Natalie's Journey to a Better Quality of Life

Hi, my name is Natalie Alegria, and I’m fundraising to risk reduce my chance of breast cancer. Never in a million years did I see myself writing a go fund me for myself; however, the day has come, and it is costly. As some of you may know, I was supposed to have a Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy with Reconstruction in March 2023. Fast forward a few months, and here I am at the end of July 2023 with no surgery. We are all here on borrowed time, and I want to buy as much time as possible.

I can’t put into words or even wrap my head around the emotions I’ve endured these past few months. Emotions soon took over my body to the point where I ended up in the hospital due to my body going haywire from all the stress levels. Let me also say after reading this go fund me, you will realize my life has been nothing but stress….

Before I get into why this surgery, cost, and much-needed help, I would like to explain my side of the story for the past 6 years, my life completely changed in 2016 when my brother was diagnosed with grade 4 brain cancer.

In 2016, I was turning 15 years old. The defining year that turns a girl into a woman or the year that turns a child into a caretaker. Waking up one morning to your life being thrown completely upside down. At this age, most teens are picking out which club to join, which classes to choose, or what outfit to wear to school. Me? I was pacing the hospital halls, wondering when my brother would wake up from his 9-hour brain surgery. This was the day that changed my life forever.

Around 10 am, I was pulled from my class, told I would be picked up by a family friend, and had to come down to the school office right away. My heart instantly dropped; I was confused. As I walked into the office, every administrator looked at me with their eyes full of tears. Everyone knew what was happening except me, we quickly drove to the hospital, and there my brother was surrounded by close friends and my family. Before I walked into the room, I was told that Chris needed emergency brain surgery and that he had a brain tumor. I felt pins and needles course through my body, and tears poured out of my eyes like my soul had been ripped out of me. Chris then looked at me and said he didn’t know whether he would survive this but that he loved me. No tears were allowed; Chris didn’t want his last possible moments to be surrounded by crying people. Within 10 minutes after my arrival, Chris was wheeled out to surgery. Not knowing if our recent goodbye would be our last.

9 hours, 9 hours of pacing, bargaining, crying, worrying, and just hoping Chris would make it. Those 9 hours truly felt like an eternity, every second felt like an hour, and every minute felt like a day. I was told if Chris did survive, he would be completely disabled. He would have to learn how to walk, talk, eat, everything all over again. The doctors came to get us and stated surgery was over, they removed the tumor, but we wouldn’t know his condition until he woke up. Two people at a time were allowed into the recovery room, and my mom and I sprinted to see him. As soon as his eyes opened, he turned his head and said I love you, Mom.

This was just the beginning; Chris then had radiation and chemo following. During this time of treatment, he was taken to MD Anderson in Texas for the best chance of survival. I could barely see my brother, had to balance school and my beloved softball. I nearly lost my brother multiple times through his fight, but nothing can stop his determination and perseverance. Once Chris rang the bell that he was done with chemo, the same week, my father Boris was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung cancer that metastasized all over his body from brain to bone. Cancer ate away at Boris’s Spine, hips, brain, and other vital organs.

Hearing this news, I naturally dropped into the fetal position and cried. However, I knew I had to keep pushing not only for myself but for my family. I got up and asked what’s next? My father was not even given 3 months to live. During this time, I pretty much said goodbye to school, goodbye friends; this is where my new life began. I became a caretaker. Skipping class? Wow, so fun! Until it’s to take your dad to treatment, driving on Miami infrastructure, all with a permit while watching him wither away every breath he took.

My dad and I were two peas in a pod. We spent every moment together growing up; I couldn’t fathom losing him. It was not an option. Boris participated in a clinical study drug that saved his life. He became stable, and I was finally able to breathe. Shortly after, my mother was diagnosed with stage 3 Medullary Thyroid Cancer. Of course, thyroid cancer that has no treatment or cure.

This is where you grab a box of tissues and strap in for the emotional turmoil. Once my mom was diagnosed, I was face to face with my biggest fear, becoming an orphan. I started to become numb at this point; life didn’t feel real. Every day was a fight with no flight; I learned to bottle my emotions and keep pushing.

