Pinktober Profiles: October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. For my part in raising awareness, I’m going to profile a survivor, previvor or caretaker each day. As part of the breast cancer community, I’ve been blessed to hear so many stories of strength, perseverance, hope, struggle, survival, and courage. To me, those stories bring real awareness about this disease. The women I profile this month honor me in allowing me to write their story. Please join me in celebrating them and share their stories widely!
October 3, 2014
Breast cancer was the last thing on Melissa Bolton's mind in January 2013. She was busy caring for her family, including her 6 month old son, Morgan, who'd just decided he was done nursing, when she found a lump the size of a grape in her breast, near her nipple. Assuming it was a clogged duct, she tried to clear it using her breast pump. When it didn't clear after an hour of pumping, Melissa chalked it up to a stubborn duct, attributed it to hormonal changes, and decided to wait it out. In March, it seemed slightly larger, so she decided to contact her ob/gyn. A nurse at the practice felt the suspicious lump and scheduled a mammogram and ultrasound as soon as possible. At that point, Melissa knew it could have been several things. Surely, it wasn't cancer. She worked to keep the "what ifs" at bay, but then there was all the waiting...
First the short wait for the radiology appointment. Then there was the waiting between the mammogram and the ultrasound, about an hour, during which Melissa sat in what equates to a closet with a curtain, nothing but old magazines and some crazy old lady shrieking in the closet next door to entertain her. Needless to say, her nerves were shot. More waiting after the ultrasound images were taken (to confirm they'd gotten all the images they needed), and then Melissa was sent home to wait for a call from her doctor. When the doctor called, noting "suspicious areas" in the images, Melissa was referred to a breast surgeon. She ended up having a biopsy that day, even though she hadn't known that would happen. That was followed by more waiting. She'd have her biopsy results the next evening.
Melissa called on a dear friend to help her get through the wait. She was expecting a call at 5:30, but the phone didn't ring. Minutes crept by slowly. Then, at 5:45, her breast surgeon called with bad news. Melissa had two tumors, one was cancerous (Invasive Ductal Carcinoma), the other precancerous, and she was scheduled for surgery to remove her breast. Her friend, Stephanie, hugged her tight, held her hand and cried with her until her husband got home that night. She leaned on him while a million thoughts ran through her mind. "Why? I'm not ready! I'm only 36. How do I tell my 7-year old?"
Maybe some people take it for granted, but Melissa was well aware of just how important her breasts had been in her life. They'd been part of what felt beautiful, intimate, womanly. They nurtured her children. Just before surgery, Melissa remembers having time to really think about the impact of this loss while she time waiting for the uptake of the sentinel node dye. This would be the last time she would see herself as she'd always been.
Surgery went well, aside from a nasty reaction to the pain medication which gave Melissa hives and made her itchy from head to toe. Her sentinel node had looked clear, and she was home the next day, on her way to recovery. Then came a call with more bad news. 2 nodes were actually positive. She was now stage 2b, and would have more surgery the following week to remove the rest of the nodes. It felt like "a punch to the gut," she recalls. And she wasn't prepared for what happened after the nodes were removed. The back of her upper arm was numb, her chest was numb, and the few areas that had feeling experienced a strange nerve pain which made her jump when touched. She got lymphedema, which meant swelling, physical therapy, compression sleeves, manual lymph drainage, pumps. She also had bad reactions to medications she needed to take, like Tamoxifen, Lupron, and Femara. "Even though the mastectomy was bad," she says, she feels lucky to not have needed chemo or radiation. The hardest part is the waiting, she says. "Patience is a virtue, and it gets tested!" Waiting for appointments and test results that determine the next step is a necessary evil in this process. One that surely tries the "patients."
Awareness Tidbit: Lymphedema can happen at any point after the removal (or blockage) of lymph nodes. These nodes play an important role in clearing bacteria from the body through a network of delicate vessels that carry fluid from infections and wound sites through the lymphatic system. Heat, burns, bites, cuts, and rashes can aggrivate lymphedema, causing swelling of the soft tissues throughout the affected limb.
Two things really stand out for Melissa when she reflects on her cancer journey. First is that her husband was her rock through it all. He was her "superhero." She says "He was my biggest support, helper, tear-wiper, listener. He was my everything." Melissa knows the help of her close family and friends helped her through this ordeal. Second is how her relationship with her step dad prepared them both for their battles with cancer. Melissa's step dad was diagnosed with stage 4 throat cancer the day her son Morgan was born. Right as Melissa was gearing up for the battle of her life, she got news that her step dad was now diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. They'd worked hard, throughout her life, showing horses and competing in shows, including competing with the MSU Equestrian team. They'd worked hard to win in the past, and now they would work hard to fight and win against cancer, together.
Melissa has a lot of great advice for anyone facing cancer:
- Keep a positive attitude, but know it's ok to be upset, cry, be pissed off at the world, laugh, be happy.
- Talk when you feel like it.
- Ask for and accept help.
- Reach out to one of the many wonderful support organizations. Melissa loves the people she's met through the Pink Heals organization and knows the special bonds that develop between survivors, fighters and the taken.
- Music can be healing.
- Hugs are awesome.
- Just know that "every little thing will be alright."
Now 38, with 5 surgeries down and 1 more to go (the majority of which have been related to reconstruction), Melissa has taken up running, which she finds very therapeutic. She says she's not fast, but she is determined. Come out and cheer Melissa on at the Run for the Ta Tas 5k tomorrow at Mayfaire Towne Center in Wilmington. While your at it, send some extra thoughts and prayers for her step dad who's been struggling with his latest round of chemo. He's been fighting cancer for 2 1/2 years and he won't give up until it's gone!
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