The Big "C" of Celebration

On January 17, 2024 I started this cancer journey with a "preventative" double mastectomy. As my doctor recently commented, the routine pathology report afterwards came back with, "a hiccup." Eight rounds of chemo and a long list of surgeries later I can assure you that the word "hiccup" is an understatement. January 30, 2025 I again found myself in a surgical suite for major surgery. My prior update mentioned that a routine ovarian scan in August had shown a mass of unknown makeup. An "urgent" MRI was scheduled for July of 2025. Considering my history and the aggressive nature of ovarian cancer my OBGYN made a phone call to have this expedited and I was soon rescheduled for November 9th. On November 1st I underwent surgery to have my breast expanders replaced with permanent implants and 8 days later I arrived for my MRI. "Do you have tissue expanders?!," the nurse asked me during check in. Upon learning that I had JUST had them removed she sighed with relief. "Ok, good. I was worried because we cannot do MRIs when you have tissue expanders due to the tiny bits of metal on the expanders." I suddenly felt so embarrased that I had been angry and stressed over the "insensitivity" of the original MRI date. God had first delayed my MRI and then rescheduled it for the soonest possible date that I could have the test done. I was again reminded of how easy it is to focus on controlling my situations rather than trusting God's plans.

The MRI showed that a second mass had developed. While they were most likely complex cysts it would be impossible to determine if they were truly benign without surgical removal. I soon received a call from my OBGYN explaining the results. Her wait time for a non-urgent surgery was 18 months, but if she suspected an urgent concern, she could possibly move that up. "Have you ever had any issues with endometriosis?" Her question took me by surprise until I realized she was searching for a reason to expedite my surgery. A few more questions like this had given her enough "concern" that she could request an urgent surgery date. The next day I received word that surgery was scheduled for just six weeks later.

We flew through an emotional Christmas and New Years. There had been many days over the course of 2024 that I had wondered if I would live to see Christmas. My gift drawer proved this as I had labeled everything with "For ___________ : christmas" or For __________ :BD present." It made for quick and easy gift wrapping but also stood as a stark reminder of the dark days that we had navigated through.

Before we knew it my sister had arrived as home management support and Andrew was driving me to the hospital to prep for surgery. I settled into a chair to await next steps and a couple sat down across from me. Her hair was missing and she had the stereotypical hat that is meant to disguise the effects of cancer but seems instead to broadcast them. Realizing that hair loss can occur for multiple reasons I chose not to engage in conversation and within minutes my name was called.

Surgery was uneventful and after closing my eyes in anesthetic bliss they were fluttering open to burning pain coursing through my abdomen. I twisted the sheets in my fingers and heard the nurse beside me. "Let's give you something for the pain. You are grimacing." The pain subsided slightly. "Mmm, looks like you need a bit more." Within minutes the burning was manageable and I was taken to the recovery area. I had been told to expect an overnight stay but I was going to do everything in my power to get home to my bed and my girls. God was gracious and (with a little bit of Janke stubbornness) I was able to meet all the milestones required for discharge and was home in time to see my girls go to bed.

Truthfully I've recovered from this surgery very quickly in some ways. Were it not for the very strict restrictions that I am under I would be trying to return to normal life. However, it has been made clear by my medical team that I need to rest for a full six weeks to ensure that I heal correctly. My parents and sister have been here to help me with daily life responsibilities and the many meals which have been provided over the last two weeks have been incredibly helpful.

Two days ago I received my pathology report. I was too nervous to read it so my sweet mom took the news for me.

Negative.

Every single thing they had taken had come back free of cancer. The masses were cysts and the surgery had truly been preventative this time. I burst into tears. Though my chemo journey ended in July I have felt as if I have been in a holding cell every day since. The months of wondering, the wrestling with fear, and the constant battle to hand the "what ifs" back to my loving Heavenly Father are over. There could be more to come but two days ago I felt as if someone opened the cell door, handed me the key and told me I could run. The dark tunnel that I have been surrounded by for over a year was suddenly flooded with stunning light. That night I crawled into bed and, for the first time in a year, I kissed my husband goodnight without the weight of cancer sitting next to me. It was glorious.

This surgery has put me into surgical menopause at just 38 years old. There will be many curves to navigate and hurdles to overcome in the months and years to come. The ramifications of this surgery will follow me for the rest of my life and feel overwhelming at times. Yet I rest in the truth that God has carried me and held me fast through the valley of the shadow of death. As I look ahead I will choose not to fear for my Good Shepherd will not change. His gentleness will not subside. His rod and staff bring comfort and His Faithfulness ensures that whatever touches my life will be saturated in His steadfast love.

What a precious hope.