kellygullo's Cancer Blog
September 24, 2007
The shock of my life came when I discovered that the lump I found myself was indeed cancer. At 38 years old, life was supposed to happen this way: have children, raise them to graduate and become adults, watch them get married and have grand children and then retire off into the glorious sunset with my husband. But (sound of record scratch here) life doesn’t guarantee any of us a smooth ride.
When I found a lump after a self breast exam, I asked my husband what he thought it could be. He said, “You can’t have cancer, you’re too young.†I went to my obstetrician and she said, “It’s probably nothing serious, but we’ll have you set up for a mammogram anyway.†The tone in her voice said something else, however. I walked up behind the doctor as she was scheduling the mammogram… her voice had a peculiar urgency to it while she was speaking with the receptionist. I don’t think I wanted to believe anything like cancer could rear its ugly head in my life so I chose not to look at this “sign†that I needed to prepare for the worst.
I went to my mammogram a week later. That day, I was actually talking and joking and “knowing†it was going to be a benign cyst. They took many pictures of the spot where my lump was found. It was down in the lower left quadrant of my breast – it wouldn’t have shown on the mammogram films because it was located so far down. They had me sit in the waiting room while they looked at the films. I thought nothing of it. Silly me. They ushered me into a room to speak with the radiologist. I remember sitting there, still in my hospital gown, thinking about the things I had to do for the day… get my children’s hair cut… groceries… floors were getting pretty dirty… weekend looked pretty uneventful… then the radiologist walked in. “Hi Mrs. Gullo, I’m Dr. XXXXX, I am concerned about your films and let me explain why.†What?? Why the concern? Don’t say concerned I thought to myself. “Mrs. Gullo†she continued. “I see a lot of abnormal calcifications which to me represents breast cancer.†The next information I hear is garbled, I can’t understand what she’s saying. It sounds like the Charlie Brown cartoon when the adult is talking… “Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah.†I bet if someone asked me my name I wouldn’t have been able to tell them at that point in time. I can recall bits and pieces of this day… the doctor mentioning biopsy, core needle aspiration, ultrasound, black spot with calcifications … yes, probably cancer. I laid there silently crying while they biopsied two areas – the lump and the area where there were swollen lymph nodes. Lymph nodes as well? Am I going to die?
I asked the doctor to please call my husband. I couldn’t speak to him myself. She would do this if I needed her to… but she was very busy. Imagine that. I can’t remember driving home that day. In fact… this whole year has been a blur. I remember meeting with the team of oncologists at the Cleveland Clinic (I switched to a different hospital because of my initial experience with the radiologist at the other hospital). They were extremely thorough and patient with me. They wanted to get started with chemo right away. I was to go through 8 treatments every two weeks (the dose-dense method) taking doxorubicin (A), paclitaxel (T), and cyclophosphamide ©. I was also administered a neulasta shot one day after every treatment.
I remember losing my hair in the shower. I remember crouching in the shower, holding the hair in my hands and crying. I hated my wigs! I wore mostly scarves all the time. I remember getting so sick. I remember the fatigue – a “tired†feeling that doesn’t go away even after 10 hours of sleep. I remember being so sick, but having to go on being a mother and wife. Life doesn’t stop and wait while you recover! Maybe that’s actually what kept me sane. I was fine getting prepared for surgery. I knew I was going to lose a breast. I knew I was doing this to reduce my chances of having a recurrence. I had to have a modified radical mastectomy because of the extensive amount of DCIS. It wasn’t until about two weeks after surgery that I had my first meltdown. I had death on my mind 24/7. I cried uncontrollably at the drop of a hat. I don’t know now, looking back, if that was because of the drugs (percocet) I was taking… or if the reality of what I was going through came crashing down on me all in that one instant.
I was devastated during this time in my life. I asked myself many times why I didn’t have a mammogram sooner? If I had gone at 35 years of age… how would things have been? But, I realize that you can’t go back and change the past. It is what it is and now I have to fight with everything I have to stay alive for my children, my husband, my family and my friends.
