This Beautiful Life | Breast Cancer Survivor | Cecilia Thomson

Profile | September 20, 2010

I had just retired after 21 years with Central Bank and had so many things that I was looking forward to: spending more time with my family and beautiful granddaughters Emma and Cierra, helping my husband Bruce with the resort, hanging out with friends and enjoying the luxury of life without a schedule. Then, May 4, 2009, one month after retirement, I was on a private yacht with three of my girlfriends and our husbands celebrating my friend Nickie’s birthday when I found a lump in my breast. I called the clinic immediately when we got home to schedule a mammogram. As I drove to the clinic, I thought of all the things I had planned to do with my family, my husband, my children and grandchildren, now that I had the time. I knew that I had to be positive to get through this, so I just told myself that everything would be fine, it may not be anything, and if it is, by this time next year everything will be back to normal.

The first step was to get an ultrasound. The doctor said something was there, and she wanted to take a biopsy. She took a few pieces of the tissue to sample. Five days later, on a warm afternoon, I got the call. The biopsy showed a tumor, 1-1⁄2 centimeters, and it needed to be removed. I felt strong as I walked over to find my husband working, thinking, I’m going to handle this. I stood at the doorway and said, “I have cancer,” and started crying. Saying those words were so much more emotional than I had ever imagined.

That was the beginning of my life as a cancer patient. I arrived at the hospital at 6 a.m., prepped for surgery and was on the table by 7 a.m. It was a short procedure, but took a little longer than scheduled. Two of my closest girlfriends, Margie and Judy, were in the waiting room with Bruce. When the surgery was over and they came into the recovery room, I could see my girlfriends had tears in their eyes. They were worried it was worse than expected due to the length of the surgery. I thought to myself, What would I do without my beautiful family and wonderful loyal friends? They were there with me every step of the way.

The surgery did get rid of the tumor, but my life was forever changed, again. As we go through life’s experiences we are either better for the experience or it kills us. I had been through pain in my life; however, a broken heart far exceeds the pain of chemotherapy. So this was going to be just another challenge in character. I met with my surgeon to go over the procedure. I would need radiation, and possibly chemotherapy. A new radiation technique was available. A small tube with a bubble on the end was inserted into the area where the tumor had been. A small radiation seed was pumped in to the area where the tumor had been removed. The procedure radiates only the area where the tumor was, as opposed to the entire upper body. This was scheduled twice a day for five days. Seven minutes twice a day, with six hours in between. I didn’t get sick from the radiation, but the after-effects were there, anything that I ate at lunch during that week of treatments nauseates me to this day.

On Monday morning I was up early and on the road to Columbia where we would spend the day. The first step was an X-ray to make sure the balloon was still in place. I was in the waiting room with at least five other women at all times. I met some of the most beautiful women during this time, and once again realized the extent of this disease. Between treatments, whoever was my companion that day would go to the park or the mall with me, anything we could do to make time pass. Six hours later we would go back for the afternoon treatment. The radiologists were some of the best, most compassionate doctors, and each had an incredible sense of humor. There was always a joke between us. Bruce, my daughter Jenni and my girlfriends Margie, Nickie and Judy made these trips with me, five days in a row. I will be forever thankful for their support. With the radiation treatment complete, I met with my doctors. The diagnosis, because of the size of my tumor, determined that I was a borderline chemotherapy patient. Therefore, I needed a test to determine what the possibility was of reoccurrence. As I sat waiting for the chemotherapy doctor to tell me the results of the test, I was not myself, I felt anxious and scared. They told me I was in the high-risk category for reoccurrence and would need chemo. I remember feeling sick to my stomach at the news. However, with the support of my husband I felt confident I could handle it.

I took the elevator to the third floor to begin my first treatment. I was scared, nervous and already nauseous. I spent an hour with a nurse who walked me through the process. She told me I would lose my hair 17 days after treatment. As I was waiting for my doctor I watched as women, too many women, passed in front of me. Some of the women had hair; some had bandannas. They were all ages and from all walks of life. At that moment I realized the level of this horrendous disease. This was just one of thousands of hospitals in the world, and it was full of cancer patients. I was taken to a room with a bed. Usually treatment was in a room with several other cancer patients. The room had a big black chair, the ugliest black chair I have ever sat in. They inserted my IV. Two bags of saline through the port and then comes the poison.

Three and a half hours of a slow, steady drip. My mind went to so many places, up and down, but always thoughts of my family and friends and the love I had for them. Bruce was at my side at each of those treatments. I could not have done it without him. I felt good on the way home after the first treatment, but wondered if at any point I would be violently ill or mildly nauseated. Consequently, the first treatment put me in bed for four days, unable to eat, drink or sleep. I was totally incapacitated. By the fifth day, after a few calls to the doctor, I was able to at least get out of bed. As it turned out, that was the worst of the treatments.

I had four treatments total, once every two weeks for two months. During the first five days after the first treatment I thought there was no way I could endure it, but I did. The second treatment made me mildly nauseated, but it was tolerable. On the 17th day a few clumps of hair came out. I called my daughter Jenni and she showed up with the clippers and started shaving. I sat watching in the mirror, feeling as though I was losing more than my hair. It’s amazing the attachments we develop to hair. It was sad, like I was losing a part of myself. It was difficult to look in the mirror. At first I cried a little, then moved on. My sweet son-in-law Dave shaved his head that day too. My girlfriend Margie said she was going to shave her head, I made her promise me she wouldn’t!

Jenni and I went to buy a wig; as always, there was a lot of laughing. I am so fortunate to have a beautiful, strong and amazingly funny daughter who always manages to make me laugh, even in the worst situations. My baldness gave her fodder for many funny times and I am so thankful for her love and support. I am also thankful for the support of my girlfriends, who all bought wigs with me and wore them every time we were together. My friend Susan had been through cancer, too, and called me often to reassure me everything was going to be fine. I wouldn’t let Margie shave her head, but she showed up every day with some kind of meal. Fresh tomatoes and corn on the cob were my favorites. She would call and ask what I wanted to eat and she would bring it that evening. I am thankful for her cooking ability, but mostly for her friendship.

My daughter and husband were there with me every day, for whatever I needed. All of them gave me the love and care I needed during this time in my life. Granddaughters Emma and Cierra came to see me every day. There was nothing that made me feel better than to see those beautiful, sweet, loving girls. My last treatment was on August 8th, a very special day in my life for so many reasons. It was the end of a long summer and an awakening to all that life has to offer. I thought writing this article would be easy, having it all behind me and so much to be thankful for in my life. It was much more emotional than I had imagined. I realize how fortunate I am to be one of the lucky survivors of this horrid disease. I am blessed with all this life has to offer, living and loving each new day!

I am 59 years old, healthy, happy and surrounded by my beautiful family and friends. I live every day thanking God that I have been present to live, love and enjoy this life. I am thankful I wake up every day to this beautiful life and greatly appreciate the love I share with my incredible husband, beautiful daughter, supportive family and compassionate friends. The joy I get, every single day, from my sweet girls, Emma and Cierra, is indescribable. I am truly blessed.