It’s About You: Lynn Folkman’s Story

emailHeader760x1604_BlogResizeAt this year’s annual fall conference, Breast Cancer Today: Individual Treatments, Shared Experiences, we’re not just providing you with the unique information you seek; we’re offering you the chance to connect with others and learn that you’re not alone.  While being treated for breast cancer, Lynn Folkman went to her first-ever LBBC fall conference in 2009. She blogs about that day and the importance of creating the conference experience you want. Lucky for us, Lynn joined the team at Living Beyond Breast Cancer in 2012 as our Community Engagement Manager.

Lynn Folkman LBBC Fall ConferenceIt was fall 2009 – I had just completed chemotherapy, radiation therapy and was a few months into my year of taking trastuzumab (Herceptin) and I was exhausted. I found out about the LBBC Annual Fall Conference through one of my support groups and the thought of attending alone was too overwhelming for me, so I agreed to attend with a friend I met during treatment.

The conference that year was held at the Pennsylvania Convention Center. I was a bit nervous about attending, as I had previously worked at the Convention Center and still knew quite a few people there, and they did not know that I had breast cancer. As well, the tables were turned; I was a meeting planner and instead of producing the event, I was experiencing the conference as an attendee.

I was in an emotionally raw and vulnerable state. I was at the point in my treatment where I often wondered if or when I would ever feel like myself again. I was tired of hearing the comment, “You look really great!” I longed for a day where I could be invisible and no one would know that I had breast cancer. However, I was still mostly bald and there was no masking what I was currently experiencing. I was apprehensive about having to endure glances from people who knew me, which would be mixed with a combination of sympathy and trepidation.  They were used to the vivacious energetic Lynn, not the exhausted Lynn.  How could I possibly fake it when I did not even have the energy to do so?

A few things occurred that day which continue to deeply comfort my mind and spirit and reinforce the special place in my heart for the LBBC Fall Conference. Since it was my first time attending, I had no idea what to expect. The day began with the opening session, the speaker welcomed the group and then asked people how far out they were from the time of their diagnosis. When your year was called, you were instructed to raise your hand. One year and under, my hand went up. I don’t remember the exact breakdown, but it went something like this: 1-5 years, 5-10 years, 10-15 years, more than 15 years and so on.  What I do remember is being overwhelmed as I heard cheers and looked around the room and saw so many raised hands and proudly smiling faces.   Continue reading

It’s About You: Kate Garza’s Story

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KateGarza2 for 5 28Kate Garza is back with a new blog post for our fall conference blogging series, It’s About You. The yoga instructor, writer, wife and mother of three discusses the “breast cancer journey” concept, while discussing her own and her anticipation of Breast Cancer Today: Individual Treatments, Shared Experiences.

Everyone calls it a journey – the breast cancer journey. And if I weren’t so sick of that term, I would use it, too. It is descriptive to a point, and it allows other people to remember that you are not living the life you had in mind anymore. But this so-called “journey” is really more the life equivalent of being kidnapped, thrown into the trunk of a car and driven in the dark to an unknown location. That’s the image that flares in my mind anyway, when I hear “journey with breast cancer,” a junket with only sketchy clues about where you may end up. 

I was diagnosed with stage II invasive breast cancer at age 53, almost 2 years ago now, when my kids were 15, 16 and 17 years old. Life would have been complex enough with three kids moving up and out, but throw breast cancer on top of that project and I had more moving parts than I could track with sophisticated software. 

I had a fairly garden variety diagnosis of estrogen receptor-positive/HER2-negative breast cancer. I followed the standard treatment with lumpectomy, 8 cycles of chemo and 30 doses of radiation therapy. It was the most difficult health crisis I had run across in my life and treatment left me exhausted and brain-fried, but grateful that I traversed without complication. I finished a week before number one graduated from high school. After a month off for R&R, I began taking an aromatase inhibitor (AI), letrozole. 

After 3 months of difficult joint pain side effects, I switched to anastrozole. Again, the difficulties with pain and mobility arrived, but I stayed with the second medicine for 6 months until, completely frustrated and full of pain with every movement, I gave up. I was done. I couldn’t see the point of prolonging a life that felt this bad. Did I mention that I am a yoga instructor? I couldn’t move. Not even enough to practice the yoga that might help me feel better. And working, in my chosen profession, was out of the question. So by the time my second child graduated this past June, I was 2 months into my medication vacation and starting to feel much better. I could move again. Pain with walking and the sleepless nights were beginning to fade away.  Continue reading