Cassie Collins Breast Cancer Fund - Round 2
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Update #3
It’s been quite some time since I’ve updated you all, so I figured I’d share what’s gone on over the last several months. I was able to start my chemo February 18th, the day after my daughter’s 5th birthday. I was so so thankful to be able to spend her day with her, healthy and happy. I was incredibly nervous going in for my first chemo visit. I asked a lot of questions and tried to stay optimistic and busy. I was so thankful to have my Mom; we laughed and sat through the many hours of my treatment. We had lunch, which still makes my stomach sick to this day just thinking about it. I *used* to love what we had; not so much anymore. By the end of my first treatment, I felt a little dizzy and tired when I left the hospital. By the time I made it home, it took everything in my power to just get to my room and away from everyone. I was so sick. My daughter tried to come and see me and I tried my very best to be “me”, but there was no hiding that Mommy was really sick. She didn’t like not being able to help me feel better. She cried and that made me feel like a horrible mom. I felt terrible for the first two days and just sick for the rest of the week. I had about 3-4 days of feeling normal, before it was time for my next round of chemo. This time, I was VERY nervous for my treatment. I prayed I wouldn’t feel the way I did after my first. By the time I left, I again felt tired and a little dizzy, but not too sick. I made it to about Michigamme before I got, what my mom described as “spacey”. I felt really tired and just off after my treatments. I would come home and crash. It was almost as if I’d taken something to help me sleep. I thankfully didn’t get sick like I did from my first treatment, so I felt good about that!
I also felt good that I still had my hair. My oncologist reassured me though that it would be falling out by Saturday. His words, “It’s almost like clockwork”. At least I was prepared; because he was right. By Saturday, I felt like garbage and my hair was in fact, falling out. I tried to just let it be, but even just touching it, made some let loose. It was very overwhelming and embarrassing. My neck was itchy, like just after a haircut and my clothes looked like I just rubbed up against a shedding dog. I knew it was time to shave it all off, once I took a shower and I clogged the drain completely. I cried as I cleaned out the drain and knew that was the last time I was going to wash my (what little bit I had left) hair for quite some time. My mom did my final shave and Alli sat in the bathroom with us and watched. I was sad, but also felt so supported. My dear friend, Angela, shaved her head with me the same day. What an amazing friend I have! It was from her strength that I found my own. I also prayed to God that it wouldn’t be painful (mentally, not so much physically). That I was more than my hair. That Christ was going to show me purpose throughout all of this.
My 3rd and 4th chemo trips resembled my second, where I felt ok for the first 2 days, just tired and then not well for about the next 7. I would just start to feel better and then I’d have to go back. It was mentally and physically taxing. The only time I felt like I wasn’t going to throw up, was when I had a little snack in my belly. Water tasted absolutely disgusting, which made the extra amount of water I was supposed to be drinking (3-4 liters a day), very difficult. I was always exhausted and trying my very best to be there for my children. I was back to work, but I’d come home and sleep, from sheer exhaustion. I was so thankful when I completed those two chemo drugs (4 cycles) and moved onto the next.
After my 4th treatment of the 2 chemo drugs, I moved onto my next – Taxol – Along with my immunotherapy drugs (my mabs – Herceptin and Perjeta). My Taxol was a chemo drug, which I received received weekly, instead of bi-weekly. That made me nervous, but I was thankful that it wasn’t nearly as hard to tolerate as the first round of chemo I had endured. My mabs were administered once every 3 weeks, but this was ongoing and was supposed to continue until March of 2021. The immunotherapy was a cake walk compared to what I’d been through with all of the other chemo meds. I noticed I still got a little worn down the first few days, but overall, it’s just a maintenance type of medication, so I didn’t get sick from them. Throughout all of this, the Covid-19 pandemic hit, and the kids were sent home from school. So, I was going through weekly chemo treatments, trying my very best to work from home, and taking care of my 2 children. It was a eventful 3 months! I was SO thankful for the few friends who were willing to watch my kids while I went to treatment, even when we were so unsure of what “health” looked like. I truly couldn’t have done it without them.
