I have got to say that I was shocked to see that my blog was viewed over 1600 times with in its first day. That was an incredible feeling to have the world know what I was dealing with and not have to hide it anymore. I also loved that several people I haven't talked to in years stepped out of the woodwork to offer their support and kind words. I felt lifted up and so supported, and then the next day, I ended up back in the hospital.
Currently, I am at the Siteman Cancer Center in downtown St. Louis. I was having a difficult day on Friday, a full out "I can't do this day," which I happened to say over and over again through tears and in between vomiting into the toilet. You see on Friday alone I had my port put in for chemo, had a CT scan done, and an MRI scheduled. In between all those wonderful things I started to get terrible stomach cramps and was vomiting consistently. I ended up going to the cancer care clinic around 8:30 at night where they realized that I had a partial bowel obstruction. They admitted me into the hospital and I was able to feel a lot better once they got the medication under control. I will mostly likely remain in the hospital for several days. Its funny because in all my 25 years I had only been to the hospital when I was born. Since then I have never gotten so much as a bee sting or a broken bone. In the past 2 weeks though, I have spent a total of 7 nights in the hospital so far and know that number will just continue to rise. However, I know that nothing- not the probing fingers, painful needle scans, scars from surgery, or even waiting on test results, can separate me from the love of God. Since hearing the "c" word I have been struggling with my connection with God. Why would he give me such a terrible disease when I am so young and healthy? The only comfort I can find during this time is knowing that every part of us down to the very DNA in our cells God put together in the very beginning. So yes, he knew that some of my cells were going to go astray, leaving the intent that they were created for and instead following their own path. I also believe that God knew these cells were multiplying in me long before I even sensed the first feeling of pain. You see, looking back on my life over the past two years, I have been blessed with so many things that I now find comfort in today during my struggle. First and foremost, God allowed me to find young love and get married when I was only 24 years old. At the time, people thought we were crazy for getting married so young, but I knew in the back of my mind that it was the right choice. Having my husband by my side today is one of the best parts of all of this. Kyle is so supportive, kind, and all seven nights in the hospital he has slept right by my side (in some very questionable reclining chairs). I cant help but think that God brought us together when he did so that we could have one strong year of marriage between us before beginning on this journey. No 25 year old guy wants to spend the majority of their summer in the hospital, but Kyle does so without complaint and with a smile on his face almost every day. Second, God allowed me to move back to my hometown even though at the time I wasn't grateful for it. You see, about a year ago, I had to quit my first teaching job in Columbia, Missouri and move back home to St. Charles. I was devastated at the time because I loved the school and environment I was in there. Kyle and I had to move because he had gotten a job in St. Louis and our families were both from there so it made the most sense to move home. I found myself teaching the next year at the same elementary school that I attended as a child. And let me just say: yes it was weird. Some of the same teachers that I had are now my colleagues, and my old principal is now my boss. However, looking back now, I honestly believe that God led me there so that I could not only grow in His faith as a Lutheran school teacher but also find a massive support system who are willing to go above and beyond in their support for me. I'm sure the number of prayers coming from the Zion Lutheran School community alone is making God want to put on earphones. The second part of our move to St. Charles was to be closer both sides of our family and honestly now if we wouldn't have moved, I don't know how Kyle and I could have been doing all of this by ourselves. I have seen my relationships with my siblings grow over the past year as well. Growing up, my sister and did not always have the greatest relationship. I have to admit that I did in fact steal her clothes at time. However, last year my sister was the maid of honor in my wedding and I can honestly say through that experience, she has become one of my best friends. Today she rarely ever leaves my bed side, takes notes at all my doctor's appointments, and makes sure that I am eating and sleeping alright. Overall, my whole family is with me every day be it at the hospital or at home. Their support means the world to me. Without their constant encouragement I would not be in such a positive spot that I am. After I was diagnosed with cancer, my grandma jumped on a plane and spent the last two weeks by my side. Since she has battled cancer three times, her constant bravery and strength have given me nothing but positive vibes as I go into my own treatment. I have also seen how this type of tragedy can bring together both sides of the family. Kyle's mom, brother, and my future sister in law have treated me as if I am one of their own. Their love and support is so great I could not ask for much more. The third comfort that I can find at this time is in my puppy Luna. Funny story about her, my Dad joked with Kyle and I after we got married that it would take only a month before I started asking about a puppy. At the time, I told him he was crazy, but within four weeks of the wedding, I was already nagging Kyle about when we were going to get a dog. He initially said that he would be okay with a dog in the summer of 2019. I took that as if he was saying I could get one whenever and decided for myself to get one in January (still 2019, just a little earlier). And thank goodness I did because if we would have waited until the summer of 2019, we would never have been able to have the joy of Luna. Each night when I am home she jumps on my bed and brings me such comfort and at times laughter when she decides to eat my socks. The last sign that I saw that God knew this was coming is that he waited until literally the last day of school before letting me know that I had a serious medical issue. The last few weeks of school I had been feeling some pain, but being with my kids allowed me to push through and live each day in the joy of being their teacher. Then on the last day of school, instead of going to the pool, I went and got an ultra sound done, confirming I had an ovarian cyst. To me, the ability to avoid having to tell my students about what was going on was impeccable timing on God's part. I could focus on myself over the summer and eventually when my students did find out, it was through the comfort of their own parents telling them and they never had to see me suffer. I truly believe that in all of these things I can see God's love as he tried to set up my life as well as possible before this disease hit. I still struggle with why I have this, but I know that he is preparing me for something bigger. Cancer doesn't cripple the love of God, it just makes it look different. God loved me from the beginning, he loves me through this disease, he loves me as I travel in and out of the hospital, and I know that God will love me to the end of this no matter where it will take me. As I sit here today in my hospital bed, I don't know what is going to happen next. I don't even know when Im going to be home next. The doctors aren't sure what the best form of treatment is next. We are currently gathering doctors to share my case with in order to ensure I have the best possible treatment. However, within that comes some waiting in the communication and time it takes to get results back. Right now, it looks like next week I could be starting chemotherapy earlier than expected. This might put the fertility track on hold, but I have to believe there is a plan for that as well. I do know that wherever I go and whatever I do, God will prepare the place for me and allow me to use the small comforts he has set in my life to get through this.
