The Cancer Effect

By Claudia Bretzing

The Cancer Effect shares Claudia Bretzing’s tender and ultimately triumphant journey to conquer third stage hormone receptor positive breast cancer. Her autobiography draws a grueling picture of the effects of cancer on her life, vividly describing how her life was turned upside down and inside out. From the shock of diagnosis in 2009, Cla

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudia A. Bretzing
• Release date: Sep 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9780999859766

Claudia Bretzing

I am a wife, mother, grandmother and a stage 3 breast cancer survivor. When I was diagnosed, it was a shock to discover that the small change in the appearance of my breast was actually hormone receptor positive breast cancer. One day I was fine, and in one small moment, my entire life changed course. My book is titled The Cancer Effect for a reason. Besides the obvious physical effects of cancer, I was forced to face the emotional, spiritual and mental effects no one tells you about. But there are also positive effects - the Cancer community is one of the most giving, loving, supportive group of people I've ever known. If there's one cancer effect I'm grateful for, it's the people I've come to know through this journey. When I began writing this book, I wrote with the intention of helping others who were diagnosed with cancer. That is still my hope, but writing has come with an unexpected bonus. As I allowed myself to gradually open and scrutinize my complex emotions, I achieved personal healing. I hope it helps others do the same. On a more personal note, I've been married to the love of my life, the best companion and support I could ever have along this journey, for 43 years. We have six children, and sixteen grandchildren, so far! Through Randy's service in the Air Force, we have lived throughout the country and in Germany. One of my fondest memories is performing as a member of the BYU Philharmonic Orchestra as a violinist. I love to do crafts and sew gifts for my family. I live in Arizona but love to travel and visit my far-flung family. Being with them is my greatest joy.

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The Cancer Effect

Copyright © 2018 by Claudia Bretzing - All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, or distributed in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without specific written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher are illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

Disclaimer: The information and experiences in this book are not intended to replace any advice, medical or otherwise, and are not to be used or relied on for any diagnostic or treatment purposes. The author and/ or publisher do not endorse or disclaim specifically any test, treatment, procedure or course of action mentioned in this book. The reader should always consult his/ her health care provider before making any health care decisions or for guidance about any health-related condition. The author and/ or publisher expressly disclaim responsibility, and shall have no liability, for any damages, loss, injury, or liability whatsoever suffered as a result of the reader’s reliance on the information contained in this book. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

Envoy Publishing

Peoria, AZ 85383

Print and e-Book Interior Design: Dayna Linton, Envoy Publishing

Cover Art: Abigail E. Fowkes

Library of Congress Control Number: Pending

ISBN: 978-0-9998597-7-3 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-0-9998597-6-6 (e-Book)

Second Edition: 2018

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

Printed in the USA

THE CANCER EFFECT

Copyright

Foreword

Foreword By My Daughters

Introduction

Chapter 1: The Discovery

Chapter 2: Coping

Chapter 3: Surgery

Chapter 4: The First Chemo

Chapter 5: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Chapter 6: The New Plan

Chapter 7: Undaunted

Chapter 8: The Final Chemo

Chapter 9: My Never-Ending Story

Chapter 10: New Challenges

Chapter 11: The Trouble With Drugs

Chapter 12: Instead, I Have Curls

Chapter 13: Help in Healing

Chapter 14: The Fear Syndrome

Chapter 15: More Than Just Surviving

Book Club Discussion Questions

Acknowledgments

About the Author

The Cancer Effect is a compelling testament of the struggles faced on a patient’s journey to battle the horrifying effects of breast cancer treatment and its uncertain outcomes. As a breast cancer surgeon, I consider this book to be an essential companion for anyone diagnosed with breast cancer. I read of the agony of this terrible disease yet was uplifted by Claudia’s strength and courage to beat cancer, whatever the cost. Her book will guide the reader to understand the cancer journey with more clarity and compassion and provide insights not only for the patient but family and loved ones.

