Tag: hope

It’s Not the Same

Kelsey Reigle

And while I’ve been struggling to put my finger on what’s going on, I’m okay with whatever is going on.

I’ve been back at work for a month now after my double mastectomy and this time going back, it’s been so hard. I saw a quote the other day that said “After breast cancer, my job had not changed. I had.”

I don’t think anything has resonated so much with me in my life. WOW! My job is, or was, my dream job.

I literally remember sitting in college and said, “my dream job would be becoming a Paralegal for a state-wide nonprofit helping victims of some sort.” I have that job and man, I was on top of the world when I got it.

I don’t hate my work or what I do. It’s just hard to go back and try to pick up where I left off. I work in a profession that is fast-pace and I cannot keep up, right now. (I really wish I could). I’m on calls with survivors of sexual assault, harassment, rape, seeing if our attorneys can help them. It’s emotionally taxing, if you could even begin to imagine. Vicarious trauma is a real thing everyone.

While I’m sitting here, crying internally because I wish I could just quit my job and figure life [without cancer] out, I’m okay with this feeling. I’m not sure where I’m going. I know I’ll be finishing up my second degree at the end of the year and maybe by then I’ll find my true calling.

My love for advocacy hasn’t stopped. My love as a Paralegal hasn’t stopped. But damn has Breast Cancer made me doublethink everything.

xx Kelsey

Lonely and Selfish: How I Feel Now Since Treatment is Halfway Done.

Kelsey Reigle

Lately, these words have been ringing true to me.  I’m surrounded by so many people yet it seems more people were there in the beginning.  Sometimes weeks go by and some friends and family don’t even reach out.  Some people don’t realize how far a phone call or even a text can go.  And sometimes I feel I’m too selfish because I’m demanding at times.  It’s hard to see life through someone else’s eyes other than your own.  Your life is consumed with this disease, you honestly forget that people have other lives. 

I also think that as a cancer patient we have a right to be selfish under certain circumstances.  I mean hello, our life is changing and IS forever changed.

I have a lot of people I can count on but I don’t think they have any idea how lonely it can get. They possibly couldn’t. They have no idea what it’s like to have cancer. The thoughts I sometimes have at night are dark and I cry a lot. But, I do it when I’m alone. I feel like I have to start over in some aspects but this time I have a lot more wisdom and time to absorb what’s going on in my life at my pace. There are things I have worked on for years, tools used to help with my anxiety/depression/self-worth & esteem, that are completely gone. [I feel like my cancer has only amplified these things].

Loneliness and what follows, isolation, is not only emotionally draining but it can be damaging to one’s own health.  Cancer also makes you look at what’s truly important.  I have developed deeper connections with people already in my life, while systematically putting others at arms-length.  I have people that have out-right stopped talking to me, (and y’all thought losing friends once you had a baby was rough!).  I have also connected with some old friends of mine and made new ones as well.  I believe my physical fight against cancer is great; this emotional turmoil that I’m going through is insane.  And  will continue to say that cancer is a mental battle more than anything.

It has not always been like this, but as my journey goes on, these things, loneliness and selfishness, are becoming more noticeable.

I’ve been doing a lot though to help me deal with feelings of loneliness. I’ve been telling my story to people, connecting with other’s who are battling Breast Cancer, continuously reaching out to my main support system, and talking with my therapist. All of these things together doesn’t make all my problems go away but acknowledging what is going on and actively trying to better it makes life a lot easier. I hate to be stagnant when I can use my resources.

I have to credit my boyfriend and two great friends that are constantly checking up on me and making sure I’m fine. And the funny thing is, two of those three people live over a hour away from me and still manage to be there for me. Although they’re physically not there, their emotional support and willingness to sit and hear me bitch or cry does everything for me. They don’t question why I’m feeling the way I do. They aren’t critical when I get into a funk. They’re supportive and damn I’m so blessed to have you guys; Patrick, Patty and Kate, I love you guys.

