed to throw up because it risked pulling the placenta. Strange, and scary but did you know pregnant women can do chemo? Apparently it doesn't go through to the baby and is considered safe. Catherine was determined to keep her baby despite the risks it caused to her own health; spoil alert little baby Micah is so precious!
A week before the scheduled C-Section, Catherine's water broke and we all anxiously checked in every few hours on their status. Micah was born healthy, and a few hours later we learned the placenta had grown in a direction that had not needed organ reconstruction and the doctors had managed to keep her thin blood in her body! They both LIVED!!!
A week after birthing, she was back to chemo treatments and started getting those scans done. Stage Four-confirmed: cancer covering her spine, pelvic bones but thankfully not in/on any organs; they also found brittle bones and degenerative bone disease. Later a conversation with her doctor about memory loss and foggy thinking lead to a brain scan which revealed more awful news: 7 cancer masses in her brain. The largest mass was 3mm. Chemo was put on pause again, and Catherine had daily whole head radiation for two weeks.
Between radiation finishing and waiting for the MRI to see how successful radiation was, her appendix burst. She spent weeks in the hospital, fought to have her appendix removed instead of the drain they put in. Recovery was painful and being in the hospital was stressful for her family who love and missed her. Rob ran out of time he could take off from and had to return to work. Family members took turns staying with Catherine and her family supporting them by cooking, cleaning, feeding, driving, entertaining, talking and anything else we could do to make life just a little less stressful. Visits to the hospital were exciting and scary for the children but gave Catherine the chance to squeeze her family for a few minutes.
Catherine now expects to hear horrible news at every doctor appointment, each time I think what more could they tell her.. and yet there is always something worse to add. Doctors have told her the plan is to be able to maintain and keep it from spreading by weekly chemo sessions. The last-est MRI showed the masses in her head shrunk by 1mm (yay!) but spread. Cancer has grown outside of the brain as well as on
her ovaries. Catherine had a needle injected in her spine to withdraw spinal fluid to test for cancer. It came back positive.
The faith and positive outlook from Catherine is inspiring specially with my own fears of what bad news will be next... what if the worse case happens, what does this mean for her family, what does it mean for her boys, and suddenly all the "what if's" seem endless.
Meanwhile, disability has ended and medical bills are piling up. Through out this last year, those who have heard Catherine's story have asked how they could help, or to let them know if there was anything they could do. Please join my family in easing Catherine's pain by a donation of any size, words of encouragement and/or prayers.
Here are some pictures of Catherine, and her family: