After Breast Cancer, I Was Diagnosed with Cervical Cancer

as told Jacqueline Froeber

January is Awareness month on cervical cancer.

I was in the tail of the Walmart box when my phone rang. It was my gynecologist.

“Karen, your Pap smear was abnormal; You must come to make a biopsy, ”he said.

I sighed. There we go again.

Eighteen months before, I had diagnosed breast cancer. Fortunately, we detected it early, but it was still cancer. I was 46 years old at that time and I didn’t see the need to keep my breasts if they tried to kill me, so I made a double mastectomy.

I hoped that my decision to submit to surgery would help keep cancer at bay, but I am a nurse, so I knew that the abnormal results of the tests did not sound good.

And he was right: I had cancer cells around my cervix. The surgeon extracted the fabric during a cone biopsyBut I had to wait three months to heal before I could make an exploration to see if new cancer cells were growing.

The next step was to consult a gynecological oncologist to talk about my options in the future. My partner Karen and I (yes, we both call ourselves Karen) we meet with the doctor and review the results of the tests. Then, I put one of those beautiful paper batteries for the exam. When the doctor returned to the room and said “Karen”, we were not sure who was talking to.

“I’m going to call you karen dressed,” he said pointing to my partner. “And you Karen United NationsDress, ”he told me for obvious reasons.

Karen and I laughed. It was the perfect comment at the perfect moment.

I was grateful for all the support and love I received from my attention team, my family and my friends, but the next three months were very difficult for me. My nurse brain was tormented by an obsessive anxiety 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. As in a morbid frog game, he jumped from one diagnosis to another. It was a torture to think that there could be cancer growing in my body and I’m simply what … seeing repositions of “friends”? I felt helpless because there was nothing I could do about it.

Recently I started a new job in health care that helped me keep my mind busy. When the three months passed and finally I did the tracking tests, my fears were confirmed: the cancer cells were growing and I was scheduled to make me a Radical hysterectomy.

On the day of surgery, my doctor said there was a problem: if the contrast medium that they administered before surgery showed that cancer had moved to my lymph nodes, they would not do the hysterectomy and I would have to start with chemotherapy and radiation. immediately.

While they took me to the operating room, I took note of the time and hoped to wake up hours later without cancer.

When I returned in itself I looked at the clock and I saw that it hadn’t been long. Even so, I destroyed the intestine and the pelvic area, without incisions. I sank into the bed and heard the brief beep of the monitor by my side. And then I shouted at my pillow as strong as I could.

It was devastated. And the idea of ​​having to tell my son, Karen and all who knew that he had cancer, again, was almost too much for my brain. But as a nurse, she was used to putting a good face even when things were falling apart. So that’s what I did.

My treatment plan was aggressive: six chemotherapy sessions and 25 radiation rounds.

At first, I was excited to know that chemotherapy was not the guy that would make my hair fall, but I would have shaved my head if that meant not having to deal with the nausea weakening and diarrhea he suffered. called “liquid death.”

One morning, approximately half of the treatment, my stomach began to have so strong cramps that I could not stand at all. My fingers were bent and curved inward and Karen had to take me to the emergency room.

My blood analysis showed that I had extremely low levels of magnesium and potassium. It doesn’t seem too serious, but I asked to admit me, I felt that way. The only good thing that left the scare was that I began to take new medications to help with the extreme side effects of chemotherapy and radiation. And I felt better, or as good as one can when it is going through treatment.

After chemotherapy and radiation ended, I returned to work and tried to continue as usual. But he was physical and mentally exhausted. It took me to finish my nursing tasks every day and, one afternoon, my son had to pick me up because I had a panic attack. Finally I lost my work, which at that time seemed the end of the world, but it turned out to be the best for me.

I had been putting my “false face” and trying to be strong for so long that I didn’t know how to be vulnerable. Fortunately, Karen denounced me my falsehood and that was when I began to be honest and to go to therapy. I also joined a group of cervical cancer survivors on Facebook and one day I met a member to have coffee.

Karen at an event of Calavor, 2022

While we were talking about our experiences, a bulb was lit on my head. I had felt very alone, as if I were the only person on the planet suffering from cervical cancer. But I wasn’t alone. It was like finding the last piece of the puzzle and everything fit. I realized that I was still a nurse and that I could still help people, only that in a different way.

Today I am ambassador to the patient’s defense group. Cevor. Cevor Pride also directed for survivors of sexual minorities and gender (LGBTQIA+). My goal is to offer support and guidance to anyone who has or have had cervical cancer because I am an open book and would have done many different things during treatment (hello, therapy and a better diet).

Eight years have passed since my diagnosis and I am glad to say that I have NED: there is no evidence of illness. But I am careful to keep up with my annual appointments. Cervical cancer is cunning and I know I could return at any time. And although I believe that “Karen Undressed” is absolutely hilarious, I will take “Karen no Evidence of Disease” every day.

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Our real women, real stories are authentic experiences of women of real life. The points of view, opinions and shared experiences in these stories do not have the support of Healthywomen and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Healthywomen.