While I was receiving my Taxol, I also ended up being Neutropenic twice. That was another adventure I’d care not to do again. I had to go to the hospital to get shots 2-3 days in a row, which boosted my white blood cell production, which allowed me to proceed with my treatments. When you are neutropenic, you literally have no immune system. Maybe a blessing my kids were home and not bringing germs in?! I try to find the hidden blessings in everything. The shots made my back spasm with pain. It was quite unpleasant, to be honest. There had been very few things that have brought me to tears throughout this—but let me tell you, this was one of them. I’m thankful I only had to endure that twice.
In the midst of all of the treatment, I also started my expansion. The expansions themselves are not painful, though by just watching, you’d think it would be. Thankfully, I don’t have much feeling on my incisions yet, so it was virtually painless. The first few were not uncomfortable at all, just exciting to look and feel more like “me”. As the expansions started getting fuller though, they did start to become a little uncomfortable and tight feeling, as the skin stretched. I had my final expansion Thursday, July 23rd 2020, and I’m so very thankful for that. I was back to sleeping in the chair, because it’s just too painful to sleep in my bed, being fully expanded. The expanders felt very rigid and didn’t allow much flexibility at all. I had to keep these in place for two months, and then I was able to have the surgery to remove the expanders and replace them with normal implants. I was anxiously counting down the time (literally!), as I couldn’t wait to start a full healing process, where I could start to go back to my “normal” life.
Jumping backwards a bit, in July 2020, I had a red “spot”, right where the original tumor was located. It looked like a little cyst. It burned a bit and just looked irritated, so I went to my family doctor. He lanced and packed it and prescribed an antibiotic, since it appeared to be a cyst. After a week of no changes, I went back and he suggested I go see my cancer doctors, just to be sure. I did, in fact, go see my surgeon, just to be sure. He agreed that it looked like a cyst and I was put on a stronger antibiotic with high hopes of healing. After about a month of antibiotics, I had no changes. It was still oozing, open, and extremely painful. After several trips back and forth to my surgeon, we decided to cut it out for good. My doctor numbed it up and cut it out. Easy peasy and I couldn’t have been happier to be rid of that icky old thing. I had several stitches, because at this point it had gotten much larger in size. Well, when it came time to take the stitches out, it still wasn’t healing. It was also at this point that I asked what the pathology report said, since I hadn’t heard back and all of my chemo nurses had told me to make sure my surgeon sent my oncologist the pathology report once it came back. I was then informed that it wasn’t sent for pathology. This shocked me, as the cyst was in the exact spot that my original tumor had been. I felt incredibly nervous about this, but my surgeon reassured me that it was NOT cancer and that we were going to move forward from there. The doctor figured my body was just slow to heal with my treatments, so we put butterfly stitches over the incision for another week or so. Guess what? Still no healing. Wide open wound. LOTS of pain. And to be honest, it was starting to affect my mental health. I just wanted to be better. I couldn’t touch that side of my breast without excruciating pain. I had a WIDE open wound that drained every single day and WHOA—watch out if you bumped it, because it would bleed, bleed, bleed. I also spoke with my Oncology Doctor (Well, his PA actually, as my oncologist had been out for a few months). I requested some type of testing, since nothing had been done at this point. Biopsy? Scans? Anything? I was paranoid and starting to freak out a bit. The PA didn’t even want to look at it (as it was bandaged up, due to the wide openness and oozing) but reassured me of all the reasons it’s NOT cancer. I was starting to feel crazy and unworthy of my doctor’s time. Was I being overboard? Was I being a bother? Was it normal for someone to NOT heal? Did I have a lot lower pain tolerance than I’d always thought?
