My name is Erika Radic.  I have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (IDC) – still find that hard to believe!  I was diagnosed five months past my 35th birthday.

I’m writing this to keep my family and friends in the loop and also for anyone newly diagnosed or awaiting a diagnosis (especially new mothers!).  I believe that you are more readily afraid of the unknown and I wanted to give a step-by-step account of the tests, etc. so a person can be more prepared.  My biggest suggestions:  DO YOUR RESEARCH and ASK QUESTIONS!  But remember that the Internet is a double-edged sword…..it can give you a lot of information, but it can also scare the crap out of you!

I first noticed a weird area on my left breast right before Thanksgiving, 2004.  It was a hard mass right above and behind my left nipple.  I should say that I was eight months postpartum, so weird breast things were not uncommon for me.  I had my first baby; a beautiful boy named Mack, on April 6, 2004 and had been breastfeeding and enjoying all the many joys of motherhood since.  God, to think back to that time when my main worries were lack of sleep and whether Mack was pooping enough is surreal.  Anyway, due to breastfeeding, noticing the lump probably took longer than usual because my breasts were pretty full (yeah, nature!!), so it was hard to tell that there was something going on.  I called my OB after the Thanksgiving holiday to make a regular appoint and casually mentioned that I thought I felt something in my left breast.  The nurse asked if I could come in that day.  Now, we live on an island outside Seattle and I usually go into the city to work 3 days a week…this was not one of those days, so I said “No!”  Besides, I was sure it was nothing, so what’s the rush?  I was convinced it was just a clogged milk duct or something because actually, that breast had always produced less milk anyway!  But, we made an appointment for the following day.  I went in fully expecting her to feel around, tell me it was nothing and send me home.  She didn’t.

She said she couldn’t tell what it was, but thought it was probably a clogged milk duct.  Since I was nursing, a mammogram might prove difficult to read, so she scheduled me for an ultrasound the next day.  Again, I showed up thinking they’ll send me home with a pat on the head – silly new mother!  It’s nothing!

I knew very little about breast cancer before my diagnosis.  But, I knew enough to know that a fluid filled mass was probably not cancer, while a solid mass was more questionable.  During the ultrasound, I asked If the mass had fluid in it..she said no.  She also said she could see blood flow.  At this point, I swear I knew for sure….I had freakin’ cancer!  At the blood flow comment, I said, “well, that’s not good, right?”  She said she couldn’t really be sure without doing a biopsy, which she wanted to do right then.  Now, I am not a needle person, but I must have been in a state of shock or something because I heard myself agreeing to the biopsy.  They asked if I had someone with me that they could bring in, but I had gone alone..so sure it was nothing.  Now, suddenly, I wanted my mother!

The biopsy was not as bad as you’d think.  They numbed the area first, so there was little pain (although I kept waiting for it!).  It was actually very interesting to watch the needle go in and take samples, etc.  It was over before I knew it and I was told they’d have results in about 3 days.  THREE DAYS!!  Were they kidding??!!  God, the wait was torture!  I would go through a million biopsies to avoid that wait again.

So, the 3rd day was Friday, December 3 and when I hadn’t heard by Noon, I called them.  The cheerful girl I spoke with informed me that they didn’t have my results yet, but if I’d give her a number where I’d be all day, they’d call.  God, this wait was killing me!  I told her obviously I wanted to know as soon as possible.  Meanwhile I was keeping up a brave front to everyone that I was sure it was nothing….but was I really?  She called me back about ½ hour later….her voice still sounded pretty chipper.  Then she said the sentence that I will never forget:  “Well, I’m afraid they found a LITTLE cancer.”  A LITTLE CANCER??!!!  What the F**K is that????  Even though, deep down I believe I knew since I first felt the lump, hearing those words was intense.  I had just had a baby!  I was only 35!  I want more kids!  I DON”T WANT TO DIE!!!

I had done some research so I started asking about the size and grade and whether it had spread, etc.  MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS, take note:  Please, please if it is within your power to avoid doing what she did to me, please do so!!  She told me that they didn’t have the actual pathology report yet, they just got a phone call saying it was IDC and that she’d have more information on Monday.  I had to wait the whole DAMN weekend…..all I knew was I had cancer….Was I going to die?  What exactly did this mean?  It was excruciating!

Finally, Monday came and they had set me up with a surgeon who explained everything they knew – Stage II / III, about 5 centimeters around.  He explained that they wanted to do a ton of tests:  MRI, CAT Scan, PET Scan, Mammogram, blood work, another ultrasound, etc.  Oh, and I had to stop nursing.  I believe giving up nursing was one of the hardest things I’ve been asked to do in this whole thing.  I had planned to nurse until my son was 12 months old…..he was only 8.  I really felt like I was letting us both down.

I explained that I was leaving for Boston on Thursday for a previously-scheduled trip to visit my family.  He basically cancelled my work schedule for the next 2 days and did every test imaginable before I left for Boston (except for the mammogram because my breasts were so tender from stopping nursing that I just couldn’t do it).

