2015: I must beat this crazy thing called CANCER

On December 17, 2014 I found out something I never wanted to hear.  "I'm sorry Mrs. Haney, you have a mass on your left breast. But don't look at cancer as a death sentence."  My mind flooded with the thoughts of my mother dying of breast cancer, and her mother, my maternal grandmother dying of breast cancer.  My Aunt Nancy had breast cancer.  My mind is racing.  Wait a minute, I have five kids, I have three grandkids. How am I going to tell my husband? How am I going to tell my kids? I started to cry. I never cry.  You can ask my kids.  It's during the Christmas holidays.  I can't tell anyone.  It will ruin everything. With my report and films in my hand, I walked through the lobby crying and ran outside to the parking lot.  It was raining. It never rains in Arizona.  My mother loved the rain.  Then all of a sudden, I felt a strong impression to go back inside and take this information to a surgeon that would also soon be removing a tumor from my 17 year old daughter's breast. (You think that sounds crazy? Another daughter too had a tumor removed from her breast last year! Both their tumors are benign. Thank goodness)  I walked into the surgeon's office and much to my surprise saw my friend who happened to be the office manager ask me if I was ok and what I needed.  I started to cry.  She took me into the back and reassured me that everything would be ok.  Within hours I was scheduled to have a biopsy on December 26th, 2014.

December 26, 2014 was a painful day.  I gave birth to five kids and would gladly do it 200 times in a row than go through the pain I felt when I had my biopsy.  It felt like someone took a very sharp knife and sliced off my breast.  I will never do that again.  I'm not kidding.  NEVER!

December 29, 2014 I received a phone call from a nurse telling me I had INVASIVE DUCTAL CARCINOMA.  What? I really do have cancer?  What kind of cancer is this? The nurse told me that the cancer was in my breast tissue.  I became so numb that I could barely hang up the phone.  I started to cry. Me and my husband just sat there and said nothing.  He finally said, "We will beat this!"  I babysat my grandkids that night so that my daughter and her husband could celebrate their 9th wedding anniversary.  My granddaughter asked me why I had tears.  I just told her I had allergies.

December 31, 2014 I met with my surgeon. By the way, she's awesome! She went over all my options. Lumpectomy, mastectomy, bi-lateral mastectomy.  I barely heard the words chemotherapy, radiation, etc.  I felt numb.  She was so surprised that I hadn't told any of my family or friends.  I just felt like I need more information before I told everyone.  The time was passing by so slow.

January 2, 2015 I celebrated my 30th wedding anniversary.  My kids gave me and my husband a gift card to eat out and tickets to a comedy show.  I tried to laugh.  So much was going through my mind. I feel like the walls are caving in on me.  I'm confused.  Why me?

January 4, 2015 was one of the hardest days of my life.  With my children gathered, I had to tell them I had breast cancer.  I could barely speak.  I will never forget the look on their faces.  Complete sadness and despair.  I did everything in my power to be positive.  Together as a family we will beat this cancer.  We must!

January 5, 2015 I had to have an MRI in the morning and an appointment with the oncologist in the afternoon.  The oncologist told me that the MRI found another spot on my right breast and a deformation in my lymph nodes in my left armpit.  I need another ultrasound and a needle biopsy.  Can someone please stop all this!

January 7, 2015 I went to Ironwood Cancer Institute to have a PET scan.  When I walked into the building, it was packed with people everywhere.  Why do so many people have cancer?  No one looked happy. Of course they weren't! I wanted to run out of the building! I can't take this anymore!  I want to run away!!

I am a woman of faith.  Many people have told me that they are praying for me.  I can't even begin to tell you what that means to me.  Last night a group of young girls brought me dinner.  It was a hard day and I needed that.  What a blessing!  Even though I'm scared of the unknown, I feel at peace.  We don't get to choose the trials we have in life, but I know that challenges can make us stronger.  I hope that through my experiences, I can make a difference in someone's life that is also going through the madness we call breast cancer.  I want to live.  I WANT TO LIVE!

I love this picture of me and my mom holding my daughter Jenna. (April 1987)

I miss my mom.  I wish she could be with me during this difficult time.