My Journey Continues – Part 4

After completing my radiation treatments and beginning adjuvant hormone therapy with daily tamoxifen, I finally felt a sense of relief. I was ready to focus on recovery and had my next routine mammogram scheduled for early December 2024.

I mapped out a recovery plan centered on clean eating, mostly organic and unprocessed foods, cutting alcohol down to almost none, starting a consistent exercise routine, and finding a functional medicine doctor who specialized in cancer care.

Over the next eight months, I accomplished all of it. I felt stronger, healthier, and proud of the changes I was making. My functional medicine doctor ran extensive bloodwork and genomic tests, then placed me on targeted supplements to support healing. I joined a gym and committed to three days a week of strength training and cardio, along with daily walks—sometimes even twice a day.

Even with all these positive changes, the looming mammogram appt made me anxious. I knew this anxiety would likely stay with me for every future scan.

December 8th 2024 finally arrived. I went in hoping for the best—but when the radiologist kept reviewing the same area over and over, my heart sank. That familiar wave of panic surged through me. Sure enough, they told me they saw something suspicious, this time in my left breast and needed to do an ultrasound.

The ultrasound confirmed it, and I was scheduled for a biopsy.

Just like that, my world stopped again for a second time!

It was December—normally a joyful, festive month—but all I could think was, What if it’s cancer again? The waiting period after the biopsy felt endless, just like the first time.

Then came the diagnosis: a second breast cancer, this time in my left breast. It was small, but more aggressive—Triple Negative Breast Cancer. I broke down, devastated that this was happening again. This wasn’t a recurrence; it was a brand-new tumor.

My immediate thought was clear: I wanted a mastectomy. I felt that the breasts I had loved all my life had failed me, and I wanted them gone. I told my surgeon right away, and he agreed to do the mastectomy. He also explained that I would need chemotherapy—both because Triple Negative is more aggressive and because this was my second cancer in just two years. Precautionary chemo was necessary to eliminate any cells that might be lingering.

Hearing those words—you need chemotherapy—was almost as terrifying as hearing you have cancer. I had done everything in my power during my first diagnosis to avoid chemo. But this time, there was no alternative. I had to face it if I wanted to live, and I began preparing myself for the journey ahead.

Meanwhile you can write a comment for me here or email me directly at   nora@juststylela.com with any questions you may have.

I am sharing this in the hope someone, somewhere can get comfort in learning from my experience and I want to help in any way 

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