My Journey: Living with Cancer, Loving Life

Twenty years ago, I was diagnosed with meningioma—a type of brain cancer. The tumor was the size of an orange and located dangerously close to my sagittal sinus artery. Within two weeks, I underwent a 13-hour surgery. The doctors were able to remove almost all of it, except for a small piece that was too close to the artery to safely remove. That little piece has stayed with me ever since.

For many years, I remained stable. I continued with radiation treatments and lived my life with a positive attitude. I’ve never believed in letting cancer define me. I chose to smile, to laugh, and to live fully.

But in 2018–2019, I started feeling unwell. That led to another MRI and a series of tests, which revealed that the cancer had spread into the artery. Because of its location, it’s inoperable, and chemotherapy isn’t an option—it could be fatal if anything happened to that artery. I recently completed my final 30 treatments of radiation. There are no more treatments left to try.

So what do I do now? I live. I stay upbeat. I choose happiness every single day. I want people to understand that life is meant to be lived with joy. I could have the worst day imaginable, but I still go home smiling. That’s just who I am.

I still have lots of doctor appointments, including regular visits every three months with my neurologist, Dr. Sprouse, who has been a steady and compassionate presence throughout my journey. I’m incredibly grateful for the support I receive from my peers and management. They’ve allowed me the flexibility to take care of my health, and that means the world to me.

Cancer has been the greatest challenge of my life, but I’ve learned that surrounding yourself with positive people and staying away from negativity makes all the difference. It keeps me going. It keeps me smiling.

I want to thank the UVM Oncology Center, especially Dr. Nelson and the amazing staff. During the COVID pandemic, when my husband couldn’t come in with me, they made sure I never felt alone. Some of the procedures were terrifying—being strapped to a table with a face-formed mask, my head screwed down for treatment—but their kindness and care helped me through it.

I’m also deeply thankful for the support I’ve received at work. Chris Hanson encouraged me to learn new skills and keep my mind busy, which led me to build wonderful relationships with Henry Kao and Ray Miller. They’ve made work fun and supportive, always checking in on me and lifting my spirits.

This journey has taught me that life is precious. I may be living with cancer, but I’m also living with love, laughter, and gratitude. And that, to me, is a life well lived.

I was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma back in 2007, at the age of 17. This experience is something you could write a book about, but I’ll try to keep it short. I underwent chemotherapy for about three months, took a month off, and then traveled to Boston for limb-sparing surgery. The cancer was located just above my left knee, and the surgery involved a full knee replacement, removal of most of the muscle, and replacement of about half of my femur. I spent about three months recovering from surgery before diving back into an aggressive chemotherapy schedule for the next nine months. This was an incredibly tough period, and it’s something I never want to go through again.

After those nine months, I was cleared and began regular check-ins and scans. About 11 months later, a very small nodule appeared in my lung, and I had to undergo surgery again to remove about 2% of my lung. Following this, I started an experimental chemotherapy treatment, which required me to fly to Houston, Texas, for the initial dose at the MD Anderson Cancer Center. I was able to complete the rest of the treatments back home, which lasted another nine months. Thankfully, this treatment was more manageable, and I was able to work my full-time job throughout, only missing time for surgery and trips to Houston.

My last chemotherapy treatment was in January 2010, and I have been cancer-free ever since. Cancer is a vicious disease that leaves deep scars, both mentally and physically. I only hope that someday a cure is discovered for all, and I wish the best of luck and strength to those currently fighting the battle. It was the most difficult experience of my life, and I am incredibly thankful for the doctors, surgeons, nurses and my family who helped me through it all.

My breast cancer journey began in July 2022 as I prepared for my 34^th birthday. One evening I noticed a faint residue on the inside of my bra. At first, I assumed it was dirt from gardening and then a terrifying thought entered my mind. I anxiously dug through my hamper and saw the same faint residue on other bras I wore that week. At that moment, I knew something wasn’t right. After a litany of tests, I was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS), also known as Stage 0 breast cancer. In September 2022, I underwent a double mastectomy and opted for a reconstructive surgery in February 2023.

Throughout my experience I learned the importance of seeking out a great care team and advocating for myself. After receiving no education about my diagnosis from my breast specialist, I reached out to a local breast cancer survivor named Shelly and shared my experience. She affirmed me something seemed “off” and recommended I self-refer to a breast cancer multi-disciplinary clinic. I wasn’t aware a clinic like that existed. The next week I attended the clinic where I met with 6+ providers who educated me and my boyfriend (and now husband) about my diagnosis and shared their collective recommendation for my treatment plan.  Shelly also shared the good, bad, and ugly about the double mastectomy, recovery, and life after a breast cancer diagnosis. I am forever grateful for Shelly’s honesty and support as well as the amazing care and compassion of my new care team. Additionally, I am tremendously grateful for the support of my KDP team during my cancer journey. My supervisor was beyond understanding and supportive as I needed to attend many doctor appointments typically with short notice. I am also so thankful for my teammates who supported me emotionally firstly as a friend battling cancer, and secondly as a colleague who picked up some of my workload with no questions asked.

Although we continue to make strides with cancer research, there is still SO much more that needs to be discovered and understood about breast cancer. Both my maternal aunt and my mom are breast cancer survivors. My aunt and I both had genetic testing that yielded negative results. However, I can’t help but think there’s a genetic or environmental cause that hasn’t been identified that led to my diagnosis. Today, I am extremely fortunate to be cancer-free and it’s my hope I can: motivate others to raise money for cancer research, educate people how to best support loved ones fighting breast cancer, and to be the “Shelly” to anyone who is currently battling breast cancer.

My journey through breast cancer has been a profound and transformative experience. It began with a routine yearly mammogram in September 2020, which yielded inconclusive results. A follow-up in February 2021 revealed a lump, and an ultrasound biopsy confirmed that it was indeed cancer. The medical recommendation was to remove my left breast.

In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, I sought solace in the stories of other women who had faced breast cancer. Their wisdom and shared experiences became my greatest resource. Conversations with these brave souls provided insights, encouragement, and a sense of camaraderie. I made the decision to undergo a double mastectomy. My reasons were twofold:

1. To alleviate the perpetual worry and uncertainty about a recurrence.
2. To avoid the asymmetry that often accompanies a single-breast removal.

But it wasn’t just fellow survivors who lifted me up. The support from my KDP coworkers was nothing short of amazing. Cards, treats, and heartfelt visits flooded my days, reminding me that I was not alone in this fight. Their unwavering communication and genuine care made all the difference.

As I underwent final treatments, my family and I joined forces with my coworkers who formed the “KDP Tenacious DD” team for the Making Strides event, dedicated to me in my name, raising funds for breast cancer research. Walking side by side, we celebrated life, resilience, and hope.

Today, I stand cancer-free, grateful for the skilled surgeons, compassionate nurses, and the entire hospital staff who guided me through this life-altering journey. And I carry with me the wisdom of those who walked this path before me—a sisterhood of strength and survival.