I also had breast cancer

It's not something I hide at all. In fact, I talk about it normally. And, when I do, how many times do I hear “I also had breast cancer.” Many, many more than I would like.

It happened to me two years ago. I was sitting quietly drinking coffee and had my arms crossed over my chest, hands wedged under my armpits. It was the end of the day, at home, and I felt, I remember, relaxed and happy. Suddenly, my fingers began to caress the outside of my breasts and, on the right one, I noticed a small lump. “Oops! This wasn’t here before,” I thought. I mentioned it to my partner and he calmed me down. “It won't be anything,” he said. “Anyway, you have to look at it,” I replied. The next day, I made an appointment with my gynecologist. “Don't be scared, it will be a cyst, it doesn't have to be something bad. You'll see how everything turns out to be a scare,” he encouraged me. And he made an appointment for Radiology.

While waiting for the results, I started writing. I couldn't find a better way to calm myself to face the panic I was beginning to feel. Today, with the approach of World Breast Cancer Day, which is celebrated on October 19, I want to share with you some excerpts from those reflections. A kind of chronicle. They helped me so much that I hope today they can help someone who is going through the same thing.

Waiting and uncertainty

(22-09-2013)

“… I feel anguish and I am afraid. I try not to think about it and I succeed sometimes. But at night or when you wake up, the uncertainty returns. What is really happening in my body? He is sick? I try to listen to him and let him tell me. I touch my right breast, where the small lump is, gently, almost caressing it, and I feel a slight pain, perhaps more of a discomfort. What will it be?

Tomorrow they will give me the results of the biopsy. It's been two weeks since I discovered the little ball (it looks like a marble) and one week since the seven stingers stuck in my breast. I feel like touching it, collecting it in the bowl of my hand to pamper it, to heal it and protect its wounds...

…Sometimes, when I'm watching TV or chatting or in any everyday situation, the area where I received the injections itches and I feel a kind of sting that goes down to the nipple. Then my left hand gently brushes the area and caresses it gently. It seems to tell him, it's okay, I'm here. And that's how my body is, wanting to collect itself. To curl up in a ball and sleep. To snuggle and protect the wounded chest. And being pampered…”

Results

(25-09-2013)

"…I have cancer. Now I know. My gynecologist told me this on the phone two days ago. -Sandra, hello, good morning. Yes, it has tested positive. I'm sorry-. And, suddenly, the world falls on you. You cry, you close your eyes, you think “this can't be happening to me.” But you react and ask the doctor, who is still on the phone, what the protocol to follow is. “Our work ends here. Now you have to call the Medical Center or the Residence.” And you hang up because the doctor has ended the conversation and you feel that way. Hung They just told you that you have cancer and left you abandoned to your fate. You don't know what to do, you don't have the slightest idea of where to call or who and, at the same time, you feel a tremendous urgency, a desire to act and start fighting now so that evil does not advance. As if you were going to die the next day and what you did today was going to save your skin. And, despite all this, you have to calm down and gather the courage to communicate the news to your parents relatively calmly…”

At that moment, after fifteen days of uncertainty, just two hours after knowing the results and with one word insistently bouncing in my head “cancer, cancer, cancer”, I said to myself:

"…That's it. I have breast cancer. It happens to many women and it has happened to me. I deserve it no more or less than anyone else and what I have to do is fight and fight without regrets. There is no return. And I have taken it as a new project, like when I put up a shop window or design a new photo album, with all the enthusiasm and strength of something that is just beginning. And it's not that I'm excited about having cancer. Absolutely. But a new world opens before me that I cannot avoid and that I will grasp head on and with the desire to overcome it. New nomenclatures, treatments, hospital units, tests... whatever. I will learn it, I will submit and I will try to give everything to recover..."

Tests

(3-10-2013)

“…I have already visited the hospital four times in one week. Analysis, rays, electro, ultrasound, resonance... I only have to consult with the anesthetist and everything will be ready for the operation. According to the doctor, the nodule must be removed and radiotherapy applied to the area to clean. What results from the tests will tell if something more needs to be done or not…”

“…I continue to feel well. I attend everything and let myself be led as if I were leading another person. But I do so with a mixture of resignation, disbelief and defiance. How can this healthy body be damaged?..."

