Tia Lyn Elliott

It was early Sunday morning December 1997. I woke up at 4 am with my right hand on my left breast....it was on the lump. I was wide awake and instantly scared, not sure why. I felt around my breast and it was sure enough a lump. It was sore and big. Well, as you can imagine, I did not go back to sleep and stayed awake and allowed all the possible scenarios to roam around in my head. Later that day, I shared my finding with my next-door neighbor/friend and she convinced me to call my doctor. I called, got the off hours call center, they suggested I call first thing in the morning and make an appointment. I worked in the medical field, I knew that's what they'd say but I needed to do something. So the next morning I called, they got me right in the next day. I have to say in spite of my age, 31, they treated it seriously instead of pacifying me because of my age. I saw the nurse practitioner, she immediately ordered the necessary tests, mammogram followed by an ultra sound then to a surgeon who did a biopsy. I was planning my wedding so I opted to wait to get my results until I returned from my honeymoon. During my honeymoon, I noticed the lump had grown and was more painful. I knew deep down it was bad but didn’t want to believe it...I was the youngest of four girls, none of them nor my mother or aunts had ever been diagnosed with breast cancer. But my grandmother had, she survived it. Even though we all knew she had breast cancer, we never really talked about it. So, within 10 days of my return from my honeymoon, I got the news. I called my husband and I swear it took him 10 minutes to drive from his job to the surgeons office which is about 30 minutes away on freeway traffic. That was a long 10 minutes because all I could think about was what I would leave my two young daughters (10 and 7) as a legacy if this cancer took me from them. It was a lot to bear. I looked in the mirror in the exam room and uncontrollable tears flowed from eyes. I had never been that scared in my life nor since. We went home, I called my mother, sisters, mother in law, and sister in law and asked them all to meet me at my moms. One of my sisters drove from Oakland to Sacramento in about 45 minutes. For those of us who know, that is a 1 hour and 15 minute drive. Bay area traffic is always crazy. I knew I needed the strength of my family, we met, I gave them the news. The strongest person was my mother. She said, “girl, we come from strong stock.” Those words and her repeating them to me throughout this journey was one of the biggest things that kept me together. My family did just that…they gave me strength. Shortly after, I went for a second opinion then it was recommended to change surgeons. When I saw my new surgeon, her exact words after reviewing all my results and examining me were, "I'm scheduling your surgery this week...you DON’T have time to go home and think about it." I went in a few days later. I had a left mastectomy. I could've had a lumpectomy but it would have left me too disfigured and the cancer could have still been present in the tissue. My family was at the hospital with me. After surgery, I was, of course, heavily medicated, I was in and out of sleep, I woke up to close friends rubbing my hands. I left the hospital and tried to find some kind of normalcy. I wanted so badly to have my old life back…a life where I felt safe in it. I had taken a leave of absence from work so I was home alone with my thoughts. I’d wake up in the morning and drain the tubes…it was so gross. The surgeon puts in tubes where the breast used to be so fluid doesn’t collect there and cause infections. I’d look at the place where my breast used to be to find a flat seam. It was strange to touch…my emotions were numb. Next on the agenda was to see an oncologist and radiation doctor. I started chemo and even though I knew my hair was going to fall out, I had read where in some cases it didn’t so I tried to use my will-power…it didn’t work and it was devastating to me. I was known to have “good” hair. My hair was part of me. It’s not the essence of who I am but it was an important physical trait to me. Washing my hair in the shower and clumps of hair was in my hands, it scared me. I remember crying a lot. Pretty soon the patches in my head were too ugly, I asked my husband to just shave my head. My girls would rub and kiss my head once I got over myself to allow them to even see me bald. But I did my best to feel confident in how I looked, tried not to see myself so pasty looking. I drew on eye brows and bought cute hats. So after chemo, I did radiation therapy. By this time my mastectomy healed and the drain tubes were removed. Radiation therapy wiped me out. It took so much out of me. I was so determined not to let this cancer take control of my life that I went back to school. I was attending junior college when I got diagnosed, took a semester off when I had my mastectomy. Sacramento City College was close to where I lived, so I had this bright idea to ride my bike to school to keep my strength up...in hindsight, that was so crazy to do because I struggled to and from because chemo and radiation therapy weakened me so much. I got through radiation therapy took a little time off before I was to start chemo again. My oncologist was thee nicest man with a very soft soft tone. It was very soothing to hear him talk. His bedside manner was the best. He was so concerned by my condition, he strongly recommended that I undergo another regiment of chemotherapy. For some reason, I thought maybe after the first regiment he would change his mind after seeing that I really didn’t need to go through chemo twice…that didn’t happen. My hair had started growing back and I really didn’t want to lose it again….but I did. This chemo was a much stronger medicine…it was a beautiful red color that left my whole body in pain. So much so that I couldn’t take my girls to the mall without stopping to sit and rest. Vicodin was my best friend. By this time, I finished at Sac City and got accepted to CSUS. By the end of my first week at CSUS I received my first dose of chemo. Chemo had not only taken out my hair but it threw my body into menopause. So in between my two chemo regiments, I discovered I was pregnant with my third child and first child of my then husbands (we are now divorced but friendly). I couldn't keep it because chemo would have killed him. That devastated me. Thinking about it now, still hurts my heart. I completed chemo, two years after that I graduated with a BA in Communications Media. I underwent reconstruction surgery for my left breast, a TRAM. A TRAM is when you take your stomach muscle and reconstruct it into a breast. I also got a tummy tuck with it...YAY! That was a really hard recovery. I didn't realize how much we use our stomach muscles for every single thing we do...coughing and sneezing were really painful. I would never do that again! Then a year after that I became pregnant again, this time I was able to keep him. Julien is 13 and he's a blessing. My daughters are 27 and 24. I have three grangirls, Amari, 7, Taliyah 3 and Aniyah 3. From that time until now, 16 years, I became unmarried, worked as a graphic designer and in marketing, opened and closed my own business, gone back to work in the medical field, graduated with a MA degree in Journalism and currently work in Social Media for a health and wellness facility. I’ve had a few scares of lumps but nothing malignant, so no recurrences. I have to say most importantly that I recognized then and certainly do now that it was God that literally carried me in his hand through this journey and I thank Him for it. He put the right people in my path at the right time and I am blessed and better for it.