This week, I’m publishing stories of other cancer fighters and survivors. Monday’s post featured Marie’s story. Today’s post features Laura, my partner in cancer, friendship and sisterhood. Laura has been my best friend since second grade (that’s 25 years) and we’ve had the mutual curse to have cancer at young ages, and the blessing to help each other through those cancers. Mine, as I’ve said, was thyroid at age 14; Laura’s was breast at age 31.
Laura’s story began when she found a strange dimple under her breast one morning while getting dressed. Her husband urged her to go to her OB-GYN, who ordered an ultrasound. The ultrasound didn’t turn up anything, so they scheduled a follow-up six months later, which also turned up nothing. The following year, the OB-GYN asked her if there was anything new, and Laura told him the dimple was still there. Though he didn’t seem concerned, the doctor sent Laura to get a third ultrasound. At that ultrasound- more than a year after Laura first saw the dimple- the technician felt the lump and found it on the screen.
A biopsy of the tumor confirmed cancer, and then an MRI showed other possible cancer in the region. An under-arm biopsy confirmed cancer in local lymph nodes. A PET scan of the body brought some relief when it showed the cancer was localized in the chest area. Some of the tumors were inoperable because they were too deep in her chest cavity. A mastectomy was ordered, followed by four months of chemotherapy and five weeks of radiation. The entire process took about ten months.
Although Laura’s family and friends were extremely worried, especially in the lead-up to the PET scan, which would determine whether or not she had stage IV cancer (essentially incurable), Laura just took one thing at a time and didn’t let the worries overwhelm her. “I guess I just put my power face on and I did what I needed to do to get through it,” she told me in our interview. “I realized about myself that I really turn inward whenever there’s a catastrophe in my life. I don’t want anybody else, I just want to deal with it myself. I lost a lot of weight, I didn’t realize it, I wasn’t eating very much. And then I just soldiered on. I didn’t want my life to change, so I worked full-time and I just sort of kept going. I felt kind of powerful to be doing something about it. At every stage, that felt good. Based on my age, it seemed to be a very clear path. I didn’t have to wonder if I was doing the right thing, it was just- this is what I have to do, each step.”
Laura’s young age did make the treatment plan more straightforward, but also added an extra challenge. Laura does not yet have children and isn’t sure that she wants them, but she had to make a quick decision before chemotherapy whether or not to freeze her eggs. In the aftermath of the cancer, Laura now has to take a five-to ten-year course of tamoxifen, which prevents women from childbearing during that time. Laura feels much empathy for women who are diagnosed in their later thirties who haven’t yet had children and may now never have the chance.
The first part of Laura’s treatment included extensive surgery, followed by breast reconstruction. She thinks the surgeon did a great job, but the reconstructed breast doesn’t act the same way as her own breast. In Laura’s words, “You just have to laugh, I guess. I have a joke, that when I get cold, I’m winking at you, because I only have one nipple. You just have to laugh, because what else can you do? As time goes on, I just get used to this is the new way, how my body is.”
Laura felt lucky that she seemed to take well to chemotherapy and was able to manage the symptoms for the most part. “Sometimes I look back and I can’t believe it even happened, I look in the mirror and I see I have short hair, because I lost my hair during chemo, and it just- it was okay. It really wasn’t as bad as I ever imagined. They have so many drugs now to combat nausea and everything else, that it was do-able, and I did it, and that main part is over for now, and I just can’t believe it happened.”
After Laura’s chemo finished, she and her husband- both foodies- went on an “eat your heart out” vacation in Vermont to celebrate. It was the first time Laura was able to enjoy all her favorite foods, and even some wine, so they booked a nice wine dinner at a bed and breakfast. Laura wasn’t wearing a wig and had only peach fuzz for hair, a cue to her 30 or so dining companions that she might have had cancer. During one of the five wine courses, Laura helped the server translate something in Italian, and it came out in conversation that Laura is a trained opera singer. Out of the blue, the server requested that she sing something. Laura says that in the past, she might not have done so- her husband was very surprised that she even considered singing in front of total strangers without any preparation. But Laura decided just to do it, without worrying about what people thought or making a mistake. She ended up singing three songs. The audience gave her standing ovations and some people wept at the juxtaposition of the beautiful music, sung by a woman going through cancer treatment. It was a touching experience for her and the people there, and when describing it to me, Laura expressed a sense of catharsis and joy.
I find that story so inspiring. When someone going through a visibly difficult thing is able to make beauty and joy out of it, it’s so powerful. Having cancer does set you apart, for a time. It’s not perhaps as role-defining as religion or sexual orientation may be, but it still makes people look at you differently. If you are able to carry that burden lightly, and give others joy while doing so- that’s a beautiful thing.
In Laura’s words: “If you can make it through all this stuff, a lot of things are just little things that don’t really matter in the end… I like seeing the good things, the positive things in every situation.”
Like Marie, Laura is happy to lend an ear to anyone with questions or feelings to share. Email leannesowul@gmail.com to get in touch with Laura.
Thank you, Laura, for sharing your story, for being my inspiration of strength and positive energy, and for being the best, most supportive friend and cancer-partner a girl could ask for!
This post is part of a series on cancer; previous posts are listed below:
I Was Radioactive In A Padded Yellow Room
5 thoughts on “Laura’s Breast Cancer Story”