The tests ranged from no pain to uncomfortable.  Nothing too bad, but here’s a few tips:

1. Pee before each test!  Many require you to drink lots of water (or other fluid), some take a long time and require you to lie still, strapped to a table.  I almost didn’t make it through my PET scan….thank God, the technician untied me quickly and the bathroom was right next door & vacant!
2. Get over any shyness you have about your breasts.  You’re going to be poked and prodded a million times.  They’ve seen it all before & yours aren’t that special.  They’re like knees to the medical professionals!
3. Try to do as many tests as you can in as short a time as possible.  It saves trips to the doctors, plus it just gets them over with!

Since I have a very good friend who is an oncology nurse at Brigham & Women’s Hospital (Thanks, Amy!) and an administrative friend at Beth Israel (Thanks, Dina!), I had 2nd & 3rd opinions done while I was in Boston.  Everyone basically agreed on the following:

1. I do have Breast Cancer (still shocks me!)
2. The placement of the lump will make breast conserving surgery difficult.
3. I would benefit most from a dose dense chemotherapy regimen of 4 cycles of Adriamycin and Cytoxan followed by 4 cycles of Taxol every 2 weeks for 16 weeks, followed by surgery.
4. I should have genetic testing done since I have an aunt on my Dad’s side who has had breast cancer twice, as well as 2 other cancers (She is doing amazing now & is my inspiration).  I also had 2 grandparents with cancer, so the doctors think it is a good idea to get the test.  Doing the chemotherapy first would allow time for the genetics testing to be complete (takes about a month for results) and will give us time to decide on the best surgery option.  If the genetics testing comes back positive, I may opt for a double mastectomy since I DO NOT want to go through this again.
5. Radiation would be addressed following the pathology report on my surgery.
6. My cancer was determined to be Estrogen, Progesterone and HER-2 negative (called a triple-negative).  Meaning it is an aggressive (HATE that word!) cancer and I would not benefit from hormone therapy.

While in Boston, I opted for a sentinel node biopsy.  This would determine if the cancer had spread and also show which type of chemotherapy would be best.  This was by far the worst I’ve been through.  The surgery itself wasn’t bad; it is the procedure beforehand that sucks.  They use eight needles to inject a radioactive dye into your breast – the 1st four are surface deep and the next four are deeper tissue.  The 1st four are the WORST because your pain receptors are on the surface of your skin!  Unfortunately, they can’t use any numbing agents because it slows the absorption of the dye.  I recommend just squeezing someone’s hand (Thanks, Mom!  And thanks for your support, Sis)  It does go pretty quick.  It takes about 2 hours for the dye to circulate & then off to surgery.  I had a wonderful surgeon, Dr. Susan Troyan (BI), whose skill as a surgeon is only rivaled by her wonderful bedside manner.  Thanks, Dr. T!  They removed five lymph nodes during my surgery . . . only 1 came back positive.  From the results, all agreed we’d stick with chemo as scheduled.  It didn’t change our plan too much, although it did make me feel good to know the cancer hasn’t spread.

After a wonderful (extended) trip to Boston, I returned to Seattle to get ready for chemo.  Since I hadn’t had a mammogram yet, my doctor scheduled me for one.  Boy, did a man ever invent that torture device If a man ever had to get his goods examined like that, you know he wouldn’t get squashed between 2 metal plates!  He would probably get a caress and a few pictures taken from across the room!  But, us they squish like fleshy pancakes!  YIPES!!  Of course, since they knew I had breast cancer, it was even more intense than usual.  Felt like they took a million pictures & from every angle imaginable.  I’m surprised they didn’t have me stand on my head for a few!  I wasn’t expecting any new information from the mammogram, but that’s just like cancer…..just when you think you’ve got it figured out, it screws you!

Apparently, they found another concerning area about 2 inches above my original lump.  Fantastic!  My doctor offered me several options:

1. I could have this new area biopsied to determine if it is Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS).  If it is, it will need to be removed.
2. We could just assume it is DCIS and opt for a mastectomy of the left breast following chemo which would eliminate both concerning areas.

My doctor said he’s fairly certain it is DCIS and since my original lump started out as DCIS, it is a good bet that this would eventually develop into full-blown breast cancer.  A lumpectomy is no longer an option since we’re now talking about 7-8 inches of breast tissue.  I didn’t even know I had that much breast tissue!  I’ve never been known as well-endowed!  So, we decided on a left mastectomy for sure, with the possibility of doing the right breast too, following the results of the genetics test.  Even if the test is negative, my doctor feels I should still consider a double mastectomy in light of the new area and the possibility of developing something in the right breast eventually.

You know, I’ve never been real attached to my breasts anyway.  They’ve always been too small for my liking and since breastfeeding, I’m still not impressed!  So, it is really not a hard decision for me to go the mastectomy route.  Although, I can understand why it could be hard for some women.  Especially those with naturally beautiful breasts.  But, I hope to get those through surgery!  I do feel like I’m sad to be losing “my own” breasts…I mean, they’re not great, but they are mine!  I’m hoping that I just find a wonderful plastic surgeon who is able to give me the boobs I’ve always wanted!  I feel that will be a perfect celebration of getting rid of the cancer.  So, onward & upward (pun intended!)!