Our little sister was diagnosed with breast cancer late this fall. Amy has provided a powerful narrative of her cancer journey below that gives a glimpse into how this all began. We hope you will see what we know to be true–that our sister puts so much good and positive energy into this world–whether it is helping her students through their emotional growth journeys, saving honey bees, living sustainably and with intention, or caring for her friends and family with unending compassion and love. Of course, we do not know all of the twists and turns ahead on Amy’s cancer journey, but, here we begin with a little hope that this campaign will reflect some of Amy’s positive energy right back to her. These funds will help with the medical and associated costs with Amy’s cancer journey, which will be a difficult burden compounded by unpaid time off from work for Amy and Keaton. Many of you have asked how you can help and want to contribute, so we started this page. Amy does have a Venmo too, if you prefer that method.  Thanks in advance for supporting our little sister in kicking breast cancer’s butt! With much love, Amy’s siblings (Howard, Rachel & David).

#beecancerfree
 

 

The story:

It was summertime on the Island. I was in the shower when I noticed a small lump in my left breast. I felt around to be sure it was, in fact, noticeable and proceeded to convince myself it was probably a knot in my muscle… or at least nothing to become stressed about. As summer ended, the lump was still there and felt more defined, and more rigid. I decided to make an appointment to have it checked out to ensure it was normal and nothing to cause worry. At the appointment, my doctor confirmed a large, irregular mass about 3.5 cm wide, and explained that a mammogram and ultrasound would be required for further imaging. At age 33, mammograms were not something I was familiar with, as they are not usually necessary. But, there I was getting my first one, and sure enough there was a black mass that would now need a biopsy. I knew that the need for a biopsy was not a good sign, but I was grateful at the prospect that it could give me peace of mind. Let’s not worry until there is something to worry about, I was told. Within days, on October 29th, the results showed up in my MyChart app: I am positive for HER2+ cancer. The cancer began in the milk ducts and developed into the growing tumor inside me.

 

I was dressed as a heart-eyed emoji at work to celebrate Halloween with my Social-Emotional Learning team when I read the results. I felt the world collapse around me and began sobbing. The doctor would later call to confirm. How could it even be possible? I stopped eating meat when I was in the 5th grade. I grow and cook my own organic food. I rely on plants and herbs to support my well-being. I run half marathons. I am only 33 years old. Soon, I would have a cascade of appointments set up for the next 6-8 months of chemotherapy, blood work, genetic testing, and doctor’s visits. All of this leading up to surgery and more post-op chemo/immunotherapy. The new reality is that I would be facing the loss of my curls, appetite, and love of food, the loss of my breasts, weight gain, surgeries, and the pain and discomforts of going through chemo.

 

Since my diagnosis, I have felt surrounded by love. I feel supported and uplifted through the well-wishes, prayers, good vibes, and thoughtful gifts from those around me-near and far. It has been a blessing to feel such love and generosity from those in my circles, but the financial and emotional burdens are still heavy. As an educator and social-emotional learning specialist working in a middle school, I will need to continue to take time off for appointments, chemo, and healing. My husband is a full-time gardener who maintains 12 gardens on Galveston Island, managing staff and volunteers and working a physically demanding 50+ hours/week growing food for after-school programs and other community gardens that feed families in need.

 

As far as cancer goes, mine is still a best-case scenario, and I’ve managed to put on my positive pants. I have great doctors. I have you. I am young. I am strong. I will fight it, and I will beat it. F!%* Cancer!

 

Positivity on Chemo Day #1