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was absorbing everyone’s stress and
walking backwards across the floor to
only stand in front of the wall and lick
it for hours. I stood and watched all of
this go down and inside I was laughing
because it was an absolute circus going
on and I had a front row seat. My life.
Lord help me. It was here that I came
to the conclusion that I needed to pull
it together and be the stable one for
everyone I love. You see cancer doesn’t
impact only the person diagnosed.
When someone gets cancer the whole
family and support system gets cancer.
Everyone is traumatized, everyone
is grieving, everyone is scared and
everyone is hoping for the best.
It was the longest afternoon possible
and it was pouring rain. That’s a
nice depressing setting for a cancer
diagnosis, don’t you think? We all
just kept busy kind of operating
independently of each other. When we
left the house, Darin wanted to drive
and couldn’t figure out where he was
going and he refuses to use windshield
wipers, even though it’s raining. I
kept reaching over and turning them
on and just wanted to scream as we
hit every. single. red. light. possible. I
hadn’t learned yet how to “let things
go” as I mentioned at the beginning of
this blog so, I might have had a minor
fit in the car.
When it was time to meet with the
Dr. I was shaking and sick to my
stomach. I don’t really remember
that appointment. But, one thing that
I did pick up on was that it looked
like my Dr. had been crying before
she came into the consultation room.
Either that or she had a cold, but she
definitely didn’t seem to have a cold.
She informed me that I had Paget’s
Disease and we had to start the hard
conversations about treatment and
balancing decisions carefully with my
pregnancy. I have the type of cancer
that is almost always associated with
additional tumors in the breast. I also
have the type of cancer that on average
is diagnosed in women around 57 and
only makes up for about 3% (if that) of
cancers. There is little to no research
on Paget’s. I find out that I need an
ultrasound to detect more cancer in my
breast and then we’d need to make a
decision from there, on what we need
to do in terms of treatment. I am sick to
my stomach that I am even having the
conversation yet weirdly focused at the
same time. I wonder if I am going to
have to terminate my pregnancy? Then
the worry sets in that I may possibly be
leaving behind two small children, and
how that is NOT an option.
I come home, still in shock but feel
good that we’re moving forward
with a plan, even though I have no
idea what that is yet. I do know that
a mastectomy is my best choice and
if I want to live, that is what I need to
do. We have a discussion in my living
room with my family on the prognosis
and everyone seems relieved. My
parents decide to go back to Elko the
next day and I agreed that I would go
to my ultrasound alone to detect the
additional cancer and I would be fine.
Our neighbors, Mike and Mariluz
come over for dinner that night.
Mariluz can’t stop crying. I am still
watching everyone’s reaction, yet
not having one yet. Since breaking
down when I first got the news, I
have not shed a single tear. It is like
I am watching all these people go
through emotional pain and I have
yet to connect the pieces that they are
crying for me. We eat dinner in the
living room and hang out. They both
look and seem very concerned. I love
them like they are my family and have
that weird reaction again where I can’t
connect emotionally because I feel like
I need to be strong for others around
me.
I sent a text to my boss that night
asking to meet the following day
because I was going to report back to
school in a few weeks. Trying to figure
out how I was going to balance all this
news and be a counselor to middle
schoolers was overwhelming me. How
was I going to pull that off? I was
shaking so badly I could hardly type.
I kept changing my response so that it
wouldn’t scare or lead anyone to think
anything really bad.
This is where a turning point for me
happened and I started my journey of
“letting it go”. I started worrying over
sharing this information with people
who needed to know, like my bosses.
I then started to worry about hurting
feelings of those who weren’t going to
hear the news from me directly like
family, co-workers, friends, yet I was
starting to have anxiety over having to
share what was happening repeatedly.
It was getting to the point, where I
wanted to just deal with it and move
forward. It seemed like the reaction I
was getting from everyone was so bad
Allison was pregnant with baby Simone when she underwent a mastectomy upon being
diagnosed with a rare form of breast cancer