With my mom being diagnosed, her options for treatment were surgery. Isabelle had her thyroid removed and total left lymph node neck resection. As the caretaker, I was the one to drain her sites, stay in the hospital with her, and do everything possible to ensure she would be okay. Let’s just say being 16 years old and draining blood from your mom's neck is not your average homework assignment.

Fast forward to 2020, my family is alive and what we call stable. Not only had the pandemic begun, but my mother was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ breast cancer. I know what you’re probably thinking, where are the cameras, and whose bad joke is this? Isabelle underwent a double mastectomy and later had reconstruction. Luckily, we were able to catch the breast cancer before it spread.

During these years, I had genetic testing, which proved positive for having the Chek 2 cancer gene, which increases my risk of certain cancers, including breast. I have always been very proactive and cautious regarding my health. I do my monthly examinations and screening when needed.

November 9th, 2022 The night it all changes. While performing monthly routine breast exams, I found an abnormality on my left breast. At this moment, I didn’t know whether to cry, throw up, or scream. I saw dimpling of the areolar, pulling of the nipple, and discoloration at the 6 o’clock region. The discoloration began as a small dot that progressed rapidly; within 3 weeks, the discoloration grew to about the size of a leaf. Quickly following, I had an ultrasound, mammogram, then MRI. 2 areas of concern were found in my left breast, one being my nipple and the other deep into my breast tissue. My right nipple also lit up on the MRI as well. Lots of tears were shed.

I saw multiple specialists which I was told, “Put a warm compress,” “Bad things don’t go away themselves,” and compare my monthly screenings to dental cleanings; told me I couldn’t then could get a biopsy, say my studies were from 2001 (the year I was born). Told, “Make sure you don’t get the surgery by a doctor in Hialeah” My age is holding me back, and I shouldn’t have screenings (even though I have had lesions).

I was scheduled for a prophylactic double mastectomy with reconstruction on March 23, 2023. During this time, I was at the end of my nursing semester and studied hard to ensure I passed all my classes. I knew that this would set my school back, so I made sure to pass all my classes so I wouldn’t be held back more. As I stayed up studying all night with tears in my eyes, what kept me pushing was knowing I would have the chance to have one less worry. This surgery would give me a new life and a chance to be healthier.

The week of surgery, my insurance told me that not to worry and the surgery will be covered, but my claim was still pending. I was marked up and ready to go the night before my surgery. The hospital called to inform me I would not be proceeding with surgery. The insurance company had verbally denied my surgery. Sorry for my vulgarity, but fucked up, right? Don’t worry; there’s more…

Every day the following month, my mom and I called and emailed the insurance company and hospital. My claim was not officially denied until May 2023. Here are some points I would like you to keep in mind

-I had to drop out of school till what I thought was July but had to be pushed back to October. Why? I had to reapply to school in April and still didn’t know the action plan.

-I originally had a biopsy scheduled for the week before surgery, which I canceled because it was unnecessary since I was scheduled for surgery.

-My brother was then hospitalized for uncontrollable seizures in May 2023. The week that my new biopsy was scheduled.

-I have a new lesion in my sternum, which I’ve had to have a bone scan and will pursue further.

The insurance company stated because my family history of breast cancer isn’t close enough (my mother doesn’t have enough relatives, but the women with the gene have all had breast cancer), my mutation isn’t BRCA (there is not enough information on my mutation), and because I am not diagnosed with cancer right now, they do not see a reason to fund my surgery. Let’s give a round of applause to the American Healthcare System for denying proactive treatment. Apparently, MRIs and Mammograms every 6 months for the rest of my life are better than funding surgery, but hey, whose counting all the radiation my body is absorbing? Not to mention the mental toll of wondering every 6 months if there are any new growths.

As you can see, this has been a nonstop battle; from May to July 27, 2023, I am finally receiving the out-of-pocket cost for surgery. I have been dealt a difficult life and I want to be proactive and risk reduce my chances of having cancer later on. I have seen firsthand how cancer takes your world, chews it up, and spits it out. Not only the physical aspect but the emotional side (which is a whole new realm). The surgery cost is too much to afford; I’m looking at 40K. Every donation and share is greatly appreciated. I’m not one to ask for help, but I know which battles I can fight alone, and this is not one of them. I hope to gain a better quality of life, one where I don’t have to worry about my boobs trying to kill me.