Although I’ve been feeling like things are going downhill for a little, I’m still positive as ever… or try to be! I finished my book, The Body Keeps the Score and one of the last quotes that really stuck out to me is, “the greatest discovery of my generation is that human beings can alter their lives by altering their attitudes of mind,” said by Psychologist William James. This quote has been resonating with me since I started realizing how lonely this journey can me.

It’s so easy to get sucked into a black hole and I can honestly sit here and say, it’s comforting at times and sometimes I don’t want to get out of that funk (people with depression understand the comfort in not being fully happy). But I can and I must, because I need to continue to have control of my life and feelings. I can’t have this Breast Cancer continuously tear me down. I’m stick of feeling lonely and selfish.

So if you’re reading this and are going through your Cancer journey, I promise, it’s normal to feel lonely. It’s normal to feel like you lost control or you’re being too selfish. But when you let these things consume you and take over your life, that’s when you know you need to take control of it. Be your own advocate and biggest fan during this time of your life!

xx Kelsey

Don’t Get Too Chemotional

Kelsey Reigle

8/19/2019 – I had my first round of chemo and wow was it an emotional day for me. I’ve honestly been in high-spirits, for the most part, about my diagnosis. I got to the point where I was like “I can’t control this, why am I trying to fight these emotions, these thoughts, etc.” I’ve got commended by, I swear, every person who I’ve been in contact with. I wouldn’t say they’re praising me, but I did have my fertility doctor say that I would be a great fit for their company and that they will miss me there. You have to keep a positive mind set in all of this. Cancer is completely out of your control and there are only so many preventative things you can do for your health.

But damn Monday was rough. My mom and I were halfway to the hospital and I broke down in tears. It was the day, my first treatment (Adriamycin and Cytoxan; or AC as most cancer patients refer to it as). You think you’re mentally prepared, you think you know what’s going to happen but you absolutely don’t. You think that the two months leading up to it of testing, surgeries (three for me), appointment after appointment, would prepare you but it doesn’t. I was fine by the time we got to the hospital but I was worried because my lidocaine was definitely not on my port for 30 minutes, was rubbing off and would probably hurt like a bitch once they tried to access it.

I checked in and waited for them to call my name to access my port. The nurse called me back and the minute I sat in the chair, she couldn’t get “how are you feeling today?” out of her mouth without me breaking down again. I mean fuck, at 25 this is not what I want to be dealing with. This is not what I envisioned where I’d be. She kneeled down and we talked for 10 minutes before I was able to calm down. Shout out to Megan because seriously she is such an amazing nurse and made me feel like her friend, not a cancer patient, in that moment and that’s exactly what I needed. She prepped my port and counted down to 0 and drove that needle in like it was nothing. The worst part was over and it took her, maybe, 3 minutes to do it (besides getting my blood drawn). Literally the worst part of my day was over.

I then had to go over to my oncologist’s office and check in with her, then head back over to the chemo room to wait for my blood work to come back to start my prep meds and other fun drugs. The rest of the day was smooth sailing. [Although I heard my nurses calling the currier because everyone was waiting for their drugs and for some reason, they were taking their good ole time.]

My first drug, Adriamycin, is a push-through drug so that took maybe 20 minutes for the nurse to do. And then my Cytoxan was a 30 minute drip bag. So not even an hour for my chemo drugs!!!

Through it all, I was surrounded by such amazing staff. I had a friend’s mother come and check-in on me a few times; she was the sweetest. Megan kept on poking her head in to make sure I was holding up okay. The volunteer, he was laughing at me, because I was so excited about all the food and drinks in the kitchen. UPMC Pinnacle really and truly made me feel comfortable and relaxed.

Monday was a mix of emotions, from crying to laughing, to having an intimate/personal conversation with one of the nurses… I’m just glad my first round is done. I fuckin’ did it y’all. SEVEN MORE ROUNDS TO GO!

xx Kelsey

Chemo and Fertility

Kelsey Reigle

When I first met with my breast surgeon and we were going over what to expect, I wasn’t considering how treatment would affect my fertility. I thought having cancer at 25 was pretty damn bad. I thought I had enough on my plate.