“…It is curious to face a disease that everyone fears, that can kill you, that has killed many people in a sudden way, and that, however, has no symptoms. It doesn't hurt, it doesn't bother, it doesn't manifest itself. How do you handle that? How do you assimilate it? And the people around you?..."

When the date of the operation approached, I faced one of the things that made me most sad: telling my 10-year-old daughter that I had a small tumor and had to have surgery. I wanted him to know the truth and to know it for me. It was very hard. He cried uncontrollably and asked me if I was going to die. “No, my love,” I said. And I explained to him in a simple way what was happening to me and what they were going to do to me. I tried to normalize a situation that, unfortunately, is everyday in many families. After the initial scare, he took it well. On October 20th we celebrated the little one's birthday at home, just the day the hospital called me to be admitted. We had a nice party and I said goodbye to my daughter with a huge smile. She gave me a drawing with many colors that said “cheer up mommy”. I placed it in a clearly visible place in the room.

The operation

(22-10-2013)

“…I'm already at home with a swollen chest, a scar on my side and a little bottle where all the gunk drains from the wound. I was admitted on Sunday the 20th and they operated on me the next day, the 21st, around eleven thirty in the morning…”

“…I've been driving myself for a month and a half, taking myself to tests, consultations and operating rooms but without really assimilating. I have not taken chemo, I still have my leonine mane and I feel fine. I have to raise awareness, really think that I have cancer and, now that the nodule has been removed, am I cured? I have been a cancer patient for a month?..."

“…Now I have to rest, recover, heal my wound and continue, always moving forward. I hope this has helped me learn to stop, to not demand so much of myself and to be humble. None of us are free from something like this happening to us. In a second, everything changes…”

Treatment

(15-11-2013)

On November 15 I had my first appointment with my oncologist. He explained to me that my tumor was a T1 (less than 2 centimeters, mine was 1) and had hormone receptors with a value of 8, on a scale from 0 to 8, where 0 was the most negative and 8 the most positive. He told me that this was good because the behavior of the cells was not very different from normal and because the hormonal origin was so high that it was much easier and more effective to combat it by carrying out hormonal therapy. He prescribed Tamoxifen for 5 years, a daily pill, a “marvel” of pharmacological engineering that reduces by 7% of the total 15% the probability of suffering from another similar cancer but which can, however, cause a tumor in the uterus, sweating , menstrual disorders, phlebitis and other pathologies that I prefer not to mention. The prospect is terrifying.

I didn't have to have chemotherapy because the size of my tumor was very small and there was no need to shrink it. That's why, too, I keep my chest. They only removed the tumor. Additionally, the sentinel lymph node test was negative. I did have to undergo radiotherapy to eliminate any possible remains of cancer cells from the area.

Radiotherapy

(27-11-2013)

“…Today I went to do the simulation to begin, shortly, the radiotherapy sessions. They placed me in a scanner and painted my body, then marked coordinates on my skin with India ink. Four punctures: sternum, stomach, right armpit and left armpit. I already have four moles tattooed…”

“…In the afternoon, in the store, I spoke with Teresa, a customer who has already had three cancers: uterus, pelvis and breast. They gave him 2 months to live and he has been fighting for two years. And celebrate life every day. What courage and bravery! Always smiling…"

“…Yesterday I finished the 25 full chest radio sessions. I have 8 sessions left, but only in the small quadrant where the tumor came out. My chest is literally singed and sore in the fold. It hurts and stings like hell. Sometimes I have to grit my teeth to suppress the urge to scratch and tear off my breast. The nipple has completely peeled and has turned from brown to pale pink. And in the fold of my chest he opened my skin like the crest of a sponge cake. It's been hard to endure the constant itching and pain when stretching my arm or simply getting dressed. The bra or the shirt itself burns me. Only twice in all this time did I go to the hospital with anxiety. On both occasions I wished I wasn't there and I felt powerless and fed up with the process I was going through. However, overall, my time at the hospital was wonderful. Everyone from the doctors, nurses, technicians, and even the other patients were great. Attentive, affectionate, happy, sweet…”

a tango

(19-02-2014)

"…It's over. Thirty-three radio sessions every day from December 30 until today, except holidays, weekends and two days of machine breakdown.

