This year we are featuring Cathy (Brodzinski) Aragon.

Cathy grew up in the Windsor, CO area and many of you know her family. Cathy was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) this year. Please take the time to watch the YouTube video linked below regarding the diagnosis and symptoms of this type of breast cancer. This is a MUST WATCH video!

 

IBC YouTube Video

 

Cathy's story is one of courage and faith as she shares her experience.  

 

Cathy Aragon

They gave me a breast cancer treatment handbook on the day they gave me my first biopsy results. In the second paragraph of page 1, it reads, “Most importantly, you need to know that breast cancer is usually not a medical emergency. You can take several weeks without endangering your health to sort through your emotions and seek answers to your questions.” I laughed, and then I read it to my husband. It had been quite a week for us.

Earlier that week, on Tuesday, they took us into a nice little room with sofas and a semi-homey atmosphere, and they told us I had breast cancer. We weren’t really shocked or even surprised. From what we had researched online, the symptoms had already told us that. The initial diagnosis was Infiltrating Ductile Carcinoma, one of the more common invasive breast cancers. But they were looking for more. The symptoms indicated there was more. The symptoms indicated Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC). On Wednesday morning I had a breast MRI at the hospital, and then I went immediately next door to the Comprehensive Breast Center for a blood draw for BRCA (the breast cancer gene) testing, as there is a history of breast cancer in my family. While we were discussing the gene testing with the nurse practitioner, a doctor walked by the office and pulled her aside for a conversation. They were already looking at the MRI, and there was an indicator of cancer having spread to the skin. We met with a surgeon on Wednesday afternoon. He gave us a “clinical” diagnosis of IBC, but also took three punch biopsies of the skin in hopes of getting a pathological confirmation of the diagnosis. He sent the samples out “stat”. Thursday morning the surgeon called, and sure enough one of the skin biopsies was positive for cancer. He had already scheduled a meeting for me with the oncologist for that afternoon. The oncologist laid out the likely treatment regimen for me, which was consistent with what I had already researched online; chemotherapy first, then surgery, more chemo, and radiation. The surgery would be a mastectomy, as there is no option for lumpectomy with IBC. On Friday morning, I went to the hospital and had a chemo “port” surgically implanted in my chest. When I was released from the recovery room, we drove from the hospital, across the street to the Cancer Partnership building, and three days after my first diagnosis, I started chemotherapy.

My journey began a few weeks earlier with my annual screening mammogram. I am 48 now, but have been getting regular mammograms since my mid-30’s because my mother is a breast cancer survivor. About a week afterward, I received a call from the Comprehensive Breast Center. My mammogram revealed a change in my left breast from the previous year, and they wanted me to come in for a diagnostic mammogram on that breast. We scheduled the appointment for a couple weeks later. I had had a diagnostic mammogram the year before on the other breast, so I wasn’t overly alarmed. Apparently I have dense breast tissue, so it’s a bit tougher to see things on my mammograms. Nonetheless, I did a very thorough self exam the next morning in the shower. No lumps. (They never did find a lump.)

A couple days later I was getting ready for bed, and looking in the mirror I noticed that my left breast was a bit larger than the right. This was new, and somewhat alarming. I had never heard of an enlarged breast being related to breast cancer, but was concerned about the coincidence with the questionable mammogram. The next morning I went online and did a search on enlarged breasts. After wading past the breast “enhancement” hits, I landed on cancer websites, and discovered Inflammatory Breast Cancer. According to the websites, many doctors don’t even know about IBC. This rare and very aggressive breast cancer is often undiscovered on a mammogram, but more frequently diagnosed clinically, i.e. based on the physical symptoms. In addition to the sudden swelling of the breast, some typical symptoms include warmth, redness, tenderness, an inverted nipple, and an “orange peel” texture to the skin. An infection in the breast can also cause some of these symptoms, and IBC is often misdiagnosed as a breast infection, especially if a woman is breast feeding or of child bearing age. These women are often treated with antibiotics to rid the (non-existent) infection, and even suspected IBC cases are sometimes treated with antibiotics first to rule out an infection. So at the time, I decided my enlarged breast could be anything from a breast infection to IBC. But infection really didn’t seem to fit, as I had no fever, wasn’t breast feeding, and am already in menopause. I jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and decided I might have Inflammatory Breast Cancer.