Most chemo drugs damage a woman’s eggs, essentially affecting her fertility. Being the 25 year-old that I am, I’m luckier because younger woman tend to have more eggs and this gives us a higher chance to keep some fertility. Women over the age of 40 who go through chemotheraphy are more likely to enter menopause after treatment.

There are various chemo drugs that are used but of course 2 of the 3 drugs I will be on result in a medium risk of losing fertility. These two drugs are Cytoxan and Adriamycin.

Through it all, I was able to have the opportunity to freeze my eggs. This is done by giving myself hormone injections to simulate my ovaries and after 9 to 12 days, my eggs are extracted and frozen using vitrification technology. This part of my journey has been crazy. The process of egg-freezing is expensive, time consuming and emotionally exhausting. This was not what I was expecting. I was kind of blind-sided but I was able to take some valuable things away from this.

Three things I took away from all of this:

  1. Reach out/talk to people. Talking about fertility was very hard for me. I was sad for myself. I had come across a dental hygienist at my dental office and we were just talking about what I was going through (cancer shit) and I had brought up fertility. Well she shared with me that for years she was, and still is, having issues with trying to carry. Her husband and her have tried IVF and have had no success. And her sister has tried IVF over 10 times. My heart broke for her, and her sister, but by her sharing something intimate was wholesome and it put into perspective how lucky I am. She reminded me that I’m not alone.
  2. Realizing what is most important. When you think life with cancer is bad, add to it, the potential of not having a successful pregnancy, life gets scary. I have a lot to be thankful for and this has shined a light on what is the most important things in my life right now; my health, my daughter and self-care. Those three things are what I’m most concerned about when I go into my treatment.
  3. Regret. After I had my daughter I swore that I didn’t want to have another kid. Well… when you are faced with infertility, there are a lot of things you need to consider. Could I really go the rest of my life not having another kid? What if I decide I want to have another and I don’t do this? What if I do this, spend the money and then not even have a kid? So many thoughts ran through my head but I knew that if I didn’t give myself this opportunity, I would regret this for the rest of my life. I couldn’t close the door on this chance.

As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” I really considered not doing egg-freezing; it was going to interrupt my vacation, you have to get monitored every other day and blood work done… it was really time consuming. Although it involved a lot, I knew that I needed and wanted to do this. It was a really tough decision to make and there have even been hiccups along the way (trigger shot to even get started, delayed start date of shots). I feel so empowered to be able to do this though. It has been life changing.

Update since I first started this post (draft form), I am a mommy to 16 embryos. Our bodies are absolutely amazing!

xx Kelsey

Time is Ticking.

Kelsey Reigle

This blog is going to be short or I’m going to try to make it short. I really could talk about anything for a really long time. Anywho.

Over the past month and a half, I’ve seen every kind of doctor and have done a bajillion tests. It has taken so long between the time I got my diagnosis and the time my treatment will start. [I was diagnosed on June 19th and I won’t start chemo until August 19th for some perspective].

As you could imagine, having constant appointments you become very over-whelmed.  I have a planner and two notebooks to keep myself organized. I get to work and sometimes it’s challenging for me to concentrate. I sometimes feel like I’m walking in a twilight zone and just going with the motions. I tell my therapist I feel like everything is so surreal. I honestly can’t believe this is my life. I actually have fucking breast cancer. And out of all the things you can go through, I get stuck with something almost as bad as death.

Through it all, though, my daughter has been a constant reminder to remain present.  My therapist has been reminding me too. She (my daughter) has helped me change my perspective and helped me to cherish life a lot more. Although cancer has struck a cord in me, [potentially] not being there for my daughter is debilitating. I’ve been trying to truly stop to take in the blessings around me – including Gia showing me a new painting or her chalk work, or her telling me about her friends in daycare or her saying “I love you.”

