My cancer story begins in August of 2023. I was 36 years old and my husband and I were going through IVF. So when I woke up one morning with a lump in my breast, I thought it was just a side effect of the hormones. However, over the next few days, the lump got steadily bigger, so I called my doctor and went in to get it checked out -- if you're reading this, please never wait if something weird comes up in your body, always get it checked by your doctor right away! I was incredibly thankful the concerned staff worked so hard to fit me in for diagnostic imaging the very next day, which showed that this was cancer, and it was already in at least one lymph node. Things seemed to just keep getting worse over the next couple of weeks as biopsy results revealed that it was Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC) and very aggressive. On my first CT scan, they found a single, small lesion in my liver that we biopsied to find that it was the same TNBC. I was already metastatic, Stage IV, at the time of my diagnosis. Now 37 years old (my birthday is in August), my prognosis quickly changed from a tough year with intense chemotherapy and surgery ending in a cure (expected if the cancer was only in the breast and lymph nodes) to constant chemotherapy and likely only a year or two to live, maybe three years if I was lucky. 

As a Biomedical Engineer, I went into research mode and found all the publications I could about TNBC. What I found was about either local and regional or metastatic cancers, but I was what is called Oligo-metastatic, meaning only 1-2 small metastatic lesions in just one site, and there is little to no research specifically about these cases. This has led to widely differing opinions among oncologists about whether the oligo-metastatic people should be treated as if they are widely metastatic, and thus had little hope for a cure, or could be considered curable. I thought that I should at least try for the curable option as it was only one very small metastatic lesion and I'm young and otherwise healthy. With support from my UW care team, I got a second opinion from Mayo Clinic and the doctor there agreed that while it was a very long shot, it was not unreasonable for me to try to pursue curative treatment. I also asked for a Palliative Care Consult at UW and am glad to have these providers on my team. They have helped to ease my anxiety, address how important quality of life is to me, and remind me to find my daily balance of acknowledging the seriousness of what I am going through and still enjoying the good things in my life at the same time.

Within two weeks of diagnosis, I started on chemotherapy and immunotherapy medications, receiving a treatment every single week. I am so thankful for the support of my family and friends, including my dogs and cats. But sometimes it’s hard not to just freak out. So a friend who had been battling breast cancer for years suggested just taking things one day at a time. While it seems cliché, that was the best advice I’ve received. I learned to appreciate every hug, smile, purr, tail wag, and all the good things I have around me right now. I use these things to keep myself strong to endure the treatments that I hope could save my life for as long as possible.

While I had lost the hair on my head after just a few weeks of treatment, after a few months, I also lost my eyebrows and eyelashes. Now when I looked in the mirror, all I could see was a sickly cancer patient, which bummed me out because that wasn’t how I felt. I still felt strong and well - who was this person looking at me in the mirror? I couldn’t look at myself without makeup. Around this time, I met another cancer patient who had survived ovarian cancer twice and was just finishing treatment for colon cancer. I admired her for her survivorship and she didn’t hesitate for a moment to throw back at me that I’m a survivor too. I tried to argue that I’m a patient, but she said no, from the second you hear the diagnosis that you have cancer, every second you go on living, you are a survivor. And I believe her. She was right. She reiterated how strong and resilient I can be and reminded me even more to not just go live each day but to live it to the fullest. And I still do.

I believe in thinking outside of the box with logic and advocating for oneself, so when my CT scans showed the cancer in my liver stabilizing, not continuing to shrink and go away, I asked my doctor, how do we actually get rid of it, what else can we do? Thank you to my oncologist, she said we could talk to Interventional Radiology about removing the liver lesion through ablation. While it's not at all the usual course of action and there are no studies that could show it would increase odds of survival, the team considered me and thought that it was a good fit. I was excited to receive microwave ablation to my liver in February 2024. The procedure went well, and my team was pleased and confident that the cancer in my liver was cleared with complete margins. I continued on with chemo and immunotherapies, the liver lesion didn’t return, and the breast mass continued to get smaller. Finally, some real progress, and I wasn’t appearing metastatic anymore!

The best news so far came with my CT scan in July 2024. My liver was still clear from cancer and the breast mass could not be seen. MRI is even more sensitive for breast cancer imaging and my MRI results from August 2024 showed no signs of cancer, it looked completely normal. This was just such a happy surprise, finally! While it took longer than usual, I had an exceptional response to my treatment that we did not predict. If you would have told me a year ago that despite being metastatic stage IV, I could and would still have a clinically complete response, I wouldn't have even believed it. This is proof to me that resilience and teamwork pays off! I am so thankful for my wonderful UW team who worked with me on a treatment plan that made sense for me.

It is now October 2024, 14 months after diagnosis, 55 doses of chemotherapy done, and I am receiving Radiation treatments, after which I will resume chemo. This too is not necessarily part of a typical treatment plan, but thankfully my medical team is open to options, and this radiation will hopefully destroy any last remaining cancer cells that may be there, even if they’re too small to see on imaging. We don’t know if there might still be cancer cells in distant/metastatic areas, but based on what we can see, we have reason to hope that the chemo and immunotherapies have done well. I will do this treatment and the next and keep going as long as I need to. We’ll see, the future is uncertain. But it always is, cancer or not. While that can be scary, it also opens the door for possibilities and allows hope to enter with them. I am thankful for the love and support of my family and friends and appreciate each day that I am able to be here with them. Since we don’t know what tomorrow might bring, the most important thing we can do is to live and love every single day to the fullest.