Invasive Carcinoma: Stage III

Tuesday, April 14th finally arrived. There was no way my mom was going to let me go through something like this alone. We were both up at the crack of dawn, carrying a quiet kind of anxiety as we headed in for the biopsy. We knew we wouldn’t have answers right away, but it felt like a big, necessary step closer to getting them.

The procedure was one my mom wasn’t allowed to be in the room for, which I understood. But she stayed in the waiting room the whole time just waiting for me, like moms do.

When they finally called my name, a nurse walked me back into the same room I had been in just four days earlier. I changed into one of those cape gowns again, the kind every woman recognizes, and laid back on the stretcher. I tried to steady myself while I waited.

The room was already set up for the biopsy. Everything was clean and sterile under bright fluorescent lights, the tools laid out and ready. It felt a little intimidating, but I kept reminding myself I just needed to get through it.

The doctor came in with his team, and before I knew it, we were starting. The biopsy was painful but it was actually more tolerable than I expected. I watched the ultrasound screen as he carefully guided the needles into the tumors. The device they used to take the samples made these loud popping sounds each time, it caught me off guard at first and I flinched more than I’d like to admit.

He placed small metal clips into each tumor by threading them through a small catheter placed by a long needle to mark them for future imaging. Watching that on the screen made me feel a little queasy, like it wasn’t quite real. But I kept reminding myself this was all part of getting answers.

After about 20 minutes, it was done.

“You’ll have your results by Friday, but most likely Thursday.”

The cancer was confirmed. But there’s something about hearing it officially… about seeing it in writing. That’s when it becomes real. And all I could think was—how bad is it, really? and what happens next? The wait on those answers was excruciating. BUT they resulted in just 24 hours, instead of 2-3 days.

Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.

Estrogen +

Progesterone +

HER2 -

with lymph node spread.

4 tumors, all malignant.

Stage III.

Believe it or not...

I sobbed tears of JOY and relief knowing my prognosis was actually pretty great all things considered. Yes this has spread, but this is also VERY treatable.

This very well could have been a death sentence, or something without treatment options.

I read the results with Cole and I could barely make the words out.

He continued to pour his love and support into me with uplifting words of encouragement, and expressions of how I was going to kick this cancer's ass. This devastating and life altering news has brought us even closer in love than before, and a newfound appreciation for life and each other has absolutely surfaced.

We are ready to fight.

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a small heartfelt registry linked below:

Makenzee’s Registry