Good News!

Hallelujah! As expected, a good surgical result was found. Small focus (6mm), good margins, and low grade. Everything has been removed and what was removed appears to have no invasive cells in it. Thank You, thank You, thank You, Father! Now we proceed to prevent. Radiotherapy is one way. Thus far, it appears that I have so little recurrence threat that this therapy would gain me little. And, particularly for younger women with time for side effects to develop, it could cost me (maybe much) down the road. For added assurance in this decision, I've opted to have genetic typing done on biopsied tissue with Oncotype DX, a tool which can help predict progression to invasive cancer down the road. This particular tool combines data for a number of markers to create a single numerical score on a scale from 1 to 100, with a lower score indicating a lower risk. Results came in yesterday with my number at 13 - very low, translating to a chance of invasive cancer in 10 years of just 4%.  With radiotherapy offering a 50% decrease in risk, this is only 2% for me-not enough to warrant its use, considering its risks. Same for the other preventive therapy offered, a pill that kills estrogen called Tamoxifen. Again, for patients with higher risk, these therapies may prove to be a good trade-off, even with their risks. But for me, my team agrees that it would be over-treatment.

That said, apparently my team has not seen all that many patients take this road, but cannot argue with the decision on a scientific basis. They seem intrigued by a patient who, without case studies (it's just too early in the game) will take raw science and in effect "become the studies" as it were, because the raw science is just that good and they know it. I thank God that they do. They are true scientists and not just lockstep "standard of care" zombies. They are comfortable in my level of education, interest in my own health, and ability to forge a positive outcome in the future with healthy lifestyle choices and a watchful eye going forward. As such, my deepest heartfelt thanks go to the Breast Care Center at Porter Adventist Hospital Denver, under the expert leadership of breast surgeon extraordinaire, Dr Colleen Murphy.
Natural preventive measures will look the same as those already posted. These are not alternative choices. Alternative means "different". In my opinion, natural means are the norm, and man-made means are different. My primary doctor will help me monitor iodine supplementation to ideal levels, and in so doing, it is highly probable that fibrocystic activity will be resolved (my age can do that too-after menopause, fibros usually calm anyway.) And those nasty micro-calcifications? It's been said that nutrition has little effect, but my hypothesis is that balancing my calcium with magnesium, beta carotene, and K2 will gradually usher calcium back out of soft tissue (arteries, breasts) back into hard tissue (bone) where it belongs. Again, all levels will be monitored for safety. It is my absolute belief that this 8-week journey has revealed improvements that can be made which can avert considerable problems later on. Even the "small things" have seen improvement with these lifestyle changes. I no longer bruise easily. My eyesight has improved. I'm more relaxed and mentally focused. Make no mistake-as a letter once written to the Roman contingent of Christ's followers reads: "All things work for good to those who love the Lord. -All things."And that ain't no Pollyanna-ing there. Ron and I are more intent than ever on living in the moment for the things most important to us. We purge old hurts and jettison vain distractions, moving forward to the more critical purposes of our lives. We breathe deeper, sing louder, and love better now. And in the immortal words of Sweet Brown, "Anybody got time for dat!"

What does the future hold? God only knows. I obviously want to keep an eye on this, but mammography poses particular risks to me. First, DCIS can indicate instability of cells, more easily disrupted by ionized radiation. Second, I have a full sis in treatment for Melanoma, as posted before. Some Melanoma genes (which I may carry) "switch on" more easily when exposed to ionized radiation. Other options are safer but less specific. One thing I know: I shall screen. But I want to do it smart. And God will lead, as always.
Final takeaway: we needn't fear. We were made for better. God prepared me ahead of time with knowledge about this issue, and it brought power and comfort for the journey. My greatest concern, frankly, was that I would be made into a cancer patient when I wasn't one to start out with. Not that being a cancer patient makes anything wrong with you, but I think you get my drift. I didn't want to get caught up in a system that has been proven to make mountains out of molehills (no pun intended) and in their good intentions, see patients worse for the care than before. It happens every day. And I see the frustration of it in the eyes of my "team" as they cheer me on. One especially lovely team-member, Steph, told me that I was selected by God to encourage women to lead their teams as I had, forging their own plan of care (even if it differs from the standard) with knowledge and confidence. Her eyes welled with tears. She embraced me long and hard as she dispatched me from the Cancer Center exam room for the last time. It made me feel special, and has really moved me to help others through this if I can.

I would be proud to be a cancer survivor. I actually like pink (though I'm usually too reserved to wear it.) Cancer survivors are heroes to me. But I don't believe, scientifically, that I am one. I don't deserve the admiration of having faced the grisly beast of cancer in the eyes as they have. And for all my admiration for these soldiers, I do not want to be one of them. In years to come, it is likely that the form of "cancer" that I had removed will be categorized with pre-cancers. But until then, I shall dwell in the purgatory of DCIS "survivors" hoping to help one another navigate this barren landscape of very early (maybe too early) disease diagnosis. Until we get good enough at prognostics to catch up with diagnostics, we'll have to do the best we can at choosing care that is like Goldilocks-not too much, not too little, but just right. In my opinion, that day may in fact be very close at hand, if not already here for some. We'll see how the next 10 years go, and whether my story can give others like me the confidence to walk this road behind me. And there are others like me whom I have found along the way, who are already well into that 10-year journey. Fellow DCIS diagnosees who, after surgery, have opted to watch and wait only, and are doing just fine so far. Sandie is one, Donna, another. They have joined forces in an exciting project which I would love to be part of somehow.
Meantime, summer's in full swing. We just finished a wonderful family 4th of July BBQ and I'm rarin' to ramp it up further. God is good, life is good. Ronny, rev up that little red Vette and let's get this party started!