Janet Britton - To Live Each Moment

To Live EachMoment:

One Womans Struggle Against Cancer

By Janet Britton

Copyright 2014 by Janet Britton

All rights reserved. No part of thispublication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by anyelectronic or mechanical means including photo copying, recording,or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to beinvented, without permission in writing from the publisher or theauthor.

ISBN: 978-1-941733-06-6

Published by EA Books, Inc.

www.EABooksOnline.com

To Live EachMoment:

One Woman's StruggleAgainst Cancer

Janet Britton

Copyright 2014 by JanetBritton

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-1-941733-06-6

DEDICATION:

TO COACHS KIDS

FROM JANETS KIDS,

THE ORIGINAL RECIPIENTS OFRENAE AND NEILS AFGHAN :

May our familys storyencourage your family through the decades.

May your familys storyencourage your friends.

PASSED ON BY THE BRITTON/LIPINSKYFAMILY

TO THE COMPAN FAMILY

TO PASS ON TO...

OR MAYBE

Maybe the Compan familywill be the end of the chain.

Maybe they will be part ofthe last generation of families impacted by breastcancer.

Maybe McCameys childrenwill have no more need to know about breast cancer than they willneed to know about the Morse code or 8-track players.

Maybe....

Click here to go to "Janet Britton Author"Facebook page to view a photo album ofsome people in this book.

March, 2014

Sweet Emily,

You probably have never seen Taylorcry. No doubt thats one reason you chose our eighteen-year-oldgranddaughter to babysit your little ones over the years. Shedespises drama.

Im usually stoic myself. Usually. Butnot at the last tournament basketball game when a young friendplopped down by me, sobbing. No, no! Not Emily.

I patted and waited, finally asked,Emily who, dear? Whats wrong?

She gasped. Coachs wife.... Coachs wife.... She blew her nose. Coachs wife hasbreast cancer.

My stoic gene disintegrated. I almostscreamed, Not Emily Compan! Shes too young. She has fourbabies.

I clenched my fist firmly against mylips or I would have moaned your babies names aloud. McCamey,Rylan, Tucker, Cooper. The four little ones our granddaughtergrabs up from the bleachers after basketball games.

Coachs wife....Coachs wife... , concerned fans whispered aroundme.

I raged. I wanted to throw something.Mothers today should not have to fear mutant cells murdering thembefore their babies grow to adulthood. By now breast cancer shouldhave gone the way of smallpox and polio.

I wanted to grab up yourbabies like Taylor does. I wanted to run away with them tosomeplace safe, a place where there are no fears-to-come for theirmommy. Nightmares of my own diagnosis battered my memory. Images ofTaylor giggling on the gym floor with your children melded intoother memoriesKris laughing with our Renae and Neil in the backyard while I tried to nap on the couch after chemo.

* * *

The fans roared. Taylors butt thumpedon the hardwood floor. Charge! the ref signaled. Her sistersonea college sophomore, the other a varsity cheerleaderyelledloudest. Way to hustle, Taylor. Way to shut em down! Yourhusband grinned his approval from the bench.

I forced my focus back on the game. Iclapped, then caught a glimpse of my hands. Veined and age-spotted,not smooth and young like in the summer of 80. In my stillness, asI brushed away an unruly tear, I seemed to hear Our HeavenlyFathers whisper, Janet, child, I love Emily and Jeff and theirchildren more than anyone else could ever love them, more thanTaylor even. Believe that I will make good out of this badsituation.

I lowered my head onto my old handsand prayed. Peace nudged at my anger and fears.

I was thirty-three, too, Emily, when Ihad my mastectomy. (I still get goose bumps when I remember I wasexactly your age when I heard what people viewed then as my deathsentence.) And Im still here, twice your age.

Doctors and nurses will warn you,Dont compare yourself to others. Every cancer is different. But,Emily, make an exception to the No comparisons rule when youthink of me.

Think of my labyrinth of wrinkles.Smile fondly at my ugly spider veins and the cellulite bulging inmy jeans. Count the sprinkles of gray snuggled in my highlights.And believe.

You will get old, too, Emily. You willshop for bridal dresses with your now five-year-old daughter. Yourpalms will sweat the day your now four-year-old son drives homefrom his drivers permit test. You will cheer on grandchildren,perhaps the sons of your adorable eighteen-month-old twins, atLittle League games. You and your husband will travel to Europe andAsia and sky dive and....

Those four beautiful babies are yourarsenal, your shield from prying questions, your reason to fightthrough the next procedure.

Three decades ago Iwrote To Live Each Moment, a memoir of my treatment year, for our twonatural children, Renae and Neil. Today, Taylor, the second of ourfive grandchildren, took a signed copy to you as a gift.

As you read, Emily, you will see thatconventional treatment for breast cancer is still the samesurgery,radiotherapy, chemotherapy/drugs, hormone-blocking therapies likeTamoxifen to prevent recurrence. But many experiences I wrote aboutarent typical today. Medicine has greatly improved since1980.

I spent three weeks in the hospitalafter my mastectomy. You may not even spend the night.

The primitive hockey stick radiationthat scarred my lung and heart was discontinued in 1981. Anyradiation you may require will be finely calculated, like mine formy second cancer. I had no problem with fatigue after five weeksradiation in 2006, though I was twenty-six years older.

The same chemotherapy protocol thatravished my body for thirteen cycles/twelve full months isadministered now for only three or four cycles, or none at all.Doctors have learned that more is not necessarilybetter.

And biopsy reports tell so much now.After reading hers, my former student and friend, Melissa, said hernew identity is HER2+/ER+/PR+/BRCA2+.

Melissas HER2+ comes fromthe Oncotype DX test, a measure of twenty-one genes to determine ifa tumor will respond to chemo. Melissas positive results showedshe needed chemo, but millions of others are spared needless dosesof rat poison that kill only normal healthy cells but remainpowerless against cancer cells. I cant wait to hear your OncotypeDX results, Emily. I hope they spare you furthertreatment.

Melissas ER+ and PR+ show her tumorwas dependent on both estrogen and progesterone. Years ago mypositive estrogen report led to the removal of both of my ovaries.Melissa will simply take anti-hormone drugs. Oophorectomies aremostly obsolete.

Melissas maternal grandmother diedyoung from breast cancer so Melissa had genetic testing. Withoutthose positive results, Melissa would probably have simply had thelump and a few lymph nodes removed. Stats show lumpectomy withradiation is as effective as mastectomy. But because of the BRCA2+,Melissa chose a preventative bi-lateral mastectomy.

In the past, reconstruction aftermastectomy often resulted in rock hard breasts with askew nipples.Today the results are stupendous, not just for movie stars likeAngelina Jolie, but also for thirty-year-old pharmacists likeMelissa.

I thank God for medical advances,Emily. But more information means you and Jeff have to make manymore difficult decisions. So I pray for your wisdom and strengthand wise counsel and peace in knowing the two of you made the bestdecisions you could based on the knowledge you had at thistime.

During a lifetime of curling up overvolume after volume of literature, Ive concluded that peoplesemotions havent changed through the ages. So though cancertreatments are gentler now, Emily, we both know the shock of abreast cancer diagnosis remains a harsh one.