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My mom is a wonderful, funny, strong woman. She is married to Thomas and has three children, me (22), Erik (8) and Alison (5). She turned 43 years old on June 6th, and that same day she was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer — one of the rarest and aggressive forms of breast cancer.
Initial Diagnosis
Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) is the latest diagnosis our family heard, but we’ve been on this journey since March 6th, when the doctors initially found the cancerous cell conglomeration in her right breast. The “tumor” itself hadn’t formed yet, and the doctors were positive in the treatment plan — surgery (double or single mastectomy, her choice) and chemo to kill the rest of the cancer cells that might have spread.
We were all upset, but kept our head high, as this might have been the best case scenario for someone who was diagnosed with early stages of Invasive Breast Cancer.
Knowing that chemo was in the future, in late March my mom went into her first surgery to insert a small receptor into her right breast for future chemo appointments. The biopsy needed to diagnose the cancer caused her pain, which her doctors said was a normal process of healing. But it crescendoed after the surgery. Her right armpit became swollen, her right side started to hurt, and her right arm lost some mobility. More so, her right breast started to show deformations.
Of course, she went to her surgeon to make sure she was okay and to see if she needed more tests. After her insisting, the surgeon ordered an ultrasound (in April), which showed abnormalities around the initial cancer, as well as on the inside of the skin, which the doctor interpreted as blood clots.
Her double mastectomy was scheduled for May 22nd — two and a half months after the initial diagnosis. Her surgeon assured her that even though what she was feeling wasn’t necessarily “normal,” she was going to be fine soon after the mastectomy.
IBC
The mastectomy didn’t go well.
I received a text from my stepfather that night saying the surgery had to be stopped due to excessive bleeding. A week after the surgery, my mom went for a checkup to remove the 25 stitches on her breast. After speaking with the surgeon (only about three months after the initial "stage 0" diagnosis), the cancer had spread to my mom's lymph nodes and skin and was now either stage III or IV, metastatic — one of the worst-case scenarios.
But mom already suspected that the diagnosis was going to change to Inflammatory Breast Cancer.
IBC is the rarest form of breast cancer, accounting for only 1 to 5 percent of all breast cancers in the U.S. IBC is incredibly aggressive and progresses quickly. You can read more about it at https://www.cancer.gov/types/breast/ibc-fact-sheet
So… what took so long?
Was the question every nurse asked me after I started calling breast cancer centers in Washington D.C. and Chicago after the failed mastectomy.
My mom lives in Mountain Home, Arkansas (a tiny rural town in north central Arkansas) with a hospital that serves the entire county, which means the two oncologists on staff are incredibly busy, but also might not be as experienced with this rare cancer type as other specialized cancer centers.
After the cancer was confirmed as IBC, our family agreed to seek a second opinion at MD Anderson in Houston, TX. The plan of care for IBC typically is chemo, surgery, then radiation, but we will know more after our consultation appointment on June 18th.
We are saving money and helping as much as possible with her care, but the purpose of this campaign is to help my mom with:
1. The bills from her early misdiagnosis and the first two unnecessary surgeries which only prolonged her treatment journey.
2. Any upcoming bills, including chemo therapy and the upcoming trip to Houston.
3. Child care for my two young siblings.
4. A second opinion trip to MD Anderson, including hotel stay and gas.
Because of the surgeries and the pain, my mom had to stop working at her local grocery store where she was a cake decorator. She is lucky to have an incredibly supportive staff that will allow her to come into work when she is able, but she will be off for most of the cancer journey.
With the kids out of school, the plan was to be a "stay at home" mom for the summer to save on day care, but with upcoming trips and hospital visits, outside day care will be a necessity at times.
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I will update this campaign as we find out more about mom’s plan of care in Houston, but for now please consider donating and/or sharing this page. Every little bit helps. Thank you!
Initial Diagnosis
Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) is the latest diagnosis our family heard, but we’ve been on this journey since March 6th, when the doctors initially found the cancerous cell conglomeration in her right breast. The “tumor” itself hadn’t formed yet, and the doctors were positive in the treatment plan — surgery (double or single mastectomy, her choice) and chemo to kill the rest of the cancer cells that might have spread.
We were all upset, but kept our head high, as this might have been the best case scenario for someone who was diagnosed with early stages of Invasive Breast Cancer.
Knowing that chemo was in the future, in late March my mom went into her first surgery to insert a small receptor into her right breast for future chemo appointments. The biopsy needed to diagnose the cancer caused her pain, which her doctors said was a normal process of healing. But it crescendoed after the surgery. Her right armpit became swollen, her right side started to hurt, and her right arm lost some mobility. More so, her right breast started to show deformations.
Of course, she went to her surgeon to make sure she was okay and to see if she needed more tests. After her insisting, the surgeon ordered an ultrasound (in April), which showed abnormalities around the initial cancer, as well as on the inside of the skin, which the doctor interpreted as blood clots.
Her double mastectomy was scheduled for May 22nd — two and a half months after the initial diagnosis. Her surgeon assured her that even though what she was feeling wasn’t necessarily “normal,” she was going to be fine soon after the mastectomy.
IBC
The mastectomy didn’t go well.
I received a text from my stepfather that night saying the surgery had to be stopped due to excessive bleeding. A week after the surgery, my mom went for a checkup to remove the 25 stitches on her breast. After speaking with the surgeon (only about three months after the initial "stage 0" diagnosis), the cancer had spread to my mom's lymph nodes and skin and was now either stage III or IV, metastatic — one of the worst-case scenarios.
But mom already suspected that the diagnosis was going to change to Inflammatory Breast Cancer.
IBC is the rarest form of breast cancer, accounting for only 1 to 5 percent of all breast cancers in the U.S. IBC is incredibly aggressive and progresses quickly. You can read more about it at https://www.cancer.gov/types/breast/ibc-fact-sheet
So… what took so long?
Was the question every nurse asked me after I started calling breast cancer centers in Washington D.C. and Chicago after the failed mastectomy.
My mom lives in Mountain Home, Arkansas (a tiny rural town in north central Arkansas) with a hospital that serves the entire county, which means the two oncologists on staff are incredibly busy, but also might not be as experienced with this rare cancer type as other specialized cancer centers.
After the cancer was confirmed as IBC, our family agreed to seek a second opinion at MD Anderson in Houston, TX. The plan of care for IBC typically is chemo, surgery, then radiation, but we will know more after our consultation appointment on June 18th.
We are saving money and helping as much as possible with her care, but the purpose of this campaign is to help my mom with:
1. The bills from her early misdiagnosis and the first two unnecessary surgeries which only prolonged her treatment journey.
2. Any upcoming bills, including chemo therapy and the upcoming trip to Houston.
3. Child care for my two young siblings.
4. A second opinion trip to MD Anderson, including hotel stay and gas.
Because of the surgeries and the pain, my mom had to stop working at her local grocery store where she was a cake decorator. She is lucky to have an incredibly supportive staff that will allow her to come into work when she is able, but she will be off for most of the cancer journey.
With the kids out of school, the plan was to be a "stay at home" mom for the summer to save on day care, but with upcoming trips and hospital visits, outside day care will be a necessity at times.
----I will update this campaign as we find out more about mom’s plan of care in Houston, but for now please consider donating and/or sharing this page. Every little bit helps. Thank you!