Edgar Hernandez MD MS FACS,

Author of On the Border of a Dream,

and Earth Angel with a Green Card

As I held a copy of the rough draft of the book you are now holding in your hands, my heart was torn. Was I ready to read about my sweet mother’s journey with cancer? Was I ready to encounter her deepest thoughts—the triumphs along with the pain? Would I feel guilty wishing I could have helped her more? I decided to take the plunge; to face whatever feelings and fears that might resurface. How grateful I am that I did! The Cancer Effect is not just about cancer—it is about hope. It speaks of life and how to move past our fears, whether that fear comes from a disease like cancer or something else. It’s about the resilience of the human spirit and the need for love and support from family and friends as we journey through life. It’s about finding strength and encouragement as we cling to hope. I cherish these and other lessons I have learned while reading The Cancer Effect . My mom has blessed the world with the gift of her story.

—Julie

I’m a mother of three beautiful, noisy, energetic boys, and as a result, a lover of Super Heroes. In the past ten years, I have seen more superhero movies than any other type of movie. It is very common in our home to seriously discuss which superhero is the strongest, has the best superhero powers, and ultimately which one is the coolest of them all. There have been some intense debates on this discussion resulting in timeouts, loss of television privileges, and Dad getting put to bed early.

When my mother learned she had cancer, I was with her at the park. I saw her reaction, my father’s response, my siblings’ struggle with the news, yet I wasn’t sure how to react. I was stunned and unsure of my feelings. I’ve never experienced something like this involving someone I love so dearly, and I’m not very good at showing my feelings or expressing them. It was easier for me living far away while she went through this trial. I heard updates through phone calls and messages, but I never saw her in the midst of the battle. Distance made it easy to believe everything would be fine. I continued to pray for a full recovery, and I felt she was being watched over and protected. Time passed much quicker for me than my mother, and before I knew it, she was coming up to visit, feeling much better. She came with a ray of sunshine in her eyes, just as I always remembered her. She told me she planned on writing a book about her experience. I was so excited and knew that by sharing her journey, so many lives would be blessed and even changed. I couldn’t wait to read it!

The exciting day came when I got to begin reading my mother’s book. Little by little, she would give us pages to read critique (it was literally impossible for me to critique her writing, I felt it was always perfect). As I read each page, I gained a deeper level of understanding of what she went through, along with my dad and my siblings. Her story is so real, so beautiful, and so unique. The time had come for me to face the emotions I successfully avoided for so many years. The way she writes made me feel like I was there with her the whole time. I cried with her, I laughed with her, I felt her fear and worry, and most importantly I felt peace and comfort with her. I began to understand what she went through and I saw how she chose to fight and continue to live life as fully as possible. As I read her book, I began to realize that my sweet, smiling ray of sunshine mother is a real-life Super Hero! In fact, (spoiler alert) the elementary school where she taught while battling cancer honored her as a Hale Hero with a portrait of her painted on the exterior of the school building. When reading her book and getting to know who she truly is, there will be no debate, Claudia Bretzing is the coolest Super Hero of them all!

—Autumn

It’s never easy to find out someone you love has cancer. In my case, it was my mom. I was there when she received the dreaded phone call, and my heart sank when she shared the news with several other family members who were present with me. It was a beautiful, summer day in Utah. It was my dad’s birthday, and as part of the day’s festivities we chose to spend some time at a nearby park. It didn’t seem right. How could the sun be shining so brightly when we had just received such gloomy news? It was just another summer day for everyone around us, but for me, time seemed to stand still. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. How could this be? So many questions flooded my mind. How bad was it? Would she have to endure chemo? Was she going to be ok? There were no immediate answers to any of these questions. I could only pray and have faith that all would turn out for the best.

My mom is truly an inspiration to me. She handled this challenging trial with such grace and perseverance. No, it wasn’t easy for her, but she kept moving forward and never lost hope. I marvel at how she was able to continue teaching second-grade in between chemo sessions. I admire her for writing her story and publishing it in hopes of helping others who are experiencing a similar trial or who may be watching someone they love go through it. Her book is a treasure to me, and countless others will cherish it for generations to come.

—Kristy

My mom is the bravest, strongest, kindest person I’ve ever met. She is my hero. She has overcome so much with such courage and strength, all the while holding our family together. If anyone out there has been a victim of cancer, whether it be yourself, a family member or a friend, I encourage you to read her book because it will provide strength, comfort, and support. I love you, Mom!

