Stage III-B breast cancer, infiltrating ductal carcinoma Grade 2. Big words, shocking news, stifling revelation. I have cancer and I need to seek immediate treatment. I am right at the heart of the best available medical care in the entire world but how do I avail of this when the fact remains that I am an overstaying tourist, a TNT with no money and no insurance? I have just started to pick up the pieces of a failed marriage and a shattered life and now I am faced with a life threatening situation alone. This was my biggest battle yet but I chose not to fight it. Instead, I offered everything to the healing hands of God, left everything to His miraculous heart and kept my faith that everything will be alright.

After core biopsy and mammogram, the initial diagnosis was confirmed. The prognosis was not good either. Based on the size of the original lump, the doctor said that he was 60%-80% sure that the cancer has metastasized and that he was 80%-100% sure it has spread to my lymph nodes. I underwent chest x-ray and bone scan and the doctor was proven wrong. All the tests came out negative. The cancer has not spread. My internal organs are safe.

A treatment plan was soon put into place by a cancer medical board, a group of doctors and medical staff that will take care of my treatments. Because the lump was huge, 5x10 cm., more or less the size of a cigarette case, everyone in the board was in agreement that the first line of defense was chemotherapy, six cycles, once every three weeks, in the hope of shrinking the lump. I breezed through the first quarter of 2003 as if there was nothing wrong. My body responded so well to the chemo that after only two cycles the lump shrunk by 54% and after the 4^th cycle, it was down to the size of the tip of a pencil. Not only did I gain 5 lbs. but I also escaped most of the side effects. Not once did I throw up, loose energy or appetite or got depressed. I did not even sneeze. I always carried a picnic basket with me to all my appointments to the infusion clinic.

The next step was lumpectomy with node dissection. The medical board was emphatic that I go for mastectomy because I have high risk cancer but I opted for lumpectomy, just take out whatever lump is left and go for breast conservation. My first brush with death came during surgery. My blood pressure went down to 20/10 and it took the doctors several seconds to bring it up again. I awoke in the ICU with all the beeping noise from the monitors. I stayed in the hospital overnight because the doctor wanted to make sure that there was no damage to my brain, otherwise, I would have gone home the same day. I was up and about the following morning and went home and resumed working. I almost forgot but the surgeon took out 23 of my lymph nodes and everything came out negative. Remember the initial prognosis?

Thirty eight days of radiation, Monday to Friday, at UCLA in Westwood in Los Angeles, was the third step. This was another major treatment that proved to be beneficial but did not cause any side effect. I was warned that after three to four sessions, the skin will turn red and eventually will lead to blisters. I was prescribed with EMLA cream that I have to apply to the affected area everyday. Every Monday I saw the radiation oncologist for follow-up and every Monday he would ask the same question, “Are you sure you’re having radiation?”

2003 was almost over but not my treatments. I started with the second set of chemotherapy. This time I was infused with a very strong chemo drug called Taxotere. Most of the patients who had this, experienced the worst side effects. Some almost gave up. And true to its notoriety, the first side effect hit me the first 10 minutes after infusion. My face turned dark red and I could not breathe. I had an allergic reaction but it took only a few minutes for me to feel okay, thanks to Benadryl. For the next cycle, I took several steroids prior to infusion to help my body fight the possible side effect but the same thing happened. This time I really felt the discomfort of not being able to breathe. A dose of the allergy pill made feel okay again. Before I went home, I was reminded by the nurse to immediately go to Emergency if fever develops.

And true, indeed, three days later I had fever. I felt so weak that I could not even lift a finger. Twice I found myself lying on the bathroom floor because I was devoid of energy. I knew something was really wrong so I called a cab and went to the hospital. I informed the Emergency staff about Taxotere that I was on so the doctor ordered some lab work. A few minutes later, she was back with the bad news. I developed neutropenic fever and I had no white blood cell at all. My immune system was completely suppressed and depressed. I was immediately put in isolation. Nothing raw to eat, no plants or flowers in my room and everybody who entered wore a mask. I was given the strongest antibiotic there is in the world, the doctor said, because once infection sets in I am dead. I was told that I have to stay in the hospital for about two weeks for it takes that long for the neutrophils to normalize. I was out in four and resumed working when I got back home.

The medical board met and decided to stop Taxotere but I was put on Zoladex, a shot on the tummy that was given for six months to temporarily prevent me from having my period, the reason being, that the menstruation might start the build up of the tumor again. This was the last of the major treatment but I was prescribed Tamoxifen to be taken for five years in the hope of preventing the recurrence of the cancer. A year and a half of cancer treatments, doctors’ appointments and hospital visits would have drained me of physical energy, emotional strength, psychological balance and spiritual peace but I am well and alive, six years after diagnosis.

Somebody had asked if I pray a lot. My answer was NO. I prayed only once after diagnosis. I told God that I believe in miracles and I know He will do one for me. After that, I did not bother Him again. My family and friends may not have been physically present to support me while I was on treatments but their prayers were heard in all corners of heaven. My faith and the right mental attitude proved to be my strongest allies. I am a firm believer in the Filipino saying: God helps those who help themselves.

Money was the first major concern after diagnosis but believe it or not, medical help just kept pouring. I met two private doctors, both well-respected in West Los Angeles who offered their services for free during the initial stage of the diagnosis. Then, I was referred to the Breast Clinic at Harbor-UCLA where I learned about BCCTP or Breast and Cervical Cancer Treatment Program that took care of all the treatments and medication for free. I did not spend a single penny and I even got free transportation to and from the hospital courtesy of the American Cancer Society. To top it all, I had an employer who did not fire me after diagnosis but gave me all the moral support that I needed even if he, too, needed it while taking care of his wife who was at the last stage of Alzheimer’s at that time. Not once did he deduct anything from my weekly pay.

He said that that was one time in my life when I needed money most. He even hired a care giver to take care of me and his wife after my surgery. He was Jewish and yet drove me to church on Sunday and waited for an hour till after the mass. I remember him telling me, “I won’t get rid of the car. I will have the engine fixed and make it going again.” He even granted my wish for a Christmas tree that Christmas after diagnosis. He defied Jewish customs and beliefs and let me have my tree and decorate it because it would make me happy. May the soul of my perfect employer rest in peace.

I left the Philippines in 2000 and now I am back for good, a whole new person, strengthened by my experiences, enriched by the people I met and renewed by the healing touch of God. My life will never be the same again for I will not be afraid of tomorrow because I have seen yesterday and I live and love today.