Below is a factual account of my two experiences with breast cancer. The facts can be summed up like this - because God loves me He connected me with the right people at the right time.  He gave me a wonderful, loving, supportive family. Ashley Hamm responded to an email and sent me to Adela and Eleanor at the YWCA because God loves me; He placed Sharon Grant on the other end of the phone when I called the Southwest CANCER center to ask for an earlier date for my biopsy.  And instead of healing me Himself, God used the talents He gave Lorre Chandler, Wila and Isabella to nurse me physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  God gave Drs. Hardwicke. Warren and Arledge the knowledge, skill and compassion to direct my treatment, surgery and reconstruction. They were not only my doctorís, but also my friends, confidants and advisors.  It was not an accident or a coincidence that I all these people crossed my path.  It is not luck that I am alive today to tell this story. God doesnít promise us that we will never suffer, hurt or anguish. He does promise that He will be with us every step of the way to guide, comfort and love us. It was not God's will that I would have breast cancer. It was His will that path would cross the paths of all these amazing, caring people.  

The Bible says ask and you will receive. I asked and I received so much more than I could ever have imagined. What does it take to survive breast cancer? First and foremost, you need God to guide you to dedicated, talented, compassionate medical professionals  who care enough to give of their time, their knowledge and their hearts to help people in need. He sent to the best of the best.

Have you ever wanted to donate money, but werenít sure exactly sure how it would be used or who would benefit for your donation?  Well, wonder no more! This is the second step in surviving breast cancer or any cancer for that matter. I am the life that was saved thanks to the hundreds and thousands of you who generously gave money to the Komen Foundation to help in the fight against breast cancer. Komen in return gave money to the YWCA as did the United Fund that provided a biopsy to diagnosis my cancer.  I am the life that was saved because the Avon Corporation donated money to provide the wonderful office staff at the YWCA who patiently and lovingly guided me through the early days when my cancer was diagnosed and I had no health insurance to get I had no insurance.

So when you want to donate money, remember me. Put a face with that donation and remember that the Komen Foundation, The YWCA, the United Way and the Avon Corporation all contribute to saving lives with your donations. 
If you have never heard of Inflammatory Breast Cancer, this is your lucky day.  This is your opportunity to learn about a killer that takes the live of many, many women.  You are lucky because you have a chance right now to learn about Inflammatory Breast Cancer rather than finding out what it is when you walk into a doctorís office for biopsy result.

This is my story. . .
My greatest fear in life was having cancer.  I had to face that fear for the first time in 1995.  I was 45 years old, successful and enjoying life.  A regular customer in my mall store conducted public service meetings on breast cancer awareness at Bealls department store. Carol came to the store to see the new music boxes while she was in the mall.  For several months she had encouraged me to get a baseline mammogram that I should have had five years earlier.

She was in the store in June looking for a motherís day gift and once again gave me a gentle nudge.  I was off the following Monday, so I called the Methodist imaging center and gave myself a motherís day gift. I scheduled my first mammogram.

I went for a routine mammogram.  However, when the technician came back to take more pictures for the third time, I realized my routine mammogram was anything but "routine."  Although I wasnít supposed to see a doctor I was told that he wanted to speak to me. Not a good sign.

The radiologist told me I had a nodule on my left breast and he said he thought we caught it early.  He told me a friend of his, a surgeon, did this "type" of surgery, and that he was waiting to see me. 

The surgeon's office was a 10 minute drive.  I filled out the required medical forms and was taken immediately to an exam room.  When Dr. Mark Pessa came in and put the x-ray film on the lighted screen, I couldnít take my eyes off of what I saw. 

Dr. Pessa said I had a mass in my left breast.  Funny how my ìnoduleî had become ìa massî in less than 20 minutes and the change in terminology hit me like a brick.  He said I needed to have a biopsy as soon as possible.  Dr.Pessa was very honest with me.  The mass had uneven edges and was very suspicious looking.   He explained the differences between a mastectomy and a lumpectomy and said I was a good candidate for either procedure. When he asked me which procedure I wanted, I responded, "But I just came for a mammogram." How dramatically my world had changed during the past hour.

The surgeon wanted to do the biopsy on Thursday, but mother's day weekend was a very busy time for my store so I scheduled the biopsy on Monday, May 11, 1995, the day after Motherís Day.  I had a biopsy followed by a lumpectomy.  I awoke from my lumpectomy to learn that my Grandfather had died and that his funeral was the following day. I left the hospital on Tuesday with drainage tubes hanging out of the sleeves of my dress and began the process of mourning the loss of someone I loved and dealing with knowledge that my was fear in life had come true.

My tumor was 1.2 centimeters.  I had 7 weeks of radiation at the Southwest Cancer Center. I finished radiation on Monday August 7 and on Tuesday August 8 I had a complete hysterectomy because I was terrified of having cancer show up anywhere else in my body.  I returned to work a week later and resumed the business of living. 

