Can I Make Cancer Funny?

2023 was not a year of productivity. Instead, I just tried to survive.

One of my early treatments, take note of the hair that would soon be gone.

I’ve been trying to find humor with the situation and it’s there. But overall, last year was rough. So without any more preamble, in February of 2023 I found out I had cancer.

That revelation usually follows with the statement "I hope you caught it early!" So I will assume you are asking that to your screen.

Unfortunately, reader, I did not. By the time I was diagnosed, it was stage 4. That means it had left the breast, bypassed the lymph nodes, and (in my case) settled comfortably into several bones where it was happily munching away at my body.

How did all of this happen? Story time!

In June of 2022, I noticed a lump in my breast. It was tiny, like a marble. I'd always had fibrous breasts, and bumps came and went. This one stayed for a month. Then, another month passed, and it was still there. So I called to see if I could get a mammogram.

Here is one of the most frustrating parts of the story. At the time, I didn't have insurance.

Though I said I could pay out of pocket, the imaging center told me I had to get referrals. Every place I called only had open slots months out. Finally, Planned Parenthood came through. In case you don't know, they do breast exams and can give those referrals. Unfortunately, I couldn't get in for a month and a half. The lump continued to feel firm.

I remember what the doctor said when she examined my breast, which was slightly bigger than its sister. But not so much that it gave cause for concern.

"I've seen breast cancer before," she said, "And this doesn't look like it. But I will refer you for a mammogram and ultrasound to ease your mind."

With referrals in hand, I got an appointment at the imaging center three weeks later, as that was the earliest opening I could get. I feel the need to point out that they all asked my age. At 33, I was not a priority. Women under 40, especially those with fibrous breasts, had lumps, and they usually turned out to be harmless. So, wait, I did. My breast continued to get firmer.

The ultrasound showed nothing. Dense breasts will do that sometimes. The mammogram had similar issues, particularly as the location of the lump was super inconvenient for the machine, which should have been updated by now. Is there a reason we still get our boobs pancaked like that? We don't have better technology?

The doctor sent me the results. There are no indicators of a problem, although that area at the edge of the breast may be something that needs further research; come in for a breast MRI in a month.

My mom was happy with that news, as was I. If there had been something, wouldn't they have been more urgent? Then, three days before that appointment, I got a call asking where my MRI referral was.

This confused me. "Sorry? I was told by the doctor there that I needed one, and she scheduled it."

"Oh no, silly." She did not say this exactly, but I'm giving you the spirit of the dialogue. "We still need a referral from a doctor who examines your breasts. We do the imaging!"

UGH! At that point, I had already signed-up for insurance. The threat of breast cancer had passed me by with the lack of urgency, but I had saved up enough to pay the fees and could finally afford it. The place that could see me soonest would be April, though I was on a priority list to call if people canceled their appointments. I told the imaging people I would get that referral and reschedule.

January of 2023 arrived, and I left my service industry job with some savings and started going to the interviews I’d booked. I was ready to make that year the one where I truly made everything align.

Except my breast looked odd. It had nearly tripled in size in one week and had become very tender. I knew this wasn't normal. Around that same time, I received another email from the imaging doctor. Actually, on second thought, some things on the mammogram looked suspicious. Can I get a referral and reschedule as soon as possible?

I found a hospital out of network that could take me the next day. It was a lot from the savings, but I didn't care. Something was wrong.

It was one of the weirdest experiences getting that breast exam. I felt like a cow. Three doctors looked at my weird breast. The first said she wasn't sure what was wrong but would give me a referral. She asked if she could get her colleague, who had been there for 20 years or so, to take a look.

That doctor came in; she looked at my breast and declared it was probably an infection. She wanted to prescribe antibiotics. She asked if she could get their other colleague, who'd been there almost 40 years.

He examined my breast and told them that I should not take antibiotics, and he couldn't be sure what it was, but he did look happy when I told him I had scheduled an MRI for later that week, knowing I would get a referral from this visit. I particularly remember him commenting on my youth and hoping it was just some inflammation for my sake.

The day of the MRI arrived. Those results allowed me to schedule a biopsy a week later. Those results finally told me what my gut knew by that time. It was cancer.

I won't bore you with too many details here—so a quick rundown. I found an excellent oncologist. Several scans later, we knew it was stage 4 and where it was. We scheduled a port placement and chemo. From March to the end of July, I got infusions. Now, I am on a clinical trial for a drug that targets my type of cancer. Though I tried to find work directly after treatment, it took time. I'm not saying companies will be biased against your health, but yes, they absolutely will. No one wants to willingly hire someone new who will need some mornings off to do scans or continue getting medicine. As of last week, I found a good part-time job that allows wiggle room for appointments. I write on the side. I hope things will continue to improve.

My last day of chemo, wearing my cold mittens to try and battle the neuropathy.

Cancer cells float around my body like dust, waiting for a chance to return. I can't control that. All I can do is live life the best I can and find ways to raise awareness for advanced cancer research. Be a better more connected friend and family member. And get things done. I was going to wait to send this post until after my next set of scans. But that’s dumb. If I keep that mindset, I’ll always to be scared to do anything.

Yes, I have another set of scans coming up at the end of the month. I try not to worry about it. The prospect of sitting in my oncologist's office and having her tell me that the medicine isn't working is too much for me to think about sometimes. So it's best not to.

Instead, I think about humor. I think about the book I want to write. As cliché as it sounds, a scare like this makes you realize how short life is. I'm so happy I spent my younger years abroad, traveling, because now it would be more complicated.

This is not an eloquent post. This is probably not a funny post. But I promised to update you all on that "thing" that happened last year. So there it is. I had cancer. Technically, I still do as a chronic condition. But I don't plan to let it stop me as long as my body and mind hold out.

Here's to 2024, a year I wasn't sure I'd get to see. I look forward to accomplishing so much, and hope you'll stick around for the comics, doodles, musings, and humor.