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Do me a favor. Google "Inspirational cancer picture." Take a look at all the rows and rows of pink cancer photos and breast cancer ribbons. When you think of cancer on of the first things that comes to mind is a pink breast cancer ribbon. I think that it's amazing that this form of cancer has so much recognition and movement behind it however, I have also realized that when I tell people that I have cancer one of the first questions out of there mouth is "Oh is it breast cancer?" That happened to me yesterday when I went to my last hair cut. Here I was sitting in tears, telling the woman who has cut my hair since I was little that I wouldn't be coming in anymore because I was starting chemotherapy in July and I would be loosing my hair, and the first thing she asked was if it is breast cancer. Then comes the awkward part of saying well actually no, I don't have breast cancer, I have what's called small cell carcinoma of the ovary hypercalcemic type or SCCOHT because who doesn't need to abbreviate that one.
Now I want to clarify that I know breast cancer is a serious disease and my grandma has battled it three times. In no way am I trying to belittle that form of cancer. I just want to point out that there is so much attention to that form of cancer that when you have another one it feels as if not only do you have to explain you have cancer but you have to yet again explain the type and form you have. And then when we talk about something as personal as your ovaries no one wants to talk about that area of the body. I mean, I love my husband to death but I think every time he hears the word "ovary" I can still see his cringe a little bit. Because it is, its awkward to talk to perfect strangers about your ovaries. Heres some statistics I found in my brief research on google, for a woman the chances of getting breast cancer is around a 1 in 8 chance (about 13%). The chances of getting ovarian cancer 1 in 75 chance (about 1.33%). AND the type of cancer I have only accounts for about 0.1 percent of ovarian cases. These means there have only been about 500 cases total in the United States ever. So tell me how do you explain that to someone when they ask you what kind of cancer you have? That's why I started this blog. I wanted to be upfront and honest about my journey because it's going to be a long one. But there is a reason I named this blog Actually I Can. Whenever I go down the negative path of thinking that I can't do this because it's not fair or not right I stop and think "Actually I CAN do this." So far in this journey there have been days were I am completely defeated and days where I am completely filled with strength. Today was one of the good days. I have felt like since we have heard the news about the cancer we have been waiting to get the ball rolling for treatment. First, we had to wait for the pathology to come back to find out the type of cancer and then we had to find the right doctors for the job. This morning I woke up and had a good cry and had to go into work and tell them that I wouldn't be able to come back to teach this fall. This fact alone still makes me tear up. I love my job. When my doctor told me I needed to take time off because of the chemo and my immune system being compromised by the sick kiddos I cried for a good while. My husband told me that if he was told he had to quit his job he would cry out of happiness but here I was crying out of sadness for the kids I wouldn't be able to teach this fall. That was a really hard pill to swallow in all this. Thankfully, my job is very supportive and would do anything to be there for me and my family. After leaving that conversation I was at home waiting to hear anything from the doctors. Thankfully, today not only did I hear from them but I also was able to meet with them today. My some miracle they had an opening and I got to march right in and they laid out what the next few months of my life were going to look like. Ever since finding out what kind of fun rare cancer I had, my doctors and I have been trying to figure out where the best place for treatment would be. We had tossed around MD Anderson and the Mayo Clinic. At first I was willing to go other places for treatment because I was willing to fight this any way possible. But then the reality of what that would mean began to set in. Weeks away from home and traveling back and forth after chemotherapy was beginning to be more and more daunting. However, today I got the news that the best possible treatment I could get could be done here in St. Louis. That was a huge victory in my book. I still will have to have six rounds of chemotherapy over the next 3 months and will be needing follow up surgery, but I get to sleep in my bed and have my support system (and my dog) close as well. We also got to meet with a fertility specialist today to begin the process of freezing my eggs so that if I loose my other ovary I still have a chance of having children. This meeting was the last place I thought my husband and I would be at when we are only 25 years old and haven't even began to think about having kids. But it was a positive meeting that gave me hope for the future. In the next few days I have so many doctor's appointments and scans that I barely have time to breathe. But today I am filled with the hope that God is good and even though I am still struggling with why he gave me this disease today I know that he gave me a plan and doctors who will help me fight this battle and come out on top. It has been 9 days since I have heard the words "You have cancer" and since then it hasn't exactly set in. I have to admit that before all this I used to think that if I ever had a major disease that it would be a lot more dramatic. I pictured how my family would scream and cry and hold my hand and tell me everything would be alright. In reality that was not how it happened.