Yesterday I told Yoli, one of the nurses, that I was going to give them a tango as a farewell. She was delighted and told some colleagues about it over coffee. Today, when we arrived, they gave me the last session and then they called Martín. I wore a dress and shoes for the occasion. And there we had a great time. They moved the stretcher away from the radio machine, we put a small speaker on the cell phone and let's dance!

They loved it and even recorded us. In the end, we said goodbye with kisses and hugs and they told me that it had been the most original gift they had ever given them.

I told them how wonderful they all were and I left Clinac 1 (at the end of the yellow line) of the Central Hospital of Asturias happy and smiling. End of radio.

I won't miss the treatment or that horrible machine, but I did feel a little sad saying goodbye to the girls. Even going up to the hospital every day and walking through its long, bare corridors (at 7:15 p.m., my time, they are almost empty) had its share. It made me think a lot about life, death and illness and made me feel very close to the people who come to receive treatment every day.

It has not been as unpleasant, nor as hard, nor as tiring as I imagined. Gloria, Eva, Gregorio, Francisco...were some of the patients with whom I met. Ana, Mari Luz, Yoli, Lorena, the nurses. I take with me, I have, the memory of a group of people who lived together for a few minutes to fight a difficult illness and who, in that fight, found room for laughter, conversation, affection and even dancing.”

Two years have passed. I continue with my daily hormonal treatment, the damned little pill, but at the moment, it's not going bad for me. I have periodic check-ups for Radiotherapy, Breast Pathology, Gynecology and Oncology. Most of the time I forget that I have had cancer, but I get upset every time I find out that someone I know has it or has passed away because of the disease. I'm afraid that the tumor will reappear in the other breast or in some part of my body, but in seconds I dismiss the idea and think: I'm alive. And I have Teresa very much in mind, since I have not seen her again and I no longer know if she will be there, and my daughter and my family and the people I love. And I live.

As you have seen, I'm talking about it. It suits me wonderfully. Furthermore, there are more and more breast cancers and, unfortunately, it is becoming normal in our lives. Caught in time, it is cured. Touch each other, touch each other a lot. I had had a mammogram in March and they didn't see anything. If I can't feel it, now, after two years, which is when I would have to do another one, the tumor would be much larger and I would still lose my breast. Many clients have gone through the same thing and we talk about it in the store. I love finding that garment that makes them feel more beautiful, happier or more comfortable for a moment, since the arm of the operated breast swells easily if the lymph nodes were affected.

And well. I hope my chronicle has been of some use to you. Maybe because you are going through the same thing, maybe because you know someone who is doing it or maybe to know first-hand how someone who has gone through it feels. Although each person is a world. All these notes (those written in cursive) are part of a kind of much larger diary that I wrote during the process and that, for me, served as therapy. But a hug, especially in moments of depression, comes from the movies.

And speaking of cinema, to finish, I recommend a movie: “MA MA”. It is directed by Julio Medem and stars Penélope Cruz. It is a song to life.

Tags: October 19, breast cancer, disease, mammography, fear, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, life

42 responses to “I also had breast cancer”

1. Lucia Gonzalez via Facebook October 16, 2015

I have annual reviews. Every time I go and they tell me I have to repeat the x-ray. I tremble. When they tell me I have to do an ultrasound. My legs are shaking. On one occasion, the first time, they told me we have to click, I thought about the displeasure that I was going to give to those around me. I've been like this for 7 years, year after year, and I do as you did. But I'm so afraid of finding something... But thanks to science, as you say, catching it in time is a chronic disease. What a beautiful narrative. Congratulations and congratulations

2. Alba Rueda Espina via Facebook October 16, 2015

I don't think I know anyone as consistent as you in everything you do. How I like you, Sandra!

3. Luis Aurora ML via Facebook October 16, 2015

You are admirable!! Cheerful, sensitive, creative, beautiful, inside and out...

4. Maria Jesus Menendez via Facebook October 16, 2015

Congratulations, you are admirable.

5. César Inclán through Facebook October 16, 2015

Marvelous!