At my next visit with my surgeon, we decided it was time to do the surgery to take out the tissue expanders and place the implants. Maybe the wound wasn’t healing because my skin was being pulled so tight from my tissue expanders? My surgeon used the analogy of trying to put on a pair of jeans that were just too small. The zipper will not stay up, right? My skin was not staying closed for the same reason – was the idea. I still begged for a biopsy, just to give me that peace of mind. I so badly needed it. He told me no problem, just to remind him on the day of surgery. Done deal. SO! On November 4, 2020, the BIG DAY came! I went back for surgery, which I had been eagerly awaiting. I reminded every single person who came into my preop room, to remind the Doctor to biopsy that spot.
After surgery, I woke up, with 2 drains again. THIS was a huge bummer, but I figured, it is what it is. I might as well end with a bang, right?! The doctor said everything went well and he cleaned out that spot and sent it for pathology. I was thankful and relieved. I had a difficult time in recovery with nausea, after this surgery, so I stayed a little longer that day than planned. The nurses eventually decided it was time for me to go home. They gave me some barf bags and sent me on my way. Thank GOODNESS for such an amazing, patient, friend who drove me and wasn’t able to come in, due to Covid. We finally went home and the recovery process began. I couldn’t be happier.
A week later, I went back to my surgeon’s office to get my drains pulled. I was so excited! He came in to my room and asked if I’d talked to anyone on my team yet, in which I said no. He froze and said, “you haven’t talked to anyone?!” I said, “no? Should I have? What’s going on? You’re making me nervous.” He sat down and told me that the mass that was removed was, in fact, more cancer. I felt every single muscle in my body tense up and then feel like it was falling apart. I hadn’t even had my drains pulled from my “final” surgery and I’m being told I have more cancer, which meant more treatments (chemo, radiation, both?) and definitely more surgery; as all the margins were involved. This means that all the edges of the tumor that was removed, was cancerous, meaning there was still cancer cells in my body. It was a moment of true devastation. I sobbed. I was supposed to be “done”. My daughter had just asked me, the week prior, “Mommy are you all done with your medicine now?!” and I told her, “Yes, baby. Mommy is all done.” And now my journey was really just ramping back up. My nurse came back in and pulled my drains. We cried together, although at this point, I literally felt numb. I then had to hurry out, because I had chemo that day as well.
I went to my Oncology appointment, for my treatment that day, where I met with some more people on my team along with my nurses. We all cried. It felt like a true moment of defeat. I prayed and I collected myself, the best I could. I received my treatment that day, as we were still unsure of the type of cancer that was back. We all assumed it was triple negative, since I was clearly not responding to the immunotherapy for HER2+. I felt numb during that treatment. I just staired out the window, watching, wondering. I drove home that afternoon and decided how I was to go about telling the rest of my family the devastating news. It was supposed to be a happy day. Instead, I spent it telling more awful news, in tears.
We prayed and we decided we were going to go to Mayo Clinic in Rochester to continue my treatment and care. The amount of time I was dismissed and could have been treated, was unacceptable. I am young and outside of this, healthy. I have a beautiful little family and my children need their mommy. This was the greatest decision we made. Although the journey is MUCH farther, my family and I feel it was the right choice. I was seen SO quickly. They reassured me that this was a “classic case of reoccurrence” and that they were sorry it took so very long to be diagnosed. My skin was ulcerating again and opening back up. It was painful and frustrating. We went over my MRI, which looked normal and my PET scan, which there was a slight concern in my left hip bone. The following day, I had a bone biopsy done, just to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. Hearing those words – bone cancer and metastic cancer – are extremely terrifying, especially when you have two young children, waiting for their Mommy to come home and care for them. My oncologist explained to me that the difference between it being in just my breast and then my breast and my bone, is curable versus treatable. Once it’s in the bone like that, you’re no longer considered curable. Although you can still live a long time like this, it was heart breaking, because I felt as though this should have been caught such a long time ago. We prayed and we prayed that it would be normal and it was, praise Jesus!!
