Meet Kim: Our First Survivor Story
Kim is a reigning boobie queen – she's got a crown and a larger than life personality that leaves each room she enters brighter and full of laughter.
Kim went in to see her doctor at the height of COVID-19, and in a time of uncertainty for everyone, Kim’s uncertainty about her own future was intensified by her cancer diagnosis. She knew by the way the doctor was talking that it was breast cancer – every sense in her body was prepared to hear the words, “Kim has cancer.” Her instincts did not steer her wrong, as she came to learn that she had triple negative metaplastic spindle cell carcinoma.
The unfortunate part of Kim’s diagnosis is that she has a form of breast cancer that affects less than 1% of all invasive breast cancers. Her form of cancer is so rare that her own doctors were confused at the sight of her breast cancer. It wasn’t until her second pathology results came in that she gained a full understanding of her condition. The unknowing portion on both sides for Kim and her doctors caused frustration, but not hopelessness.
“Cancer is just part of the game [of life],” Kim noted, and she chooses life over fear. She could be skittish and panicky and anxiety ridden, but Kim finds it is better to sit down, enjoy a banana split sundae from the local ice cream joint around the corner, and calmly answer to cancer’s requests. She also watched her brother bravely battle lung cancer – a life event that gave her strength and courage in her own fight. Her brother, however, had less support around him than Kim. Kim’s husband, who she celebrates near 30 years of marriage with, is her primary caretaker and hand to hold. She also has a huge network made up of colleagues, friends, and close family members including her sister and daughter.
Surgery has been the most painful part of her journey so far, and she empathizes with those who receive mastectomies and reconstruction. Her lumpectomy and bilateral breast reduction left her breasts feeling tender for what felt like never-ending days. She fights the normal fatigue and chemo-brain that might get her down, but definitely not out.
One thing Kim is missing? Support groups and the ability to speak to her breast cancer sisters. When I spoke with Kim, she explained that the nature of COVID-19 made support groups nonexistent, and she resorts to spiraling down the Google rabbit hole. Information on the web becomes overwhelming and difficult to understand, and she misses being able to ask questions to others. COVID-19 threw Kim an extra curveball as she was thrown into learning how to adapt to her new breast cancer reality, and on top of this, adapt to a breast cancer reality in a global pandemic. She wishes more for a life that allows her to socialize with her friends without being in fear, or to be able to safely pick up her favorite ice cream, coffee or caramel flavors, at the grocery store.
This support is invaluable to survivors, as is having people to talk to about treatment options. In a restaurant, when you’re uncertain about something being served to you – you ask the server a question about the item. It is not any different when receiving medical treatment – if you’re unsure about treatment options or feel uneasy, express these feelings with your doctor and medical team before they proceed.
“Doctors aren’t God,” she says, “So ask questions and speak up for yourself.” Being in the doctor’s office alone has also made things increasingly difficult, as other members who attend your appointments with you often hear things you might miss out on. Keeping a medical journal is something we suggest, especially now, in these trying times of living during a pandemic. When it comes to living with cancer, Kim notes it is important not to panic, and keep the faith in your cancer team the best you can.
She also notes that curling up in a ball, crying it out, and releasing all of your emotions is normal and totally acceptable, as long as you’re careful not to stay crying in the corner. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and tap into your inner strength to move on. But if you need your caretaker to go on a milkshake run, send them on their way and don’t let them come back until they have it (whipped cream on top, of course).
She isn’t out of the fire yet. Kim is ready to go tackle radiation head on, where she will receive treatment five times per week for 5 weeks and 9 more Taxol treatments. This will take her to the end of 2020, and she will stride into the new year ready for more, and always, a queen.