PERSPECTIVE

By CAREY WATTERS/Guest columnist

Editor’s note: This is part two of a two-part series. Part one published last Wednesday.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I’m writing this to encourage young women to be aware of changes in their bodies by performing monthly breast exams. I can’t express strongly enough the importance of early detection. As a 35-year-old mother of three, I know that if I had waited until I was the “infamous” age of 40 to get a mammogram, I wouldn’t be here to tell my story.

God embraces you
Friday afternoon, Barry picked me up and we headed to the office. We waited on the couch in the surgeon’s office. Dr. H. came in and as he sat down on his desk, he said what I already knew. “It’s cancer.” I knew, right? My husband eyes filled with tears and he began asking all kinds of questions. I, however, felt like Dr. H. was talking to someone sitting beside me even though we were the only ones in the office. I kept thinking, “Wow, someone has breast cancer. I know he’s not talking to me because there is absolutely no breast cancer in my family. I wonder if she’ll have chemotherapy? Will she lose her hair?” I don’t believe in out-of-body experiences, but I honestly felt like I was a fly on the wall witnessing a horrible conversation. The reality was that God was there with his arms around me, protecting me and guiding me through this nightmare.
When I finally realized that I needed to say something, I began asking questions about what would happen next. What type of surgery? Almost immediately, I decided I wanted a bilateral mastectomy. Take them both off! I never want this to happen to me again. I have three young children to live for. I have a husband who loves me and parents who need me. Dr. H. didn’t want me to make any rash decisions. He set me up for an MRI and with a plastic surgeon for a reconstruction consultation. I also needed to consult with an oncologist. What? Yes, more than likely chemotherapy would be in my near future. He told me that I would lose my hair but that it would probably come back—gray and curly! Ha!
We went home to my parents and children. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. I needed to be brave for my family. I was going to fight this cancer with my faith in God and with both fists. I was not going to take it lying down and cancer was not going to take me away from the people I love most in the world.
My parents promised to help me through this, with the kids, with the traveling back and forth to appointments. Whatever I needed, they’d be there for me. My daughter, just 9 years old, asked me about losing my hair. I told her it was a good possibility, but we wouldn’t know what kind of treatment I would have until after the surgery. She asked me about it a few more times through dinner. I could tell it was really bothering her but she wasn’t crying. I plopped down on the couch about an hour later. Lindsey came over and laid her head on my chest and began to sob. It was the most gut-wrenching moment of my life. How can I explain this to her? How can I help her and my boys and my family through this? I have to be brave. Please, God, guide me.
God gives you peace
Overnight, I made my decision permanent. I wanted a bilateral mastectomy for sure. I expressed my decision with several friends, family and co-workers. The response was mixed. Some said they would never take their breasts off. Other said they didn’t blame me. All I knew was that even if the left breast was healthy, my mind was made up and I had peace.
I went for my MRI the next week. Honestly, this test was much more uncomfortable than the mammogram. You lie on the table with your breasts hanging down in these holes. I was still sore from the biopsy, and I couldn’t move an inch. I couldn’t wait to get up. Both technicians, younger than I, promised me that they would begin checking themselves. One had already experienced some problems but hadn’t been back to the doctor. I hope I encouraged her to go.
At the second meeting with my oncologist, she had the MRI results. She told me that nothing showed on my left breast but the tumor on my right breast was huge. She said I had no choice but to have a right mastectomy. (Glad I already had peace about that decision). She also told me that seven out of 10 of the biopsy samples Dr. H. had taken were cancer. Surprised that it was worse than we thought, I couldn’t wait to get my breasts removed. My oncologist said we’d discuss treatments after surgery.
God lets humor help you (part one)
My surgery was on June 22, 2007. An angel, a sweet lady from my church, was my pre-op nurse. Mary was so good to me. I must have gone to the bathroom 17 times. I asked Mary if I could keep my underwear on. She said, “Honey, if you want to keep them on, then keep them on!“ So, I did.
God guides doctors
I took a picture of my three precious children into surgery with me. I remember Dr. H talking to me as I was going under, and I told him not to let me die. No pressure on the good doctor, I’m sure! I trusted him and even more so, I trusted God. I’m not quite sure why I said that. Maybe it was the drugs. My anesthesiologist was a friend from high school who I know has the same faith and trust in God that I do. She was with me too, the whole time, except for the time she went out to my family with updates. After about four hours, Dr. H called the waiting room. The bad news was that my tumor had metastasized. My mom lost it after hearing those words. When Barry took the phone, he cleared up the message. The cancer had just moved to one lymph node, and Dr. H. had removed the whole string. Thank you, God for guiding Dr. H. through this difficult day. Thank you for holding my family up.
God lets humor help you (part two)
One of the first things I remember after getting to my room was waking up to Dr. H’s voice explaining the details of my surgery to my husband and parents. I was trying my best to wake up when I realized something was missing. I lay there very quietly trying to concentrate through my morphine mind on what he was saying. That’s when he looked intensely at me and asked if I had any questions. Without hesitation, I asked him where my panties were. The look on his face was priceless. My parents and Barry looked at me like I was an alien. The kind doctor, trying not to laugh too hard, said, “I have no idea…I didn’t work on that end!”  A much-needed burst of laughter filled the room and the endorphins released all the tension from the day!
God never lets you down
After a two-day stay in the hospital, I got to go home to my babies. I was really sore but couldn’t wait to see them. Three sweethearts took such good care of me. What blessings from God.
I had to go to the oncologist the very next day. Mom took me and we were anxiously waiting for the doctor to come in. When she came in, she checked my drains, my incisions, my reflexes. Everything she needed to do before discussing my case. She turned around to my chart and sighed. “Carey, you definitely made the right decision to have both breasts removed. We found a small hidden tubular cancer in your left breast. It was a different type than the right and one that hides until it’s in the advanced stages.”
I told her that even though the tests had shown a healthy left breast, God knew it was there, and that’s why I had peace about my decision. He gave me peace!
She agreed with me and went on to tell me that I had stage three cancer in the right side and stage one in the left. Chemotherapy and radiation were in my future, as well as a year of immunotherapy since my tumor was HER2/Neu positive, meaning it was extremely aggressive.
God is in control
God sent my 2-year-old son into bed with me that morning to save my life. Early detection is the key to surviving breast cancer. I encourage women as young as 16 to do self breast exams. Know your body. Know if there are changes and if so, see your doctor. I wouldn’t be here if I had waited until 40 to get a mammogram.
I’ve undergone six of my eight chemo treatments. Yes, they are disgusting. There have been times when I’ve crawled into bed not to get out again for days. My hair is long gone. I’ve had weeks when my blood counts have been rock bottom. I won’t deny that there have been days when I’ve wanted to just quit. But when I think of my beautiful children, I fight. When I think about my husband and parents and family, I fight. When I think about all the children and multitudes of men and women out there facing cancer of some type, I fight. When I think about my God who is in control of everything, who has never let me down and who will see me and my loved ones through this, I fight…with BOTH fists.
A graduate of Concord College (now University) with a communications degree, West Virginia native Carey Leann Watters lives in the Dry Fork area of Bland County. You can contact her at .