My next step was to contact the nurse practitioner who is my women’s health provider. I was interested in knowing the specifics of what they had found on my screening mammogram, and wanted her to know about the enlarged breast in case that information might prompt her to try to have my diagnostic mammogram moved up. She didn’t have any information beyond the mammogram being “inconclusive”. When I described the enlarged breast, she said that many women have one breast larger than the other and I shouldn’t worry. When I explained that this was a new thing, she told me that cancer does not cause an enlarged breast. She encouraged me keep my diagnostic mammogram appointment and to avoid further self exams, as I might introduce tenderness. I had been dismissed.

Between that phone conversation and my diagnostic mammogram, I developed some redness and warmth in the breast, but no inverted nipple or orange peel. I also noticed some prominent “cords” under my arm, which the doctors later decided were tendons being pushed toward the surface by swollen lymph nodes beneath.

My diagnostic mammogram was not at my usual clinic, but at the Comprehensive Breast Center. For diagnostic mammograms, they evaluate the images while you wait and give you the results before you leave. That’s a wonderful thing, as it eliminates any further worry or stress while waiting for the letter or phone call. I had decided that anyone and everyone I saw that day would be made fully aware of my symptoms and my suspicion of IBC. I would not allow anyone to dismiss me again. The mammogram technician listened intently, and took my symptoms very seriously. (In her twenty year career doing mammograms, she had seen just six cases of IBC.) My mammogram revealed calcifications, little white dots which are not cancer themselves, but an indicator of rapid cell growth. She then had me see a physician, who did a clinical breast exam and discussed the possibilities related to the symptoms I had. Those possibilities mirrored what I had read online and concluded on my own; anything from infection to IBC, but infection didn’t really fit. The physician wanted me to have a core biopsy on the left breast, and also wanted me to meet with a specific surgeon, the local breast expert. They talked one of the technicians into squeezing in my biopsy the following morning. The surgeon was on vacation, but they set up an appointment with him for the day he returned, a little over a week later. I was very impressed by the attention they were giving me and the speed with which they were acting and setting up the appointments. But I also knew it meant that mine was a very serious situation.

The core biopsy went well. The calcifications really weren’t very prominent, and might easily have been missed on the mammogram. The doctor and technician were concerned that they might not actually capture any of them in the samples, but they were successful. They actually do a mammogram of the biopsy samples to check that. They decided to do a second biopsy in another area, and were successful in capturing the calcifications there as well. They scheduled an appointment with me for the following Tuesday to go over the results. That was the Tuesday I found out I had breast cancer. My husband and I talked about it a lot that night. I told him I wasn’t going to waste any energy blaming God or being angry with God. I believe cancer, disease, and early death are the consequences of living in a sinful world. I doubt that God specifically chose me to bear this burden, but if He did, it is likely He wants me to learn something or to teach something, and I accept that. God has given me peace with my diagnosis, and for that I am blessed and thankful. And I am blessed with the many prayers of family and friends.

I can’t say enough in praise of the Comprehensive Breast Center, as well as the Regional Cancer Partnership where I’m being treated. They’ve treated me like I’m the most important person in the world, and the only cancer patient they’re dealing with. Every Wednesday morning, they have an oncology team meeting where the key players get together and discuss all their cases. They met the day after my diagnosis, but my case wasn’t on the agenda because the diagnosis just happened. Yet a sweet nurse practitioner raised her hand during the meeting that day and mentioned my case anyway. It’s what prompted a doctor to review my MRI scans immediately. It’s what prompted a surgeon to see me that afternoon and request my skin biopsy results “stat”. It’s what set up the chain of events that had me receiving chemotherapy just three days after my diagnosis. They didn’t dismiss me.

It’s only been five weeks since my diagnosis, and I have just three treatments behind me. Associated costs are already over $50,000. A PET scan after my first chemo treatment revealed that the cancer is in my left breast tissue and skin, as well as the lymph nodes in that area and under the arm. A lymph node under my collar bone is involved as well, and possibly one behind and below my left ear. I’ve come only a short distance on a very long journey. Friends tell me I look great with no hair and that I have a nicely shaped skull. I’m sure I’ll have some very rough times ahead of me, both physically and emotionally, but for now I’m doing pretty darn well. The doctors tell me I have a 50% chance of still being around in ten years. They don’t know how much fight I have in me, they don’t know how much faith I have, and they don’t know about all the prayers on my behalf. Whatever happens, my family and friends are with me, and my God is with me. On goes the journey...