From Triple Negative to Triply Positive: A Breast Cancer Survivor's Story of Hope

November 11, 2003—a day that forever changed my life.

I was a brand-new registered nurse beginning my orientation in the NICU at Children's Hospital of Michigan. I had just completed an accelerated second-degree nursing program at the University of Detroit Mercy while caring for my youngest daughter, who had been born with a congenital heart defect requiring multiple surgeries.

Life was busy and full. I was pursuing my dream career while raising four young daughters with my husband.

Then, while breastfeeding my youngest child, I felt a lump in my breast.

Trusting My Instincts

I immediately told my OB/GYN, who initially wanted to rule out a clogged milk duct. He recommended warm compresses for two weeks and said that if the lump was still there afterward, he would order a mammogram.

Two weeks later, not only was the lump still there, but I felt it had grown.

As promised, my doctor scheduled a mammogram. When I arrived, however, I was told that the imaging couldn't be performed because I was breastfeeding.

I refused to leave.

I insisted they contact my physician, who confirmed that he wanted the mammogram completed immediately.

While waiting, I asked the other women in the lounge what usually happened after a mammogram. They smiled and reassured me that I would probably receive a letter saying everything looked fine and to return in a year for routine screening.

That isn't what happened.

Instead, a nurse returned and told me the radiologist wanted a closer look with an ultrasound.

One Test Led to Another

During the ultrasound, the technician became unusually quiet, taking more and more images. She didn't say much, but I could tell something wasn't right.

Back to the waiting room I went.

After what felt like forever, the nurse returned again.

There was still something concerning.

I needed a biopsy.

When I asked when it would be scheduled, the answer caught me completely off guard.

"We'll do it right now."

The biopsy was performed that Friday.

Then I prayed.

Hearing the Words No One Wants to Hear

Monday arrived.

So did the phone call that changed everything.

My doctor told me I had a very aggressive form of breast cancer. My appointments with the oncologist and breast surgeon were already scheduled for two days later, and I would need to begin chemotherapy immediately.

Just like that, my priorities changed.

I left the dream job I had worked so hard to earn.

My new job became surviving for my daughters.

I was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer and told that the five-year survival rate was less than 50%.

Those words are impossible to forget.

The following weeks became a whirlwind of scans, appointments, and life-changing decisions.

The Hardest Fight of My Life

Chemotherapy began, and thankfully each scan showed the tumor shrinking.

That didn't make treatment any easier.

There was nausea.

Vomiting.

Neuropathy.

Weight gain.

Food tasted like metal.

My hair fell out.

I battled depression, pain, hopelessness, and a profound loss of my sense of self.

Still, through constant prayer and an incredible support system, I made it through six months of chemotherapy.

Next came a double mastectomy with reconstruction, followed by six weeks of daily radiation treatments.

Learning to See Strength Instead of Scars

Breast cancer left scars that weren't just physical.

It changed me mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded that I would never be the same.

Eventually, I realized that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Throughout treatment, I prayed that God would spare my life long enough to watch my daughters grow up.

At the time, they were just 10, 8, 4, and 2 years old.

Twenty-Three Years Later

God answered that prayer.

Today, more than 23 years later, my daughters are grown and successful in their own lives.

I've also earned a new title that brings me endless joy—"Gi-Gi" to two beautiful granddaughters.

Not everything survived cancer.

My marriage did not.

But we found a way to co-parent our daughters, and together we watched them become remarkable women.

Triple Negative, Triply Positive

When I was diagnosed, there were plenty of frightening statistics, opinions, and reasons to lose hope.

I chose not to let those voices define my future.

Had I listened to all the noise, I might not be here to tell my story today.

A diagnosis of triple-negative breast cancer is overwhelming. It is frightening. It is life-changing.

But I made a different choice.

I chose to be triply positive.

I chose faith.

I chose hope.

And I chose to fight like hell.

Twenty-three years later, I'm grateful every single day that I did.

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