We started my chemotherapy that same week of initially being seen! The chemo regimen I’m currently on, is a little easier than the original two I started in the beginning, although not quite as easy as the Taxol. I’ve officially completed half of my chemotherapy down at Mayo. My skin doesn’t care for this treatment, as I get awful breakouts; but at this point, the manageable nausea, the fact that I still have my hair, and the fact that I am still CUREABLE, is AMAZING. I feel like they truly value my case and my time. After this, we will be facing surgery and radiation. We aren’t sure which one will be first yet though, as my case is a little more involved, with having had reconstruction done already, thin skin, and cancer in the skin. We know I’ll need a tissue flap to close up my newest tissue removal. This means, they’ll have to take skin from somewhere else and put it on my breast, where they remove the remaining cancer tissue. We will not be starting reconstruction right away this time; as they want to make sure everything heals correctly and that I stay cancer free. When/if we DO decide to do reconstruction, they will be using my own tissue this time, versus an implant, to recreate the breast.
Radiation is a journey of its own. At this point, we’re looking at 5-6 weeks of daily radiation. This is a little intimidating, but I trust my doctors have my best interest in mind and I will do whatever they say is best for me to live a long life with my babies. Right now, what they want to do, is called Proton radiation, but they’re quite confident that my Michigan insurance will deny this. This is extremely frustrating, because this type of radiation will preserve my young, healthy tissue, better than the Photon radiation. I will be fighting alongside my team, with the insurance, when the time comes, to hopefully get it approved. With that being said, if you could all pray that the Proton Radiation is somehow miraculously approved, I would be SO SO thankful! This part of the journey is still a way down the road yet, but it never hurts to start praying.
This journey has truly changed my outlook on life. I’ve always been a person of faith, but this has brought me so much deeper. I’ve learned to let go of the reins and allow God to guide me. I know there’s a lot of information here! Let me tell you, it’s been quite the year!!
God Bless each and every one of you. I will update again, when there’s more to tell you!
Update #3
It’s been quite some time since I’ve updated you all, so I figured I’d share what’s gone on over the last several months. I was able to start my chemo February 18th, the day after my daughter’s 5th birthday. I was so so thankful to be able to spend her day with her, healthy and happy. I was incredibly nervous going in for my first chemo visit. I asked a lot of questions and tried to stay optimistic and busy. I was so thankful to have my Mom; we laughed and sat through the many hours of my treatment. We had lunch, which still makes my stomach sick to this day just thinking about it. I *used* to love what we had; not so much anymore. By the end of my first treatment, I felt a little dizzy and tired when I left the hospital. By the time I made it home, it took everything in my power to just get to my room and away from everyone. I was so sick. My daughter tried to come and see me and I tried my very best to be “me”, but there was no hiding that Mommy was really sick. She didn’t like not being able to help me feel better. She cried and that made me feel like a horrible mom. I felt terrible for the first two days and just sick for the rest of the week. I had about 3-4 days of feeling normal, before it was time for my next round of chemo. This time, I was VERY nervous for my treatment. I prayed I wouldn’t feel the way I did after my first. By the time I left, I again felt tired and a little dizzy, but not too sick. I made it to about Michigamme before I got, what my mom described as “spacey”. I felt really tired and just off after my treatments. I would come home and crash. It was almost as if I’d taken something to help me sleep. I thankfully didn’t get sick like I did from my first treatment, so I felt good about that!
I also felt good that I still had my hair. My oncologist reassured me though that it would be falling out by Saturday. His words, “It’s almost like clockwork”. At least I was prepared; because he was right. By Saturday, I felt like garbage and my hair was in fact, falling out. I tried to just let it be, but even just touching it, made some let loose. It was very overwhelming and embarrassing. My neck was itchy, like just after a haircut and my clothes looked like I just rubbed up against a shedding dog. I knew it was time to shave it all off, once I took a shower and I clogged the drain completely. I cried as I cleaned out the drain and knew that was the last time I was going to wash my (what little bit I had left) hair for quite some time. My mom did my final shave and Alli sat in the bathroom with us and watched. I was sad, but also felt so supported. My dear friend, Angela, shaved her head with me the same day. What an amazing friend I have! It was from her strength that I found my own. I also prayed to God that it wouldn’t be painful (mentally, not so much physically). That I was more than my hair. That Christ was going to show me purpose throughout all of this.
