Juggling Gratitude and Luck

I was diagnosed with Stage II cerivcal adenocarcinoma just before Christmas in 2015, caused by HPV 16. Lots of people remember the date they heard those words. I don’t. I remember the fear, the disbelief, the questions, the pounding feeling in my head, and the instinct to run, far, far away. Just keep running away so this would never catch me.

October 5 will mark my five year anniversary of NED (no evidence of disease) diagnosis. I have been waiting for this day, this special marker in the cancer world, since I heard those three words, “You have cancer.” I imagined this day multiple times throughout the years. In my imagination it would be a day of huge celebrations, with a big party with my friends and family to commenorate this huge milestone. It would be a day where I would finally feel relief from the constant worry of recurrence. It would be the day my life went back to “normal” and I could magically turn back into the “pre-cancer-me .”

I was wrong.  

This day comes with many mixed emotions for me. When I was diagnosed, I thought I would go through treatment, recover, move on and never look back. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

I went through the treatments, the chemo, the external radiation, the internal radiation. Treatments that made me so sick I couldn’t work, couldn’t take care of my children, couldn’t do simple tasks like walk up the stairs or eat a small meal. Treatments that took away my fertility and put me into menopause at age 36. I went through countless side effects, including an allergic reaction to chemo, stents being placed in both ureters, a radical hysterectomy, reconstructive bladder surgery, not to mention the daily side effects I still currently deal with. These treatments almost broke me. There were many times I wanted to give up, throw in the towel and declare cancer as the winner.  It is only because of my children that I didn’t do that.

Once I had finally gotten through the treatments for cervical cancer, and hit the one year mark, I was excited. I was on the right track, moving forward. I began to get more involved with Cervivor and advocacy. I began embracing my story and sharing it with anyone who would listen. Then I got the news that I never, ever expected to hear.

I was diagnosed with pre-cancerous lesions on my vaginal wall. A new and different type of cancer, still caused by HPV.  Never, not once, did I imagine I would be dealing with a second, even more rare type of pre-cancerous lesions.  It hit me like a ton of bricks. And yet, with my new found support system through Cervivor, I felt I could handle it. I would do chemo again. I would change my diet and eat zero carbs and zero sugar to help curb the growth of these lesions. I was a woman on a mission and no one could stop me.

Two months later, after treatments, the lesions were gone but the relief still didn’t come. I went to each six month appointment expecting the worst. I became a basket case every six months, for the week leading up to my appointments and for the following week waiting for the results. I was basically incapacitated.  

I was lucky. For the next four years I had clear exams. At my four year appointment, my oncologist told me she didn’t need to see me in six months and that I could wait a full year until my next exam. I felt like this was a huge milestone.  She wasn’t worried, so I could let my guard, just a little bit.

I was wrong, again.

My five year exam revealed that once again I have lesions on my vaginal wall. This time it has wrecked me. The chemo has been very difficult, painful and exhausting. I feel like I have the flu all the time. My anxiety is through the roof, and my physical and emotional stability are precarious, at best. 

And I am still coming up on five years free from cervical cancer. I have so much to be grateful for and to celebrate.  I have not had a recurrence of cervical cancer, which means I most likely won’t. I have two beautiful children and a supportive, adoring husband. My family is amazing and continues to lift me up when I fall. My mom, in particular, is there whenever I need her, day or night, near or far, she is always there for me.  

I am grateful for the way that cancer changed me. It gave me a new purpose in my life, I have been able to lobby with ACSCAN in both California and Washington D.C. I have met the bravest, kindest, most caring women in the world, through Cervivor. Women I never would have met, had it not been for the “exclusive club,” that we were all forced to join. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought possible and that my voice and my story matter.  These are all things to celebrate.  

And yet here I sit. Tears streaming down my face.  

