Well Played, Universe

Exactly one year ago, I was lying in a PET scan machine three months after being taken off of the targeted chemotherapy I'd been on for almost three years. The next day, on the summer solstice, I received the news I shared here last October. You can go re-read it. I'll wait here and hope the link works as planned. 

I didn't think much could surprise us after what we've been through the last several years. Stage 4, metastatic breast cancer at 32 knocked the wind out of me. Being re-diagnosed with early-stage breast cancer and sarcoidosis made us feel like we were living in an episode of House. It took me nearly six months of therapy to be able to talk about it publicly. Talking about chemo-induced menopause and diarrhea had been easier.

Telling my cancer story at the Story Half Told launch in NYC, September 2015

Three months ago, the universe handed our family another earthquake: a very surprising positive pregnancy test. (When I say I'm good on surprises, the universe laughs. Well played, universe. Well played.) I had wanted this for so long, and mourned several times over because I figured it wouldn't happen again after all my body has endured. I knew I was lucky, though, and I think it's clear that I am intensely grateful for the boy wonder I do have. We had made peace with our family of three, but apparently Mother Nature had other plans.

So I reached out to no less than a half-dozen doctors (including friends who are doctors) in various fields about whether this was a good idea. Was my body healthy enough? Would the baby have 3 eyes? Will my cancer come back?

Every single one gave me the green light. An ultrasound at six weeks showed me the heartbeat and I sobbed into Chris's shoulder on the couch that night, still terrified about the potential risks or tough decisions we might have to make.

Tests at ten weeks said we were at low risk for chromosomal abnormalities and that it was a GIRL. I couldn't help it -- visions of the women's march and the sign I'd carried announcing "The Future Is Female" flashed through my mind.

My heart is feeling inspired and uplifted today witnessing millions marching for women's rights around the world, and participating here in Phoenix with these powerhouses. #thefutureisfemale #womensmarch #resist

A post shared by Jen Campisano (@jencampisano) on Jan 21, 2017 at 3:19pm PST

Was it fair to bring another woman into this world at this ominous point in time? I just read The Handmaid's Tale. There is legislation brewing as we speak that will make this pregnancy just one more preexisting condition to add to my list.

Another test at fourteen weeks said we were unlikely to see neural tube defects. What about breast cancer? I thought to myself. Can we put an end to cancer before she has to worry about it? Can they confidently tell me she'll be okay? That I will? Would I really want to know otherwise?

And earlier this week, we had an early anatomy scan, the high-resolution ultrasound that checks that all major body parts are developing properly. She does not appear to have three eyes. She seems perfect, if a bit camera-shy.

I'm midway through week eighteen and definitely sporting a bump that no longer looks like I just ate too many burritos.

We are in the early stages of figuring out how to remodel our house to accommodate a baby, who is slated to join our family around mid-November, just in time for Thanksgiving. I am grateful, I am more fired up about social justice than ever, and I am scared about my capacity to love another being as much as I love Quinn. He tells me I just will, that my heart will grow into it.

Photo by the remarkable Pei Ketron for Story Half Told

Around the Web

I took a break from the internet for most of last week (with the exception of this post)...

So this happened today. World, meet Luna.

A photo posted by Jen Campisano (@jencampisano) on Nov 11, 2014 at 1:55pm PST

Between chemo last Monday, Thanksgiving on Thursday, and family in town, I hardly turned on my computer. My dad and his wife came to visit for the week. We only debated a little bit about the recent elections, we ate turkey and pumpkin pie until our bellies ached, and we watched football (where Chris and Quinn cheered for the "Go Niners" and the rest of us celebrated the Seahawks).

And we adopted a dog.

It was exactly the week I needed. How about you? How did you spend your holiday?

Now to panic since it's December and I haven't started Christmas shopping yet. In the meantime, here's what caught my attention on the web over the past couple of weeks.

How Some Breast Cancers Become Resistant to Targeted Drugs

"The team determined that the tumors had developed six different mutations that led to drug resistance. But the result of all these mutations was the same: The tumors had lost the ability to express a protein called PTEN.

The findings suggest a new approach for combating drug resistance by taking advantage of the fact that not all PI3K inhibitors work using the same mechanism."

And What if We Could Drain Cancer's "Fuel Tank"?