—-Kimberly

I’m a full believer of everything happening for a reason. There are no accidents. We have each and every experience for a reason. They help us grow and become stronger if we allow them to. That is precisely what Mom has done with her battle with breast cancer. Did she wish to have this happen to her? Does anyone? Yet through it all, she kept her faith burning bright and allowed it to help her grow and become stronger. As I read her book, it inspired me in ways that I didn’t think were possible. I found myself having a deeper appreciation for the life I have and wanting to hold my loved ones closer. Thank you, Mom, for digging deep and finding the courage to share your story because it has strengthened me and will continue to help others in the future!

—Whitney

It was as if I always knew this would be my family’s trial. Being the youngest, I was very protective of my mom, my best friend. Even as a young girl getting tucked into bed at night, I would need reassurance that my mom did not have cancer to ease my worrying mind. Why? I suppose I was somehow being prepared for what was to come. July 7, 2009, was the day we got the dreaded phone call. It was the summer before my senior year of high school—the year usually spent making free-spirited memories, anticipating graduation, deciding which university to attend and planning for the future. My experience proved to be different. My mom’s diagnosis of stage-3 breast cancer shattered my world. My worst fear for as long as I could remember was now my reality. The trembling thoughts of worst-case scenario crept into my mind. What is a girl supposed to do without a mother during the years she needs her most? I wasn’t ready to imagine a future without her. 

My mom is more aware than anyone else of the struggle I have with carrying worry and fear in my heart. Although she faced a daunting situation, she rarely showed fear herself. Instead, she continued to shower me with peace through her own time of adversity. That was the kind of person she was and still is today. I’m not sure if anyone else would have handled her situation as gracefully and selflessly as she did, despite the constant suffering she endured.

The Cancer Effect dives deep into the raw emotions and thoughts of a wife, a mother, a teacher, a friend whose world was turned upside down with a cancer diagnosis. It is a journey of optimism through the daily battles and heartache that accompany such a disease. Those years were far from easy, but I’m so thankful that my mom is still here to tell her story today. I know she will only continue to spread her light and bring peace to others, just as she has done with me.

—Brittany 

To Randy, who lifted, strengthened, and loved.

I am a cancer survivor.

What does it mean to survive? A simple dictionary definition would be to live through a life-threatening experience. I am here to say I survived the necessary treatments designed to rid my body of cancer cells. However, my cancer journey has taught me that surviving encompasses so much more. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said, To live is to suffer. To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.

This book took me six years to write because I needed that long to understand surviving. When I learned I had breast cancer, being cured was my only objective and the reason I searched for a doctor and treatment plan that I could trust.

There was nothing that could have sufficiently prepared me for the physical crusade ahead, but science had a plan. Years of study and research along with considerable amounts of money have been expended to assist a cancer patient in the quest to survive physically. With a cancer diagnosis, the primary focus is to eliminate the enemy.

Physically surviving took all my time and energy, and after eight months, I finally achieved my goal. I thought I had arrived and was finished, only to find I faced another obstacle, one I was not expecting.

Side effects from months of chemotherapy, the fear of cancer returning and invading other areas of my body, and struggling to discover my new normal sent me spiraling. Just as I floundered when I first received my cancer diagnosis, I lacked direction trying to survive emotionally. Unfortunately, the medical books don’t offer a clear-cut treatment plan for emotional survival.

One breast cancer survivor described it as a race. When we all began this journey, our eyes were on the finish line. When our physical bodies reached that point, which symbolized the end of treatment, we realized that our emotions were back at the starting line. We didn’t have the strength to carry them with us or even acknowledge their existence. It was all we could do to survive the physical torments of chemotherapy and radiation. Now we had to go back and bring our emotional selves along to the finish.

When I started this book, I wrote with the intention of helping others who faced a cancer diagnosis. That is still my hope but writing my story came with an unexpected blessing. As I delved into and explored my complex emotions, I achieved personal healing.

At first, I thought the last chapter would be The Final Chemo, but when I reached that point, I knew I needed to tell more of my story. The number of pages far exceeded my expectations just as the effects of cancer extended miles beyond my first vision of the journey’s end. Every step forward with this book, though slow and often plodding, turned into a significant stride towards learning and self-discovery.

Each person must make a choice when faced with life’s challenges. We can strive to find the lessons and opportunities for growth, or we can merely survive the best we can and move on after the storm, never bothering to clean up the clutter. It is easier to abandon the mess, but infinitely better to pick through the rubble and come face to face with reality. With this newly acquired knowledge, it is then our responsibility to share it and calm the storm for the next victim.