My 3rd and 4th chemo trips resembled my second, where I felt ok for the first 2 days, just tired and then not well for about the next 7. I would just start to feel better and then I’d have to go back. It was mentally and physically taxing. The only time I felt like I wasn’t going to throw up, was when I had a little snack in my belly. Water tasted absolutely disgusting, which made the extra amount of water I was supposed to be drinking (3-4 liters a day), very difficult. I was always exhausted and trying my very best to be there for my children. I was back to work, but I’d come home and sleep, from sheer exhaustion. I was so thankful when I completed those two chemo drugs (4 cycles) and moved onto the next.
After my 4th treatment of the 2 chemo drugs, I moved onto my next – Taxol – Along with my immunotherapy drugs (my mabs – Herceptin and Perjeta). My Taxol was a chemo drug, which I received received weekly, instead of bi-weekly. That made me nervous, but I was thankful that it wasn’t nearly as hard to tolerate as the first round of chemo I had endured. My mabs were administered once every 3 weeks, but this was ongoing and was supposed to continue until March of 2021. The immunotherapy was a cake walk compared to what I’d been through with all of the other chemo meds. I noticed I still got a little worn down the first few days, but overall, it’s just a maintenance type of medication, so I didn’t get sick from them. Throughout all of this, the Covid-19 pandemic hit, and the kids were sent home from school. So, I was going through weekly chemo treatments, trying my very best to work from home, and taking care of my 2 children. It was a eventful 3 months! I was SO thankful for the few friends who were willing to watch my kids while I went to treatment, even when we were so unsure of what “health” looked like. I truly couldn’t have done it without them.
While I was receiving my Taxol, I also ended up being Neutropenic twice. That was another adventure I’d care not to do again. I had to go to the hospital to get shots 2-3 days in a row, which boosted my white blood cell production, which allowed me to proceed with my treatments. When you are neutropenic, you literally have no immune system. Maybe a blessing my kids were home and not bringing germs in?! I try to find the hidden blessings in everything. The shots made my back spasm with pain. It was quite unpleasant, to be honest. There had been very few things that have brought me to tears throughout this—but let me tell you, this was one of them. I’m thankful I only had to endure that twice.
In the midst of all of the treatment, I also started my expansion. The expansions themselves are not painful, though by just watching, you’d think it would be. Thankfully, I don’t have much feeling on my incisions yet, so it was virtually painless. The first few were not uncomfortable at all, just exciting to look and feel more like “me”. As the expansions started getting fuller though, they did start to become a little uncomfortable and tight feeling, as the skin stretched. I had my final expansion Thursday, July 23rd 2020, and I’m so very thankful for that. I was back to sleeping in the chair, because it’s just too painful to sleep in my bed, being fully expanded. The expanders felt very rigid and didn’t allow much flexibility at all. I had to keep these in place for two months, and then I was able to have the surgery to remove the expanders and replace them with normal implants. I was anxiously counting down the time (literally!), as I couldn’t wait to start a full healing process, where I could start to go back to my “normal” life.
