Help Debbie Defy Cancer
Donation protected
A couple of months ago I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer. The process of diagnosis, surgery, recovery, radiation and other aspects of treatment has been scary and sobering for me, and also for my family and friends. On top of all this, my husband and I are facing a mountain of medical debt. We do have insurance, but our deductibles are high and we are rapidly draining our medical savings account as the bills continue to stack up. To make matters worse, I received a job offer as I was preparing for surgery, which I had to decline because of the time and energy I needed for recovery and the scheduling demands of daily radiation therapy.
My medical expenses to-date are over $4,600 and once radiation treatment and medication costs are added, we expect to max out my individual out-of-pocket limit at $6,850. Unfortunately (and fortunately!) we don’t meet the catastrophic financial assistance guidelines at the hospital where I am receiving treatment, so we are managing the best we can. But this is a major financial hit for me and Michael, especially at a time where we are trying to save for retirement.
Several friends have urged me to start a GoFundMe and ask for your help. This is hard for me to do, but I’m so afraid of what’s happening financially. If you feel led to help and are able to do so, thank you. If not, please know that your thoughts and prayers are incredibly helpful too. All of the support we are receiving is humbling and helps us get through. I honestly don't know what we'd have done without this.
To everyone who is able to help me by donating, I’d like to thank you by sending you a set of small photographic prints. (You can see these images at the end of my story below.)
No matter what, please read my story. And when you’re through, go get your mammogram, colonoscopy, pap, annual physical—whatever it is you need to keep you healthy and to find any potential issues early. And don’t be afraid to ask someone to accompany you. Life is too precious.
Like a lot of women I know, I try keeping up with my yearly medical appointments, but sometimes life gets in the way. Last year I was dealing with anxiety and depression and kept putting off really important things. So when I finally got those things under control earlier this year, with the help of my husband and close friends, I started ticking things off my to-do list, like my getting long overdue mammogram.
When I got a phone call asking me to come back in for more film, I had this sense of foreboding, but kept telling myself to stop borrowing trouble. But after the second set of mammograms, as I was ushered right into the doctor of pathology’s office, I thought, “Oh sh*t. This isn’t good.” I tried to listen carefully to everything the doctor said, despite wanting to just cry. I would need a biopsy because my films showed little calcifications that could mean all sorts of things, including cancer, though this was the least likely possibility.
Within a week I underwent what’s called a stereotactic guided biopsy of my left breast, which is basically having a large needle inserted into the breast to remove a sample of tissue while undergoing multiple mammograms. While it caused me no initial pain, it was scary. The doctor and two wonderfully kind, calm techs literally held my hands, kept me calm, and talked me through everything they were doing.
Three days later the doctor called and as I stood at my kitchen counter, clutching a pen and random envelope I’d grabbed to take notes, gently told me I had stage 0 DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ). It’s a fancy way of saying I had a tumor inside my milk duct(s) that they hoped hadn’t yet escaped into other parts of my body. For a few minutes I could barely breathe and felt lightheaded. I kept asking her to repeat what she said as she patiently answered my questions and walked me through next steps as I furiously scribbled down notes.
On March 29, just one month after my initial mammogram, I had a wire inserted along the tumor to guide my surgeon as she performed a partial mastectomy (also called a lumpectomy). Although it was thought my tumor was under a ½”, it turned out that my surgeon had to do two passes that day and removed a tumor that was actually over 1¾”! Pathology tests determined that my cancer was aggressive and surely would have spread had I not gotten in when I did.
I’ve been recovering for the past month and on May 6, began four weeks of daily radiation treatments (M–F) to decrease the chances of the cancer returning in either breast. The side effects are likely to be minor to severe skin irritation, rashes and burns, and moderate to severe fatigue. I’m told that the worst of this will be in the 7–10 days immediately following the final treatment and that I should think about taking some time off work at that point.