I discovered one must be careful when digging through the wreckage to not get caught in the muck. At times, I bogged down and despaired at the overwhelming emotions I faced and had to force myself to get moving again. I needed to do more than physically survive. I needed to eliminate the fear that one remaining cancer cell would emerge to disrupt my life. Though I could not change the threat of reoccurring cancer, I had to realize faith and fear cannot co-exist. A vital part of my recovery came when I reached this point.

Allowing others to see me from the inside out isn’t comfortable, but if my story helps another cancer patient, it will be worth it. If my words help you know you’re not alone on this journey, and if you find hope and courage in these pages, I have succeeded in more than just surviving.

This book ends, but my story does not. It continues as I keep learning lessons about surviving cancer. I don’t expect the road ahead to be free of struggles and surprises, but I no longer fear, and I’m comfortable with what I have become through this process. I am better equipped to face whatever the future may hold. Yes, I’m a survivor, and even if my battle resumes, I’m still victorious because I learned to believe, trust, and have faith in God’s plan for me.

I am not afraid of storms,

for I am learning how to sail my ship.

                                    –Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

I didn’t know how long I had been staring at the same page in the tattered magazine I held. My thoughts were not on the small waiting room or the bubblegum pink paper gown I wore, but on my mother, who once had a lump in her breast. A minor surgery like hers, and the benign results would surely be the worst I would have to endure. Stay positive , I commanded myself.

My thoughts briefly took me back to earlier in the morning as I prepared for my mammogram appointment. My mind was focused on a mental list of all the things I needed to do once my routine exam had finished. When I walked through the office doors, I anticipated the usual procedure of undressing from the waist up, the imaging, redressing and exiting unruffled through those same doors. Mentally checking the appointment off my list, I would be free to complete the rest of my plans for the day.

I must admit I secretly had some trepidation, due to the unusual change on the surface of my breast. When did I notice it? I don’t remember. It concerned me enough to make an appointment with my nurse practitioner, whose recommendation brought me to this point, just eleven months after my clear last mammogram. Eleven months. What could possibly change in eleven months? That alone gave me some comfort and reassurance.

With the standard mammogram over, I still couldn’t exchange the scratchy gown for my clothes. The doctor requested more imaging and the staff asked me to sit and wait. Apparently, my feigned confidence could not deceive modern science. The monster camera must have sighted something unusual.

All of the worries I had effectively brushed aside for months, I now faced head-on. My knee bounced nervously, and I wished I could be anywhere else in the world but on this hard chair. A beautiful, hot summer day reigned outside, but suspicions arising from the mammogram clouded my world and sent chills throughout my body. Surely, this second, cautionary test would prove all was well. My mind raced in circles between feeble attempts at thinking positively and the realization something might be wrong.

Again, I reasoned everything would turn out fine, just as it had with my mom. Always checking No to the question, Is there a history of cancer in your family? had reassured me in the past. To my knowledge, cancer had never plagued a member of my immediate family.

The haunting fact that I didn’t know anything about my birth father shouted at me to be honest with myself. He disappeared from my life when I was an infant, leaving half of my genetic make-up a mystery. Would knowing my complete family history make a difference?

The gentle voice of the lab technician interrupted my thoughts. We are ready for you. Why did the simple act of standing seem so burdensome? I felt a hundred pounds heavier.

She led me to the ultrasound room, trying to engage in small talk. I tried to answer politely but found it hard to concentrate with my heart pounding in my ears. I attempted to keep up with her brisk pace as I followed her into the unfriendly, sterile room where my nightmare began.

Then again, is that really where everything started?

As a second-grade teacher, I teach my students the simple concept that every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But my story doesn’t fit the formula—I don’t know when everything began. Microscopic cancer cells multiplied and invaded healthy tissue long before the outward symptoms appeared. During this time, I innocently carried on with my life, oblivious to the eventual betrayal to come.

My story doesn’t have an ending either. Confident I would see an end to cancer at the beginning of my journey got me through the worst days. But as anyone who has traveled the cancer road knows, it never really ends, unless you don’t survive.