I continued to see my oncologist for checkups until 2002.  It had been seven years since my life changing event so when my oncologist left town I decided not to find a new doctor.
In October 2006, a cousin who was 3 years younger died of breast cancer.  I had continued my annual mammograms but was unable to have one in 2005 because I changed jobs.  I was self employed and could not afford health insurance.  Judyís death had a devastating effect on me. I had forgotten that God had saved me from breast cancer.

I felt uneasy and during a self exam, I felt something very hard in my left breast.  It didnít feel right and I wondered if what I felt was the result of post radiation therapy.  From late October to early December, I continued to check my left breast.  By early December it was apparent that something was terribly wrong.   The ìsomethingî had grown from about one half inch to two or more inches.

I became frustrated because 12 years earlier you could make your own appointment for a mammogram.  That was no longer possible.  You now had to have a referral from a doctor before you could have a mammogram - another obstacle in obtaining necessary, lifesaving exams.

I went to Premier Clinic where a PA examined my breast, and I saw for the first time, a look that would appear on many faces over the next few weeks.  On December 16, 2006, I returned and was not surprised to learn that abnormalities were found and I needed a biopsy immediately to determine what was growing in my breast. 
I was scared.  A biopsy would require $3000 to $5000 up front to even get in the door of a hospital.  It would take me months to save that much money.  I didn't know what "the big, hard something" was, but I knew I could not wait months.

I spent hours writing letters and making phone calls.  I wrote more than 20 letters and made too many phone calls to count.  Carl Isett's office was the first to respond and they listened and looked for resources.  The second contact was from Ashley Hamm at the Lubbock Komen foundation and the email she sent would provide me with information and contacts that would save my life.

She told me to contact Eleanor at the YMCA.  Adela actually worked my case.  She, Eleanor and Ashley are my angels, because had it not been for them I would not be alive today.  The Komen Foundation provides funds to the YWCA for breast and cervical cancer screening.  The YWCA also had funds for biopsies for those who could not afford them. 

Adela scheduled an appointment with Dr. Thomas Warren at the Southwest Research and Cancer Center. My original appointment was scheduled on February 6. It was now the second week in January. My ìsomethingî was getting "bigger and harder" with each passing day. And me, well I was more frightened than I had ever been in my life.

I scheduled an appointment in the family practice clinic at TTUHSC. I watched the resident's face as she performed the breast exam. There was that look again. The resident brought in her attending physician and I again saw the look of dismay and shock. The attending physician immediately contacted Dr. Warren and arranged for an earlier appointment on January 23.

When I called the Southwest Cancer Center to discuss the appointment, Sharon Grant was the person on the other end of the telephone when I learned that I was only scheduled for an examination . . . not a biopsy.  How many people would have to look at my breast before I could find out the name of the big hard thing?

God was looking out for me that day when He put Sharon Grant on the other end of the phone that day.  What a fantastic representative she is for SWRCC.

Weeks of worrying as my "something" got bigger and harder finally took its toll.  I had a melt down on the phone.  Sharon listened patiently as I cried and ask her if she could begin to imagine "what it was like to go to sleep knowing something was there and to wake up knowing something was there."  She asked if she could call me back.  When Sharon called back about 20 minutes later, I still had my appointment for an examination, but she also had scheduled a biopsy the following day thank to two more exceptional people - Melanie Fowler and Lori Chandler.

They worked with Sharon to schedule the biopsy and in so doing helped save my life. Melanie examined my breast on January 23.  She was calm and presented me with other scenarios for the (something) other than what I feared . . . cancer but the look was on her face.

I had my first biopsy on January 24 and the biopsy results came back on February 26.  I will always feel a special bond with Lori Chandler for helping me face those dark moments as she read my biopsy results. My niece summed it up after accompanying me to an appointment.  She said "Lori is the kind of nurse every doctor should have."

Lori told me I had stage 2 invasive ductile carcinoma.  This was the same cancer I had before, but at stage 2 rather than stage 1. I was still scared but at least now I could face my "something." Now "something" had a name and I was building a team with God as the coach who would help me beat the "something" that threatened my life.

I saw Dr. Warren for the first time on January 30 to further discuss my biopsy results.  As I would soon come to realize, Dr Warren was another very talented, "special" person who would join my team to help me fight for my life.  He scheduled a CT scan and a bone scan before we went forward with a mastectomy to insure that the cancer was only in my breast.  Dr. Warren is thorough and leaves nothing to chance.  That tenaciousness would help me survive my cancer.
I returned for my scan results on February 9.  After discussing the scans, Dr. Warren once again looked at the mammogram and examined my breast.  The mammogram really didnít clearly identify a mass or tumor, but the report clearly indicated that I had cancer.  I also was confused. I told Dr. Warren that 12 years earlier I had a mass that was 1.2 centimeters that neither the surgeon or I could feel, but it was there. 

Now I had something "really big and really hard" in my breast that everyone could feel, but I had no tumor.  While talking with Dr. Warren his expression suddenly changed and he asked me if my breast had always been red or pinkish colored.  I told him I didnít know.  I just did breast exams. No one ever told me to check the color of my breast.