They're not talking about dieting to starve a cancer cell.

"Blocking cancer cells' ability to generate the energy they need to grow and divide is an exciting new avenue for future cancer treatments. This research suggests that MCT inhibitors may be particularly effective against breast cancer 'stem cells' that can resist other treatments, and could prevent the cancer from coming back - but further work is needed to find out if these drugs can help patients. Cancer Research UK is funding trials of these drugs in a range of cancer types."

What if We Could Track Circulating Tumor Cells in the Bloodstream?

Before they settle down and form tumors, before they metastasize.

"Once they identified the cancer cells, the researchers were able to separate them from normal cells. This ability to isolate, culture and grow the cancer cells will allow researchers to zero in on the cancer cells that matter to the health of the patient. Most circulating tumor cells may not metastasize, and analysis of the cancer cells could identify those that will."

Are Preventative Surgeries Worth the Risk?

"For Mimi Cavalheiro, who is genetically at risk for both breast and ovarian cancers, the question of a diagnosis is not an “if” but “when.”

Cavalheiro is one of about 100 Bay Area women between 35 and 50 years old with the BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutations who are participating in a clinical trial that is examining changes in cardiovascular health, bone density, sexual function, quality of life and other effects on women who go into early menopause."

And, Yet... New Analysis Shows the Risks for a Secondary Breast Cancer are Significant in Those with Gene Mutations

We're talking about the BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene mutations again here.

"Women who are genetically susceptible to breast cancer and develop it in one breast are at higher than average risk for a tumor in the other breast, and that risk may increase as time goes on, according to a new analysis."

Why Does Immunotherapy Work in Some Patients But Not Others?

Memorial Sloan Kettering scientists may have some answers.

"'For the first time, it might be feasible to develop a reliable diagnostic test to help guide treatment decisions by predicting who will respond,' says physician-scientist Timothy Chan, who led the research. The findings could also inspire new research that potentially may lead to more-powerful immunotherapies for melanoma as well as for other cancers."

A Test for Mutations in Blood Cancers Could Provide More Treatment Options

“This is really the way of the future,” Steensma said. “We are going to be practicing medicine not based on how cells look under the microscope, but rather on what makes a disease tick.”

Thanks

In the spirit of the season, and without getting too mushy on you, I should let you all know what I am most thankful for this year: my dad's margins were clean. His doctors were able to remove all of the cancer. We got the news the day before Thanksgiving, in the midst of a spectacularly chaotic week at my mother-in-law's house. I cried, of course, when I saw my dad's text: "They got it all - all the edges are clear." Suddenly it didn't matter that Quinn hadn't napped in five days or that I'd been tethered to my laptop attempting to work with a clingy toddler pulling the threads of my sweaters loose or that we were trying to prep the house for a 13-person dinner while keeping Quinn out of the pool and away from Grandma's feral cat. My dad was cancer-free. There is nothing like the sense of calm that news brings.

I am also thankful for all of you for reaching out to ask me about my dad, for supporting me when I'm exhausted and scared and running on fumes, for bringing me dinner or calling me to let me cry or texting me pictures of another successful pub crawl that raised more than $1200 for metastatic breast cancer research. I can't say it enough: you guys rock. Thank you.

And I am thankful that I can help answer questions for another young mom who sent me a message last week with the news that she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her little boy is five months old; she had surgery today and will start chemo next month. I hate that anyone else has to go through this, has to cry into their pillow at two in the morning because cancer hit far earlier than it should, has to wonder if they'll get to watch their little boy grow up.

As Chris says anytime I get anxious about this: "You are watching him grow up."And so will this woman, who is also stronger than this damn disease.

Which brings me to what I'm continually thankful for - my boys. Quinn's arms wrapped tight around my neck as he says, "Rock, rock, rock" in the rocking chair before I put him to bed at night. Chris' arms wrapped around my waist in bed at night, as I cry over a woman I didn't know who died of lung cancer in a book I probably shouldn't be reading. Even when I'm at my worst (and holy cow does chemo give new meaning to that phrase: short-tempered, splotchy-faced, eyebrow-less), my boys keep me grounded - even if that means Quinn knocking me over and jumping on my back like I'm his personal trampoline - and remind me what this time of year is all about.

See? Only a little mushy.