Even though I have no idea when fate planted my feet on a road I never planned to travel, I do need to start this story somewhere. It seems natural to begin at my favorite time of year, about six months before the cancer effect turned my world upside down and inside out.

The Christmas of 2008 was as busy and happy a time as I can remember. Our son Doug had recently returned from two years in Taiwan as a missionary for our church. All five of his siblings, their spouses, and a host of nieces and nephews would be at our home for the holidays—a total of nineteen in all. I wanted everything to be perfect for my family, which meant hours of planning and preparation. Cherished Christmas traditions had evolved through the years with extensive decorating both inside and out, gingerbread houses, appealing desserts, games, and the music of the season. It was a profoundly joyful time, free of any worries or regard for subtle changes in my body that I chose to ignore or take precious time to consider.

After the New Year celebrations, I embarked upon my daily routine of teaching second grade. January was hectic with our study of penguins and whales and preparations for parent/teacher conferences. Had I noticed the inverted nipple on my left breast? If I did, I paid it little, if any consideration. It was probably nothing more than a typical sign of aging. I felt great, and I wasn’t concerned. Many things to do and countless events, including the birth of our eighth grandchild, crowded my world. Life could not be sweeter.

In March, we traveled to Utah to join family members for the wedding of our son, Doug, and his bride, Whitney. My first memory of thinking more than a few seconds about the change in my body happened then. As I got in the shower one morning, I glanced down and noticed the nipple on my left breast seemed more inverted than I previously remembered. Did I imagine it? I immediately checked for a lump but couldn’t find one. Since my mammogram last summer was unremarkable, I decided not to worry. It would be time for my yearly check-up this coming July, so I made a mental note to call and make an appointment when I got home. I recalled this office was usually booked out three to six months in advance so I shouldn’t delay. The matter concerned me so little I didn’t mention it to anyone.

April and May passed in a blur, two very hectic months for a school teacher, crammed with testing and all other necessary activities to tie up the end of the school year. I also prepared to teach summer school for the entire month of June. Had I followed up on my mental reminder to make my yearly appointment? Not yet. The nagging premonition I should take care of the matter kept growing. As it was now, I wouldn’t be able to get in until the end of the summer, or worse, the beginning of the next school year. I even considered waiting until I had time off in December. After all, these yearly exams always came out fine and to wait a few more months shouldn’t make any difference.

How long does it take to make a phone call? Probably two minutes if not placed on hold. While I was too busy to take time out of my hectic schedule, cancer cells continued to quietly divide and spread, invading my left breast as well as lymph nodes.

The last three days of May found my husband Randy and I involved in a youth activity for our church. We re-enact the days of the pioneers and the challenges they faced as they trekked through primitive, unsettled land to go west. The youth were divided into families of ten with a Ma and Pa to guide them. Randy and I were asked to be leaders of a group, and since we had done it before when our son was in high school, we were excited to participate again. This time our youngest daughter, Brittany, would be going. The committee that organized this trek thought of everything from renting wooden handcarts and choosing the rocky trail we would traverse, to the mundane food we would eat. Everyone dressed in authentic pioneer clothing and left all technology, from flashlights to cell phones, behind.

By design, the first day is the most difficult as we walk and push a handcart with all our provisions for twenty miles through the rough mountainous terrain near Prescott, Arizona. The second and third days we participate in more engaging activities such as pioneer games, killing and plucking a chicken for our dinner, and attending inspiring campfire programs.

During the first day of our long trek, I started out strong, excited for the adventure ahead. We began walking with our assigned families after a healthy breakfast of oranges, granola, and rolls. The energy of youth facing a new experience had everyone in good spirits as we covered relatively flat ground. Little did we know that the easiness of the way would be short-lived.

When we reached the base of the trail leading up the mountain, we stared in disbelief. What was required of our rickety wooden handcarts, not to mention our own feet was daunting. A four-wheel drive truck couldn’t make it up the trail much less a two-wheeled handcart powered by humans.

As we pushed and pulled over huge craggy boulders and through thick beds of sand, our endurance and enthusiasm for the task waned. Being the Ma of our little family, my job included maintaining a cheerful attitude and encouraging those who struggled. Hunter, one of the boys in our group, kept falling behind, so I decided to stay back with him while the rest kept up their slow but steady pace.

We trudged along, watching other families pass. By