So many people helped me through this experience. I look back now since finishing up with radiation and everything else that I’ve endured … and am amazed by all the wonderful people who were standing beside be, guiding me, helping me, carrying me through this tumultuous time in my life. I don’t know how I could’ve made it through without them. I think about all the people out there who don’t have the support network that I was fortunate enough to have. I think of the single mothers, the elderly, the lonely ones who have to endure an illness like this and it breaks me. I think that if I’m going to be around (1 year, 5 years or 20 years?) that I’ll try to help these souls. It’s so important to make a difference in this world and to help others. It’s what life is all about – isn’t it? There’s the Race for the Cure, 3-Day Walk and all kinds of wonderful fundraisers to devote your time towards – but in addition, helping one person at a time could also make a tremendous difference in the world.
Jill – This is a wonderful site! Thank you for creating it and for paying it forward.
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10.15.08 - 
Thanks for your support -
Kelly – That is such an amazing journal entry. I can totally relate. I love the charlie brown reference. That happened to me so many times. wah, wah, wah. It still happens. I love that you are doing so much now to give back. Thanks for sharing your story.
Kelly,
I am 38 years old as well. You can never think that an earlier mammogram would have worked. I have a high history of breast cancer in my family and I have been getting mammogram/sonogram for the past 5 years. I still ended up with Stage III. I had a similar scenario where the first hospital radiologist was terrible and I moved to a premier cancer facility. Feel free to contact me anytime because our scenarios are similar.
Melissa
Hi Kelly thank you for sharing your story. This let’s people know that they are not alone.
Keep us posted and how things are going with you.
” We need to help each other”
Hug’s Sherri
Kelly,
I read your comments on my blog. I chose not to do radiation because for my stage of cancer the statistics were 50/50 for helping a local recurrence, however, the statics were higher for a metastatic recurrence(women that had radiation had a higher rate of metastatic recurrence). The doctors recommended radiation because it is protocol. I just chose to take my chances. Also, I am sure your reconstruction will be fine. I know the process will be longer for you due to radiation. Your skin has to heal completely and you want a plastic surgeon that advises you to wait and take time for your skin to heal. Keep me posted on the reconstruction.
Melissa
I know what it’s like to wonder what if I would have had know earlier.. You can’t beat yourself up about what could have been. Just thank the Lord everyday you found it when you did.
I was 6 months behind on my yearly exam. I never get behind but I did this time. I ran that through my mind for months. “If I would have known sooner it wouldn’t have went into my lymphnodes, but I can’t change that.. I just have to thank God for what I got through and live my life.
The feeling of death being at your doorstep will soon past. You will learn to know your body and what doesn’t feel right and what does. I like to think that I am healthier now then most people that didn’t go through chemo.. I look at it as if we had are body cleaned out of all the nasty cells and got a fresh start. I feel better knowing that when I have an unexplained pain now the doctors won’t mess around they will check it out.. That’s our advantage we will be taking more seriously when we don’t feel good.
You are young and beautiful and we have so much life left. We will be grandma’s someday telling our breast cancer stories and how we kicked cancer’s butt!
Kelly,
I know exactly what you are talking about. I have had all those questions plus. My oncologist and I have had many a disagreement and he thought I should monitor all the info I was reading, hell no, I am entitled to know it ALL. I am almost 2.5 years out. My breast surgeon,my oncologist and I need to speak to my gyno, think I should have my ovaries/fallopian tubes removed soon! This has been in the back of my head for some time now.I felt I needed time to heal. WOW, more surgery what a great thing. Essentially I know you have good and bad days and we are entitled our feelings. It is important to honor your feelings no matter what anyone else feels. We had CANCER!This isn’t small. So you are not crazy for all the feelings, you are Cancer Normal!
Hi Kelly,
Hope you are doing good. Mind over matter, it’s hard sometimes but that’s what I tell myself always. Have a happy day!
Anne :)