6. Emilio José López Iglesias through Facebook October 16, 2015

Your hair like spikes has made me pretty, I still remember our conversation in that bar on the way to Puerto Ventana when you told me everything (YOU ARE BRAVE)… A big kiss… A pleasure to read you.

7. Sole Iglesias via Facebook October 16, 2015

Brava!

8. Carmen Dolores Alonso Alvarez through Facebook

October 16, 2015

A huge kiss!

9. Atame Bracelets via Facebook October 16, 2015

Brave!

10. The old go through Facebook October 16, 2015

I have no words to express the immense admiration I feel for you... the way you have dealt with this terrible blow in your life and the way you continue to face it day by day, savoring every second to the fullest and with a vitality that is truly unmatched. where you get all that energy. Despite the fear, which I know accompanies you every day... you fight to find the strength to move forward and try to enjoy every second that life gives you, because you know that life is a gift... and you have to take advantage of it. A wonderful text sister. Thanks for sharing. I love you.

11. Cris Diaz via Facebook October 16, 2015

Tremendous testimony. .I'm speechless. And here I send a big hug to all of you: healthy and sick. A hug from woman to woman. Force!

12. Carmen D. Barroso via Facebook October 16, 2015

damn Solis...I hate you!!! I feel like a muffin right now...this is not done!! ainsss my pretty brunette

13. Isabel González Acero through Facebook October 16, 2015

Beautiful Sandra. I hope many people read it because it really comes through. And the tango, incredible and wonderful gift. A kiss

14. CG Muñiz via Facebook October 16, 2015

Beautiful, emotional, exemplary...I could go on, not all the words fit here

15. Oviedo Start through Facebook October 16, 2015

From Oviedo Emprende we send you a big hug. We hope to meet you at Espacio Coworking Talud Ería at an event we organize at #Oviedo or at Calle Magdalena, 24. We will surely be in touch!

16. Raffa October 16, 2015

Thanks friend. Although I had already heard everything from you, reading it like this is wonderful, the part where you talk about your daughter continues to wet my eyes irremediably. You already know that I love you…muak!

17. Yolanda García Fano via Facebook October 16, 2015

Sandra, thanks for sharing your experience. I really enjoyed reading you. a strong kiss

18. Teresa Martinez Marques via Facebook October 16, 2015

You couldn't express your process better...I love how simply you tell it. I share….A big kiss

19. Pigeon October 16, 2015

thanks for sharing……

20. Luis Diez October 16, 2015

Moving story friend Sandra, it's nice to have friends as strong as you. Much encouragement to women who suffer from this disease, testimonies like yours always help. A hug dear Sandra.

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

Nothing strong, Luis. Fighter, feisty and enjoyable, yes. But there have been many tears and much uncertainty. There are many people who have gone through the same thing and with much worse cases, stronger than me. I just wanted to give voice to this disease. What I am lucky about is the people who have crossed my path throughout life and have built me up as a person. You are one of those good friends and I gladly receive that hug that you send me and that is so needed when things come badly.

21. Olvido Herrero via Facebook October 16, 2015

Beautiful story. Thanks for sharing. Unfortunately, we all have people close to us who have gone through or are going through this disease. And talking about it can help. Bs

22. Pilar Rodríguez Fernandez through Facebook

October 16, 2015

Thank you for sharing your courage, sensitivity and empathy. I encourage you to continue fighting, life is beautiful and you have to live it day by day. Your story is moving and I understand you perfectly, I have too for six years. KISSES

23. Mayte Fernández Fernández through Facebook October 16, 2015

Thank you for sharing it and making it reach so much!!!!!! a huge kiss!!

24. Conchita Guerra via Facebook October 16, 2015

I wish you the best but it runs in my family, two aunts and my mother had it and they were cured, a hug

25. Raquel October 17, 2015

you are amazing

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

No Raquel, I'm not that amazing. I only tell my consolations and disconsolations. There have been times when it was so hard that I didn't consider myself brave or incredible or anything like that. And with each review I feel like an insignificant little ant again. Then it is true that I take up the bike or dancing or whatever fits and I squeeze out life, I need that vital intensity to feel good. I send you a tango hug, partner.

26. Consuelo Menéndez Espolita via Facebook October 17, 2015

Thank you for your testimony. You are a very brave woman!