Jumping backwards a bit, in July 2020, I had a red “spot”, right where the original tumor was located. It looked like a little cyst. It burned a bit and just looked irritated, so I went to my family doctor. He lanced and packed it and prescribed an antibiotic, since it appeared to be a cyst. After a week of no changes, I went back and he suggested I go see my cancer doctors, just to be sure. I did, in fact, go see my surgeon, just to be sure. He agreed that it looked like a cyst and I was put on a stronger antibiotic with high hopes of healing. After about a month of antibiotics, I had no changes. It was still oozing, open, and extremely painful. After several trips back and forth to my surgeon, we decided to cut it out for good. My doctor numbed it up and cut it out. Easy peasy and I couldn’t have been happier to be rid of that icky old thing. I had several stitches, because at this point it had gotten much larger in size. Well, when it came time to take the stitches out, it still wasn’t healing. It was also at this point that I asked what the pathology report said, since I hadn’t heard back and all of my chemo nurses had told me to make sure my surgeon sent my oncologist the pathology report once it came back. I was then informed that it wasn’t sent for pathology. This shocked me, as the cyst was in the exact spot that my original tumor had been. I felt incredibly nervous about this, but my surgeon reassured me that it was NOT cancer and that we were going to move forward from there. The doctor figured my body was just slow to heal with my treatments, so we put butterfly stitches over the incision for another week or so. Guess what? Still no healing. Wide open wound. LOTS of pain. And to be honest, it was starting to affect my mental health. I just wanted to be better. I couldn’t touch that side of my breast without excruciating pain. I had a WIDE open wound that drained every single day and WHOA—watch out if you bumped it, because it would bleed, bleed, bleed. I also spoke with my Oncology Doctor (Well, his PA actually, as my oncologist had been out for a few months). I requested some type of testing, since nothing had been done at this point. Biopsy? Scans? Anything? I was paranoid and starting to freak out a bit. The PA didn’t even want to look at it (as it was bandaged up, due to the wide openness and oozing) but reassured me of all the reasons it’s NOT cancer. I was starting to feel crazy and unworthy of my doctor’s time. Was I being overboard? Was I being a bother? Was it normal for someone to NOT heal? Did I have a lot lower pain tolerance than I’d always thought?
At my next visit with my surgeon, we decided it was time to do the surgery to take out the tissue expanders and place the implants. Maybe the wound wasn’t healing because my skin was being pulled so tight from my tissue expanders? My surgeon used the analogy of trying to put on a pair of jeans that were just too small. The zipper will not stay up, right? My skin was not staying closed for the same reason – was the idea. I still begged for a biopsy, just to give me that peace of mind. I so badly needed it. He told me no problem, just to remind him on the day of surgery. Done deal. SO! On November 4, 2020, the BIG DAY came! I went back for surgery, which I had been eagerly awaiting. I reminded every single person who came into my preop room, to remind the Doctor to biopsy that spot.
After surgery, I woke up, with 2 drains again. THIS was a huge bummer, but I figured, it is what it is. I might as well end with a bang, right?! The doctor said everything went well and he cleaned out that spot and sent it for pathology. I was thankful and relieved. I had a difficult time in recovery with nausea, after this surgery, so I stayed a little longer that day than planned. The nurses eventually decided it was time for me to go home. They gave me some barf bags and sent me on my way. Thank GOODNESS for such an amazing, patient, friend who drove me and wasn’t able to come in, due to Covid. We finally went home and the recovery process began. I couldn’t be happier.
A week later, I went back to my surgeon’s office to get my drains pulled. I was so excited! He came in to my room and asked if I’d talked to anyone on my team yet, in which I said no. He froze and said, “you haven’t talked to anyone?!” I said, “no? Should I have? What’s going on? You’re making me nervous.” He sat down and told me that the mass that was removed was, in fact, more cancer. I felt every single muscle in my body tense up and then feel like it was falling apart. I hadn’t even had my drains pulled from my “final” surgery and I’m being told I have more cancer, which meant more treatments (chemo, radiation, both?) and definitely more surgery; as all the margins were involved. This means that all the edges of the tumor that was removed, was cancerous, meaning there was still cancer cells in my body. It was a moment of true devastation. I sobbed. I was supposed to be “done”. My daughter had just asked me, the week prior, “Mommy are you all done with your medicine now?!” and I told her, “Yes, baby. Mommy is all done.” And now my journey was really just ramping back up. My nurse came back in and pulled my drains. We cried together, although at this point, I literally felt numb. I then had to hurry out, because I had chemo that day as well.
