Naturally, only I would go from zero posts about this directly to a blog and fundraiser. But today is TNBC day and, for the month of March, 100% of donations go directly to research for Triple Negative Breast Cancer.

Last July, after a routine mammogram and a core biopsy on a cluster of chest wall calcifications that I never would have found on my own, I was diagnosed with what was thought to be DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (pron. ‘sigh-too’), which is a very treatable, albeit taxing, subtype of breast cancer. As you can imagine, I followed no one’s advise and instead took up residency inside the google machine for research purposes. “Well thank god it’s not triple negative”, I thought. Whatever that was. Prior to my diagnosis, I knew very little about breast cancer, let alone the subtypes. Before taking any action, I thought it made sense to get a second opinion from Dana Farber. Shortly thereafter, August 31st to be exact, I got the call. “It’s actually invasive ductal carcinoma,” said the doctor. “And it’s hormone receptor negative…” “So it’s triple negative.” I interrupted ( I was basically a doctor at this point). “It is triple negative. I’m sorry.” She said. Her words are forever burned into my brain. Totally blacked out for the rest of the call, fell to my knees and sobbed. Compared to other breast cancer subtypes, TNBC is highly invasive and has a high early recurrence rate. Patients often relapse within 5 years after surgery, with a very poor overall prognosis. Due to negative expression of hormones ER, PR, and HER2, TNBC is insensitive to endocrine treatment and targeted therapies. Only very limited treatment regimens are available for TNBC, with generally poor efficacy. New therapies are urgently needed. I went from a “very treatable cancer” to triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma, stage 1a, grade 3.

Message #1: Mammograms save lives. I do NOT have the BRCA gene mutation, I’m not a person of color (common for TNBC) and I’m a relatively healthy, active person. This type of breast cancer diagnosis was shocking. I’ll never know how or why. If you’d like to learn more, studies through National Library of Medicine were my go-to and helped me walk into my oncologist’s office ready to converse and concur, way too impressed with myself.

In the weeks that followed, I discussed my options with my team of surgeons and oncologists all the while living with the unrelenting loneliness that comes with a deadly cancer diagnosis. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It is NEXT level. Imagine mourning everyone you love all at once, not because they are leaving, but because you are. My kids would be talking to me and my brain couldn’t compute. I would just look at their faces and wonder how much more time I have with them. Because that’s what my brain does.

Message #2: Some of my earliest supporters were survivors. When survivors take the time to share their story and extend their support, it’s such gift to someone in the thick of it. Thank god for my family and friends throughout everything. But almost immediately, I felt desperate to talk to someone who had been exactly where I was. I was lucky to have survivors share their stories with me. So in return, I am showing up for anyone in my life or yours that might someday, in turn, need me.

After the most thorough deliberation with literally no stone left unturned, I chose my path and finally felt like I could breathe. After a lumpectomy and sentinel lymph node biopsy followed by a promising pathology report of clean margins and nodes, my oncologist told me I didn’t require chemo. In fact, it was not medically recommended as the risks outweighed the benefits. Not having chemo is unheard of with TNBC. “We don’t find cancer this small,” my oncologist said.Those words also burned into my brain. That was a great day. Alas, I knew the lumpectomy was a package deal and moved forward with 20 days of radiation treatment. They played Phoebe Bridgers every day as I laid there and pushed my heart and lungs out of the way with repeated 15 second deep breath holds during the radiation. As of December 4th, my treatment was complete and I am now in remission. As it turns out, treatment was the easier part of this deal. It’s the end of treatment where you feel like you’re falling off a cliff. So I’ll be working on living for the rest of my life. 40% of TNBC patients have a rapid recurrence of the disease within 3 years, so I have good moments and bad. I try to replace my thoughts. Focus on the 60% who don’t get sick again. Sometimes, something triggers me and I have no choice but to panic and cry but I do consider the perspective gained from this experience to be a gift. Nowadays I’m much more likely to say yes than no, especially to my kids.

Message #3 Say yes and live your life day to day. Don’t zoom out too far. You don’t know what life will throw at you, good or bad, so live your best life right now.

The Triple Negative Breast Cancer Foundation is committed to funding breakthrough research to support the discovery of promising new treatments for TNBC patients. Since their inception in 2006, they have awarded over three million dollars to major research institutions working toward a targeted therapy for triple negative breast cancer.

Please consider donating to help find a cure.