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

Not so much Consuelo. Not so brave. There are very hard moments when I feel anything but brave. But life has put this in my path and I have no choice, and I want it that way, but to always move forward. Thank you for reading my reflections and giving me some words of encouragement.

27. Begoña October 17, 2015

You are a charm. I think it's a very good idea to share fears. When faced with a problem, you look for possible solutions and face it. You are quite a woman. Living intensely is the best thing after a situation like this. Sandra Solis you get out!!!! I love you. I feel very lucky to have crossed the path of my life with yours. I found a treasure in you.

28. Montse Perez October 19, 2015

Sandra, you are a brave woman. It seems to me that it must be very difficult to talk about something so painful and intimate. You write it with such naturalness and simplicity, what emotions. A big hug and kiss. Never be discouraged.

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

Montse dear. What a happy online reunion! It has been difficult not to write about it, which is my escape route, but to make my writings public. But when you go through something like this, it is so comforting to talk to someone who has gone through the same thing, who knows about your fears, your uncertainty and the fight to get ahead and get on with your life, that you forget your modesty and think that there may be someone reading your reflections to the one who is going to be good. That, even if it's just one person, makes you arrest them. Although it stirs, why say no. Thank you for your encouragement and for your nice words, Montse. A big big hug, from an Asturian brown bear.

§ Montse October 20, 2015

You're wonderful. You always have been. Keep going like this, with that strength, beauty, vitality, generosity... that characterize you. A big kiss, Sandra dear.

29. Taomas October 19, 2015

I don't know how to remember you without your smile, always affectionate, and when reading you it has become even more beautiful, "...it's okay, I'm here...": thank you for taking care of yourself, Sandra, a hug!!

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

What beautiful words of encouragement, Taomás. My smile! I hope I have the courage to always keep it. I like it when I laugh. Therefore, I will follow your recommendation to the letter. I'll take good care of myself, friend. A huge kiss.

30. Pillar October 19, 2015

Morenazaaaa!!! I knew that you are a woman of Armas Tomar!!…. .. you have just confirmed it for me….

Big kiss from Gijón! and thank you for your words and sharing those complicated moments.

either Elantiguoiriarte October 20, 2015

Hello Pilar. Thanks for reading the blog post. And thanks for your compliments, but I'm not a woman of arms. At least I don't consider it. I know so many! I have only said out loud what I feel, with all the emotional “uncovering” that this entails. It hasn't been easy, but it's going well. Very good. And I hope, as I tell it, that it has been useful to someone or that you know first-hand how this damn disease is experienced.

31. Pepa Garcia Alvarez via Facebook October 20, 2015

I just heard Sandra on the radio as always!!! It was exciting!!! You are incredible listening to you, it has been a pleasure, the truth is, reading you and listening to you is just as nice!!! you're very beautiful !!! I love you

32. Charo F October 25, 2015

It is impossible not to get excited when someone reads your reflections or listens to you talk about it. I wish you could put it into a book because these letters of yours deserve to be read. They would help so many people: the sick, those awaiting a result, family members, healthcare personnel... everyone because no one is free from it, directly or indirectly.

either Elantiguoiriarte October 27, 2015

How right you are Charo, no one is free from it. That is why it is important to talk about it, take it out into the streets, relativize it and feel united and supported in the face of this evil. Thank you for reading me, for listening to me and for your beautiful dedication. A hug.

33. Fabiana Ginobili October 25, 2015

Well Sandra! I have gone from the initial surprise to the joy of knowing you are well in zero coma... Since we are no longer neighbors nor do we share children at school we don't see each other at all, so I had no idea what you went through. I am extremely glad that it was a battle that you were able to handle and that you gave us this testimony. Thank you!! A hug. Fabiana

either Elantiguoiriarte October 27, 2015

You see Fabiana, the one who gives her life. But this is so. If cancer has taught me anything, it is that everything can change in a second, for better or worse. And you have to accept everything because that's how life is. It was my turn and after a terrible scare, I always looked forward. I continued with my life and underwent the treatments trying not to let fear and discouragement dominate me. That is why I have shared my concerns. We can all handle more than we think and we have the survival instinct. Thank you for your love, former neighbor. I hope everything goes well. A big kiss.