Once I’m through with radiation, I will take tamoxifen for the next 5 years. Tamoxifen is a medication that blocks estrogen (the lifeblood of DCIS) from reaching cancer cells. The hope is that everything I’ve done to rid my body of cancer will keep it from recurring.
Thank you for reading my story. Now please, go take care of yourself!
My medical expenses to-date are over $4,600 and once radiation treatment and medication costs are added, we expect to max out my individual out-of-pocket limit at $6,850. Unfortunately (and fortunately!) we don’t meet the catastrophic financial assistance guidelines at the hospital where I am receiving treatment, so we are managing the best we can. But this is a major financial hit for me and Michael, especially at a time where we are trying to save for retirement.
Several friends have urged me to start a GoFundMe and ask for your help. This is hard for me to do, but I’m so afraid of what’s happening financially. If you feel led to help and are able to do so, thank you. If not, please know that your thoughts and prayers are incredibly helpful too. All of the support we are receiving is humbling and helps us get through. I honestly don't know what we'd have done without this.
To everyone who is able to help me by donating, I’d like to thank you by sending you a set of small photographic prints. (You can see these images at the end of my story below.)
No matter what, please read my story. And when you’re through, go get your mammogram, colonoscopy, pap, annual physical—whatever it is you need to keep you healthy and to find any potential issues early. And don’t be afraid to ask someone to accompany you. Life is too precious.
Like a lot of women I know, I try keeping up with my yearly medical appointments, but sometimes life gets in the way. Last year I was dealing with anxiety and depression and kept putting off really important things. So when I finally got those things under control earlier this year, with the help of my husband and close friends, I started ticking things off my to-do list, like my getting long overdue mammogram.
When I got a phone call asking me to come back in for more film, I had this sense of foreboding, but kept telling myself to stop borrowing trouble. But after the second set of mammograms, as I was ushered right into the doctor of pathology’s office, I thought, “Oh sh*t. This isn’t good.” I tried to listen carefully to everything the doctor said, despite wanting to just cry. I would need a biopsy because my films showed little calcifications that could mean all sorts of things, including cancer, though this was the least likely possibility.
Within a week I underwent what’s called a stereotactic guided biopsy of my left breast, which is basically having a large needle inserted into the breast to remove a sample of tissue while undergoing multiple mammograms. While it caused me no initial pain, it was scary. The doctor and two wonderfully kind, calm techs literally held my hands, kept me calm, and talked me through everything they were doing.
Three days later the doctor called and as I stood at my kitchen counter, clutching a pen and random envelope I’d grabbed to take notes, gently told me I had stage 0 DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ). It’s a fancy way of saying I had a tumor inside my milk duct(s) that they hoped hadn’t yet escaped into other parts of my body. For a few minutes I could barely breathe and felt lightheaded. I kept asking her to repeat what she said as she patiently answered my questions and walked me through next steps as I furiously scribbled down notes.
On March 29, just one month after my initial mammogram, I had a wire inserted along the tumor to guide my surgeon as she performed a partial mastectomy (also called a lumpectomy). Although it was thought my tumor was under a ½”, it turned out that my surgeon had to do two passes that day and removed a tumor that was actually over 1¾”! Pathology tests determined that my cancer was aggressive and surely would have spread had I not gotten in when I did.
I’ve been recovering for the past month and on May 6, began four weeks of daily radiation treatments (M–F) to decrease the chances of the cancer returning in either breast. The side effects are likely to be minor to severe skin irritation, rashes and burns, and moderate to severe fatigue. I’m told that the worst of this will be in the 7–10 days immediately following the final treatment and that I should think about taking some time off work at that point.
Once I’m through with radiation, I will take tamoxifen for the next 5 years. Tamoxifen is a medication that blocks estrogen (the lifeblood of DCIS) from reaching cancer cells. The hope is that everything I’ve done to rid my body of cancer will keep it from recurring.
Thank you for reading my story. Now please, go take care of yourself!
Fundraising team (2)
Debbie Ballou Sladek
Organizer
Sammamish, WA
Michael Sladek
Team member