Dr. Warren said we needed to do another biopsy to screen for inflammatory breast cancer before we scheduled a mastectomy.  He also scheduled me with an oncologist on Monday in case the biopsy confirmed IBC.  God was in my corner once again when he sent me to Tom Warren.  Had it not been for his persistent and thorough screening and testing, we would have proceeded with the wrong diagnosis and I very possibly would not be here today.

My biopsy results were not due back until Tuesday, but on Monday, February 12, my life changed forever.  I went for an appointment with Dr. Fred Hardwicke.  He told me my test results were back. I had Inflammatory Breast Cancer.  I am fortunate because I have a wonderful, dedicated oncologist who joined my team to help me fight for my life.

I will skip the emotional tornado you are sucked into when you hear the words, "You have Inflammatory Breast Cancer." I had done my homework over the weekend and knew I was up against a particularly aggressive cancer, a cancer with only a 40% survival rate at five years.  After researching the symptoms, I also knew I had IBC.  Not only was the skin red, but the texture had changed and my nipple which had been an "outsy" was now an "insy."  That was the real clincher for me.

I began chemotherapy the following day, and again to my utter amazement, more exceptional, caring health care professionals joined my team.  I became acquainted with Isabel and Wila.  You couldnít have two finer nurses. If you ever have the misfortune to be in a position that requires chemotherapy as part of your treatment, I hope you have the good fortune to have an "Isabel" and a "Wila" to make your many hours in the infusion room more bearable.

Isabel and Wila nurtured me, not only physically, but also emotionally and spiritually, through many months of chemotherapy. They guided me over the roller coaster of emotions you experience from day to day, week to week and month to month when you are fighting for your life.

My chemotherapy was temporarily discontinued so I could have a bilateral mastectomy on June 22, 2007 at UMC.  Nothing and no one can prepare you for the first time you see yourself after a mastectomy.  You deal with the shock, remember you are alive and know that is all that matters.

Dr. Patricia Arledge is the finest plastic surgeon in the city of Lubbock.  Not only is she a skilled professional, but she a fantastic person.  She performed my reconstruction when other would not have.  I have never seen Dr. Arledge when she did not have a smile or her face and her arm outstretched to greet with affection and concern. 

She nurtured my soul and gave me encouragement each and every visit.  It was Dr. Arledge who told me that my diagnosis was what it was and that I had to accept it.  But my prognosis she pointed was mine.  So I followed her advice and asked, received and then thanked God.

I resumed chemotherapy in July and continued until mid November.  I have now gone nine months and for a second time I am a survivor.  Someone once asked me what the odds were of one woman having two different types of breast cancer in a lifetime.  My response, "It doesn't really matter what the odds are."  I did and I survived twice.  That is the important thing.
After you face such a deadly opponent it changes your life in good ways. Like you, I do not know how long I will live or when the end will come.  But I appreciate everyday and live as if it my last.  I try to live life to the fullest and invest my time in the most important things - people.

I try not to miss an opportunity to see family and friends.  I also spend time trying to create greater awareness for Inflammatory Breast Cancer.  I realized shortly after I was diagnosed that one of the reason the survival rate is so dismal is because doctor's rarely see IBS so they often misdiagnosis it.  Every time I went to any clinic after my diagnosis, when the medical professionals learned I had IBC, they ask if others could come to my examining room and look at my breast.  I realized how important it was for doctors and medical professionals to see IBS every time there was an opportunity.

I called the OB/GYN clinic at TTUHSC and volunteered my breast!  I went to speak with a group of residents.  I answered questions and then they came into the examination room in groups of 4 and examined my breast.  I only wish I had taken pictures of my breast because the red was so subtle.  I am a redhead and I have a natural blush anyway.   The pictures you see on line show breasts that are grossly inflamed and enlarged.

I also visited every website I could find that dealt with breast cancer.  I was alarmed to find that many of them did not even mention IBC and most of those that had breast cancer information put the IBC info in a different location. I sent emails to all websites that had no information about and urged them to include IBC.  The two sites where I found information received an email thanking them for providing women with this important information.

I believe IBC symptoms should be included in every handout, every place that breast cancer symptoms are provided.  I have a t-shirt that says, "You donít have to have a lump to have breast cancer.  Ask me."  I was lucky.  My IBC had begun sheeting through the nodes of my breast and through the skin.  That was the ìsomething big and hardî that I felt.  That ìsomethingî after four and a half months of chemotherapy was still 5 centimeters long and 2 centimeters deep when it was removed.

Had it not been for the sheeting, I would not have noticed anything for much, much longer.  No one ever told me to look at the color of the skin, to feel the texture or to look at the nipple. 
I will work tirelessly to spread the word.  You don't have to die of breast cancer. I want to spread that message and tell as many women as I can so we can save lives.  I have also gained a greater awareness of the problems faced by the uninsured or even those on Medicaid.  Those experiences are a whole other story and will keep me busy attempting to change a system that is broken.

SEE OUR HOME PAGE FOR A LIST OF ALL STORIES