There’s literally no more taking life for granted. This whole time I’ve been waiting has challenged me in ways I never thought possible. And now that I’m in the homestretch until chemo starts, I’m ready to get these rounds done!! August 19th, where the hell are you?

xx Kelsey

Knock, knock.

Kelsey Reigle

May 28th was like any other day. I woke up too damn early and marched myself to the bathroom so I could shower. As I was washing myself, my hand moved over my right breast, and I froze. I went over the lump maybe 10 times before I was like “okay, there’s really something there.” I immediately broke down in tears. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life.

I hopped out of the shower and called my mom immediately. I don’t even think I made a cohesive sentence before she said “call your obgyn and schedule with her.”

I called and they said my obgyn wasn’t available but so-so is. I obviously took the appointment because who gives a shit at this point. I just needed to know what was going on. I eventually made it to my appointment and had my breast exam. The doctor informed me she was going to send me to get an ultrasound done.

The day of my ultrasound, I was pretty nervous, but I was super optimistic. We did the ultrasound and the tech kept on saying that it looks fine, “I doubt the doctor will want you to do a mammogram.” Well wouldn’t you know, the doctor wanted to do a mammogram. So I did that and as I was waiting for the doctor to look over it, I was just hoping I didn’t have to get that dang biopsy done; that would be the next step.

The nurse comes out, calls my name, and pulls me into the room. As I sat down, I just knew he wanted to test this bad-boy (my tumor) out. I mean hell, I was only 25 and BC runs in my family. Better be safe than sorry, right? He told me it was a calcification buildup and that we need to do the biopsy.

I left the office in tears. How was I going to manage to get through the next two weeks without crying every hour? In those two weeks, I don’t think I’ve ever cried that much. But crying is okay, and sometimes we need that safe-space to let out our emotions.

Biopsy day rolled around and hell, I was so damn nervous. I did an ultra-sound needle guided biopsy which was absolute torture. Not that you can avoid breast cancer, but out of all the testing I did, that was the worse and wish I didn’t have to do that.

June 19th came and I finally got the call. I was told I have Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS). I started crying like a bitch on the phone. I mean I was really scared for my life.

This was my first diagnosis. DCIS is a non-invasive cancer that starts in the milk ducts. It is typically diagnosed as Stage 0. So although it was horrible to hear I had cancer, I was hopeful. I wouldn’t have to do chemo! I could get my bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction and close this chapter in a few short months.

After my diagnosis, I met with my breast surgeon; my appointment was a big blur. I went into auto-pilot and all I heard was “cancer.” Thank God my mom was with me because she had to repeat everything over. What my breast surgeon was concerned about was my tests were showing I was negative for progesterone and estrogen. If I would test negative for the HER2 Protein, then that would change my diagnosis.

Quick lesson: Estrogen, progesterone and HER2 Protein are the three most common receptors known to fuel breast cancer growth. Because the tumor cells lack the receptors, treatments such as hormone therapy and drugs that target these receptors are ineffective. This leaves chemotherapy as the only option for treatment. Good thing is, #TNBC sometimes responds better to chemo in earlier stages than other forms of cancer.

After meeting with her and more testing was done (CT scans, bone scans, MRI, etc.), on July 10th, I had my partial mastectomy to get the tumor out of me and to finally test it for the HER2 Protein.

Although I went into this thing being optimistic, as the weeks rolled and testing was done, my hope was fading away. Everything triggered me. I could barely talk about the “c” word without a lump forming in my throat. I was devastated and just kept asking myself “why me?” “why can’t I go a year without shit hitting the fan?”

My breast surgeon finally called me (7/17) and let me know that my diagnosis was now Triple Negative Breast Cancer. My new diagnosis was more “aggressive” and required chemo (YAY)! What was supposed to be a quick fix, turned into a treatment plan I didn’t want to face.

Chemo has been a tough pill to swallow for me but I know I’ll be okay. It will all be okay. Through everything so far, I’ve [really] learned to take one day at a time and not to worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow. (I’m still working on that, btw).

xx Kelsey