I am crying for what I have had to go through. For what my family, my husband and my children have had to go through. And for what we all continue to go through with this round of lesions and chemo. I am crying for the fear that I still have, and will always have, about my future. I am crying for the women I know who weren’t as lucky as I am, and didn’t get to see their five year mark. Because that’s what it boils down to. Luck. Women with the same diagnosis and treatment, and some of us survive and others do not. No one isn’t fighting as hard as they can. None of us leave anything on the table when it comes to this fight against cancer and HPV. Some of us are just lucky, and luck is a very hard thing to celebrate.  

Ana & Jeff

My five year cervical cancer NED anniversary is a conundrum of mixed emotions. I am both optimistic and fearful about my future. I am sad and in a constant state of sorrow for what I have had to endure, and for what others have had to endure, and for the luck of the draw. And yet, I am grateful. So, so, grateful. The amazing thing about being human is that we can hold all of these things at one time. 

So, here’s to five years. In honor of my journey I ask that today you live your best life. Do something that brings you joy, hug those you are close to, and reach out to those who are far away. I ask that you please make your appointments for your Pap and HPV tests, and most of all that you vaccinate your sons and daughters against HPV.

Ana is mother of two, wife, educator and Cervivor Ambassador. She was diagnosed with cervical adenocarcinoma at age 35 and has been diagnosed twice with vaginal lesions, caused by HPV. Ana is currently finishing chemotherapy treatment for these lesions. Her goal is that no woman feels alone when they receive a cervical cancer diagnosis and that her generation be the last to to deal with HPV related cancers.

Brain Surgery and Radiation/Full Update from Lizzi

Recovery was a bit harder than I expected, especially coupled with chemo. I’m so thankful we had family here at all times to help with me and our little guy.  I did develop what’s called radiation somnolence. It felt like narcolepsy, I’d fall asleep doing anything. I’d taken to paint by numbers to keep me busy and my loved ones were constantly finding me asleep with paint brushes in my hand, it was pretty funny. And, apparently, I was just out of it. I’d fall asleep in any position. From surgery, I still have some trouble typing and need a cane to keep me on the straight and narrow, but continue to improve. I have trouble finding words sometimes still.

Now onto the full update. I was rehospitalized after my second chemo for a fever of 104! So, I missed trick-or-treating (major

My sister and I at chemo enjoying lunch.

bummer) but I was so out of it I kept forgetting. I did have a chest CT which showed minor pneumonia so I was bombarded with antibiotics. Unfortunately, the CT went low enough to incidentally show my liver. They found teeny tiny metastasis there. Everything (good news I guess) is tiny; scans like PET’s hadn’t caught them (PETs resolution is about a pencil eraser, these are too small) so now we know they are there to treat too. I’ve finished 3 cycles of Carboplatin/Taxol (I hadn’t had the Avastin due to potential effects to the irradiated blood vessels in my head), I’ve also had 2 blood transfusions in the process due to low red blood cells.

I saw my oncologist before my last chemo and he decided to change my regimen. My CA-125 (cancer marker) crept up between treatments and he wasn’t comfortable holding out on the Carbo/Taxol/Avastin routine so we are switching to a Cisplatin/Gemzar/Avastin cocktail. I’ll probably feel better (Woohoo) and grow my hair back. I had my first dose of Cisplatin/Avastin. I’d had the Cisplatin 2 years ago when I was originally treated, will start Gemzar next week (it wasn’t in yet) and slept like a baby last night, sleeping is hard during normal hours for me during cancer treatment! Naps, however, are easy! If you are in treatment and having trouble with it, with pain, anything DON’T be afraid to tell you Dr. I wasted weeks keeping things to myself which only hurt me. So be your own advocate, please!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS from our family to yours. We are working on Wayne’s “Cheese” smile! But I did have enough energy to go with my dad and hubby to cut a Christmas tree!

We are getting back in touch with MD Anderson to see if they have more tricks up their sleeve. In the interim, I’m still not my full self but know I will be soon. This felt like the first blow but my oncologist just says it’s like a shovel and sand, the previous treatment was working and we were getting the sand out (my two palpable lymph nodes are gone) we’re just looking for a bigger shovel and we’ll find it. I like him a lot and I know we’ll find it.

Read Lizzi’s original post here.