I went to my Oncology appointment, for my treatment that day, where I met with some more people on my team along with my nurses. We all cried. It felt like a true moment of defeat. I prayed and I collected myself, the best I could. I received my treatment that day, as we were still unsure of the type of cancer that was back. We all assumed it was triple negative, since I was clearly not responding to the immunotherapy for HER2+. I felt numb during that treatment. I just staired out the window, watching, wondering. I drove home that afternoon and decided how I was to go about telling the rest of my family the devastating news. It was supposed to be a happy day. Instead, I spent it telling more awful news, in tears.
We prayed and we decided we were going to go to Mayo Clinic in Rochester to continue my treatment and care. The amount of time I was dismissed and could have been treated, was unacceptable. I am young and outside of this, healthy. I have a beautiful little family and my children need their mommy. This was the greatest decision we made. Although the journey is MUCH farther, my family and I feel it was the right choice. I was seen SO quickly. They reassured me that this was a “classic case of reoccurrence” and that they were sorry it took so very long to be diagnosed. My skin was ulcerating again and opening back up. It was painful and frustrating. We went over my MRI, which looked normal and my PET scan, which there was a slight concern in my left hip bone. The following day, I had a bone biopsy done, just to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. Hearing those words – bone cancer and metastic cancer – are extremely terrifying, especially when you have two young children, waiting for their Mommy to come home and care for them. My oncologist explained to me that the difference between it being in just my breast and then my breast and my bone, is curable versus treatable. Once it’s in the bone like that, you’re no longer considered curable. Although you can still live a long time like this, it was heart breaking, because I felt as though this should have been caught such a long time ago. We prayed and we prayed that it would be normal and it was, praise Jesus!!
We started my chemotherapy that same week of initially being seen! The chemo regimen I’m currently on, is a little easier than the original two I started in the beginning, although not quite as easy as the Taxol. I’ve officially completed half of my chemotherapy down at Mayo. My skin doesn’t care for this treatment, as I get awful breakouts; but at this point, the manageable nausea, the fact that I still have my hair, and the fact that I am still CUREABLE, is AMAZING. I feel like they truly value my case and my time. After this, we will be facing surgery and radiation. We aren’t sure which one will be first yet though, as my case is a little more involved, with having had reconstruction done already, thin skin, and cancer in the skin. We know I’ll need a tissue flap to close up my newest tissue removal. This means, they’ll have to take skin from somewhere else and put it on my breast, where they remove the remaining cancer tissue. We will not be starting reconstruction right away this time; as they want to make sure everything heals correctly and that I stay cancer free. When/if we DO decide to do reconstruction, they will be using my own tissue this time, versus an implant, to recreate the breast.
Radiation is a journey of its own. At this point, we’re looking at 5-6 weeks of daily radiation. This is a little intimidating, but I trust my doctors have my best interest in mind and I will do whatever they say is best for me to live a long life with my babies. Right now, what they want to do, is called Proton radiation, but they’re quite confident that my Michigan insurance will deny this. This is extremely frustrating, because this type of radiation will preserve my young, healthy tissue, better than the Photon radiation. I will be fighting alongside my team, with the insurance, when the time comes, to hopefully get it approved. With that being said, if you could all pray that the Proton Radiation is somehow miraculously approved, I would be SO SO thankful! This part of the journey is still a way down the road yet, but it never hurts to start praying.
This journey has truly changed my outlook on life. I’ve always been a person of faith, but this has brought me so much deeper. I’ve learned to let go of the reins and allow God to guide me. I know there’s a lot of information here! Let me tell you, it’s been quite the year!!
God Bless each and every one of you. I will update again, when there’s more to tell you!
Organizer
Cassie Collins
Organizer
Chassell, MI