About four weeks after finishing my final round of chemotherapy, I found myself being wheeled into the operating room. After many discussions with both my oncologist and surgeon, I decided to go with a lumpectomy. Now, before I go any further, let me say this—this decision is SO personal. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned throughout my cancer journey is that there isn’t always a “right” answer. The path you walk is yours and yours alone.
When it came time to decide, I leaned heavily on my doctors for advice and perspective, but even more importantly, I gave myself the mental space to think things through. I’ll never judge anyone for the choices they make when faced with cancer because everyone’s journey is unique. It’s about making the best decision for you with the information you have at the time, and that's exactly what I did.
A couple of days before surgery, pre-op began. I had another echo done, and more imaging, to make sure everything was in check. The day before surgery was a whirlwind—tumor markers were placed, more imaging was done, and then I had an injection of tracer fluid. Those markers would guide my surgeon to the exact location of the tumor, ensuring they could extract every last bit, while the tracer fluid was meant to light up my lymph nodes for easier identification.
The next morning, it was game time! I headed to the hospital for some last-minute imaging to confirm everything was in place, and before I knew it, I was being prepped for surgery. When I woke up, I learned everything went as planned—what a relief! As always, anesthesia tends to linger with me, so it took a little time to completely shake off my post-op fog.
A week later, I had my follow-up with my surgeon. I can’t even describe the relief when he told me the pathology results were in—they got everything, and my margins were clear. Praise the Lord! My sister, my husband, my entire family—we were all so thrilled. I thought, "This is it. This chapter is done." But little did I know, there was another chapter waiting to be written.
Two weeks later, I had an appointment with my oncologist, thinking we’d be talking about removing my port. If you have been following along, you can probably guess things didn’t go exactly as I expected. My oncologist explained that since there was still a small part of the tumor left (less than a third of an inch) when they went in for surgery, he recommended I undergo 12 additional rounds of chemotherapy. My heart sank. My stomach sank. I tried my best to hold it together and ask all the right questions, but it was hard. I felt like missed the finish line by one-third of an inch.
My oncologist reassured me that this next phase of treatment would be much easier than the first and that most people can maintain normal lives while on it. That all sounded fine, but honestly, I was struggling to process the news, let alone figure out how I would tell my family and friends. This phase of treatment is called adjuvant therapy.
If that wasn’t enough, I had my first appointment with my radiation oncologist later that day. It was an overload of information, but looking back, I’m glad I got it all done in one fell swoop. At least there was a plan, and time wasn’t wasted trying to figure out what to do next.
One bright spot in all of this was that both of my doctors gave me the green light to attend a family wedding out of state. It felt like a much-needed break—a mini vacation to reset before diving into the next phase of my journey. If I could give one piece of advice to anyone going through something similar, it would be this: if you can, take a little time for yourself. Whether it’s a weekend getaway or just a day to relax, it can make all the difference.
This journey has been full of unexpected twists and turns, but one of my daily goals is to find the silver linings wherever in situations. While I didn’t plan on more chemo or radiation, I know that this is part of the process, and I’ll take it one day at a time—just like I’ve done with everything else. And now, I am even more thankful for the support of my family, friends, and doctors.
In life, you continually have to keep moving forwards, and right now, this is how I am.