When I heard the news I was sitting in a hospital room, having just had major surgery, I was surrounded by my family, and they were in fact holding my hand, but when the doctor said those words "You have cancer" I swear they didn't even flinch. It took me a moment to react and I had to clarify again that I did indeed have cancer and I wasn't just hallucinating on the drugs. I asked the doctor probably two more times "So your saying I have cancer?" "You're sure that this is cancer?" Both times he answered yes and both times there was no weeping or dramatic music playing in the background. I wanted to scream at them "Didn't you hear what the doctor just said? I have cancer! Cancer! You could at least act surprised!" But I didn't. I just sat there like the good little patient I was and pretended to listen as the doctor laid out what was going to happen over the next week. At one point during the conversation it hit me. My family already knew this before the doctor had walked in the door that morning. See the night before I was rushed into emergency surgery for a large ovarian cyst, after the surgery the surgeon informed my family of my diagnosis. However, since it was late at night and I was already out of it he told them to wait until the next day to tell me the harsh reality of the situation. I can't even imagine how hard it was to know this information and keep it a secret from me. Especially since the first question I asked them when I woke up was "Was it cancerous?" Thinking back on it now I understand their decision to wait to tell me the whole truth. Even with it being the morning after the surgery I still struggled to understand my prognosis. How could I, a healthy 25 year old, have cancer? Well it turns out its not as uncommon as you think. The past few months I had been having severe abdominal pain. After being bounced from doctor to doctor, ER to ER, and having numerous blood tests, one smart doctor finally recommended that I have an ultrasound done. Low and behold I had a large ovarian mass on my right ovary. Of course once I went to my OBGYN she told me that she would only operate if the cyst was 10 cm large. Want to guess how big my lovely cyst was at the time? Yup, 9.5 cm. So there was nothing I could do. I left her office with the advice of waiting for six weeks to see if the pain would go away on its own. However, I could barely even get through a day without taking half a bottle of Advil and practically wearing my heating pad around the house. There was a voice in the back of my head telling me to get a second opinion. The second doctor gave me a lot more hope. She admitted the fact that it wasn't going to go away on it's own and she said she would contact me to schedule the surgery. I left her office feeling much better supported and like we had a handle on the situation. Then I got the scheduling call, the first available date they could schedule me? 4 weeks away. I was shocked but I took the date anyway feeling relieved that I would at least have the pain taken away. However, as soon as I hung up the phone I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of panic. Four more weeks of this pain. How was I about to stomach that. Again I felt defeated by the medical system and felt as if no one would ever understand the pain and discomfort I was in. About three days after scheduling the surgery I was out to lunch with my dad and sister. As usual I told them about the pain I was experiencing that day and my dad told me that he was going to call the doctor immediately to see if he could get a better answer. I was mortified. Here I was a married, twenty five year old having her daddy call her doctor because she was too scared. My father has always had the "bull in a china shop" mentality when it came to waiting. He seemed to think that if you put enough pressure on anything you can get a better answer. I however would rather run and hide than tell someone that I was unhappy with what they were telling me. Looking back now I can say that phone call saved my life. Immediately my doctor told me I should not be experiencing that much pain and should go to an ER immediately. When we arrived they did another scan of my cyst to find that it had grown from 9 cm to 13 cm in two weeks. Immediately I was transferred to a bigger hospital, where I was told the oncologist would likely remove the cyst as well as my ovary. They told me there was a risk of the mass being cancerous but I was more concerned with the size of the scar that this would leave on my body. Within a few hours of being at the hospital I was undergoing surgery where they did find the mass to be cancerous, they did remove my ovary, and they did leave a large scar. Never in a million years did I think this would be the situation I am in. All I can say at this time is that if you think there is something wrong SPEAK UP. If no one is listening to you SPEAK LOUDER. Don't be afraid to take charge of your own medical needs. If a doctor isn't listening to you fully, go to another one. If I wouldn't have listened to my dad that day I would have had to live with cancer unknowingly for another few weeks. Luckily for me they found it in time to keep it from spreading to my lymph nodes and other areas. However, if I would have waited my turn in line for surgery, who knows what they would have found. My journey is not over. Even though the cancer is technically out, I still have a chance it could have left behind cells that will soon multiply and attack my body again. I plan to keep you updated on my journey and I hope that you can learn from my story and be an advocate for yourself and speak up if you know that there is something wrong with your body. |
AuthorMy name is Kimber Graham and I have 25 years old. I am a second grade teacher, been married for a year, and have a six month old puppy named Luna. Oh and I have ovarian cancer. This blog is used to document my journey through this time. It may not be perfect but it is honest. Archives
February 2020
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