Monday, November 11th, 2024
“You have carcinoma.”
The words no one wants to hear. Kylie got a phone call and was told this regarding her biopsy results. We had previously read the oncology report and suspected she might have cancer, but the terminology was beyond us.
Immediately, both our minds spiraled into the “what ifs” and the unknown. Breaking down in tears, we tried to comfort each other.
Then the hardest part began—the seemingly endless days of waiting to meet with the specialists. These specialists were going to tell us what kind of cancer Kylie had and how far along it was.
After nearly a week of waiting, we were finally going to get some answers. If I could describe that week, it felt agonizing—like a dark cloud hanging over us, with some unknown, monstrous force ready to destroy life as we knew it.
And yet, I had to keep reminding myself: it’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay. But there are also things we do know. If I wasn’t careful, the fears of the unknown would invade my mind and consume me with dread.
We knew we had an amazing support system.
We knew that no matter what happened, we were sealed in the temple and would be together forever.
We knew that Jesus Christ had felt all these worries, and He could bring us peace.
But we still had three more days to wait before meeting with the specialists. What were we going to do during those three days?
First, we reached out to Kylie’s parents, crying as we shared the news over the phone. This was a very sweet tender moment, and one that happened at 6 AM for them. They listened, cried, and shared support. Then we started letting others in our Church and community know what was going on. One of these individuals had been through breast cancer herself. She came over and spent a couple of hours sitting and talking with Kylie. She also organized a group of 10 priesthood holders to come to our home and give Kylie a Priesthood blessing.
That night, 10 men and their wives came to help. As I opened the door for each person and couple, I was met with warmth, hugs, and tears. We felt very supported and loved.
There was some small talk, followed by a heartfelt prayer from a dear friend. Then we gave Kylie a blessing of healing, calling upon the power of Jesus Christ and the priesthood. That evening, the Spirit was strong. Every person in the room felt peace and comfort.
This became a turning point in Kylie’s and my internal emotions. Peace began to permeate our hearts more deeply.
Love and concern poured in from our ward, friends, and family. People started making and delivering dinners, helping us take Emmie to school, and reaching out with messages of love and support. It was as if a swarm of kindness, goodness, and love enveloped us.
We were not alone. We had support, and it was life-changing.
How We Got Here
October 29th, 2024:
Kylie had her six-week postpartum follow-up appointment. The doctor examined her left breast, which we had noticed was swollen and had a red or purplish color. We had discussed it before and assumed it was engorged with milk. The doctor suspected it might be an abscess and scheduled Kylie for an ultrasound on Thursday, November 7th.
In the days leading up to the appointment, we waited and waited, googling symptoms and coming up with our own diagnoses.
Thursday, November 7th:
Kylie went in for an ultrasound on her left breast. The technicians didn’t tell her much; they simply informed her she also needed a mammogram. Then, after the mammogram, they told her she needed another ultrasound. Moving quickly from one test to the next without providing much information, they left Kylie feeling increasingly nervous—and understandably so.
After the tests, they scheduled her for a biopsy the very next day. When Kylie came home, she started googling potential causes and problems, trying to make sense of what was happening. We quickly learned that googling medical symptoms without proper guidance is not recommended. It only filled us with dread and fear.
Friday, November 8th:
Kylie went in for her biopsy today. It was painful, but now they had the samples to test. Unfortunately, because it was Friday, we had to wait until Monday to get the results. Once again, we got into Googling, trying to self-diagnose and understand what we thought was going wrong with her body.
We got through the rest of the waiting period from this Friday to the next Monday by staying off the internet and talking through some of the fears we had. We also spent a lot of time praying and speaking with God about our lives. This was the most anxiety-provoking weekend we’ve ever had, and it was so painful to wait for the biopsy results as well as the staging. But we made it through, despite the overwhelming uncertainty. There was also a lot of crying during this time—it was unavoidable, and in some ways, cathartic. But amidst this pain, I saw and was inspired by Kylie’s strength to go through this with faith that no matter what happens everything will be okay. This brings us back to the beginning of this blog, Kylie has Cancer and we will figure out what stage later in the week. As for now, we will pray and talk and rest on the support of those we love.
A New Beginning
Now that we knew what was going on, we could continue with the next steps. While it was still hard and difficult to understand why this happened, we finally knew what was wrong.
We still didn’t know what stage Kylie’s cancer was in or how far it had progressed. These were life-changing moments, and while this wasn’t how we expected our lives to unfold, it is what it is.
We are here, and we can’t change anything about the situation. But we can move forward with what we’ve been given.
11/12/13
Today I started work. Amidst all the stress and uncertainty, my paternity leave was up, and I had to start work again. Thankfully, my work has been incredibly understanding and flexible, lightening my load when needed and helping me be there for Kylie. I couldn’t ask for a better boss or place of employment.
While I was working today, I was listening to some music, and a cover of the song “Fix You” by Coldplay came on. As the chorus sang, “Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try… to fix you,” tears streamed down my face. I took off my glasses and just sobbed, praying to God for healing, hope, and help.
The fears were still there for both Kylie and me, which is only natural considering there is something ravaging my wife’s body from the inside out—a literal unknown entity that we cannot see or stop without help. Taking vitamin C won’t stop this monster.
Later today, as Kylie was giving a bath to our Tommy, she looked over her shoulder at me, tears in her eyes, and said, “Can you please take pictures of me with my kids?” So I did. And I started to take more from that day forward. She may die, and she wanted me to capture moments of her with her babies for them, so they can remember her through pictures… Wow, this is hard to write.
These were not just her thoughts, but mine as well. She could die from this, and it could be soon. But we never talked about it—only about what we were praying for God to do. Please bless Kylie to not be stage 4. Please bless her to be able to be healed. To us, at this stage of our life with cancer, we unknowingly thought stage 4 was a death sentence. Thankfully, though, after some research, I learned that modern medicine has made even full recovery from stage 4 possible in some cases. Of course, everyone’s body is different, and everyone starts treatment at different times. Some, unfortunately, when it’s too late. This was our fear—what if it’s too late? But deep down, we know it’s not because she hasn’t been physically ill or sick or having other issues that would present if her body was failing.
Kylie had another breast MRI today, and they confirmed what we already knew.
So today, we just cried.
Amidst the pain and heartache, we have felt so much love and support. We reached out to friends and family to let them know about the diagnosis. The support we have felt from day one has been amazing. Texts, calls, and cards have been pouring in. The love and support have lifted us up.
11/13/14
I did some work today, but most of my day was spent with Kylie and the kids. It was a mostly normal day, just with the uncertainty surrounding the diagnosis that is coming tomorrow. So, more tears were shed.
Willie and I went out and ran some errands and bought some ornament hangers. The kids have been wanting to set up our Christmas tree already. I am all for it because of the special feelings Christmas brings to my heart as we focus on the Savior.
We pulled out our tree and decorated it, Kylie bought some pink ornaments—our new Christmas color. Decorating the tree with Christmas music on lets us forget for a moment the hardships we are in the midst of. It also reminded me that happiness and joy can even be found in the darkest of times. The kids don’t know anything yet and even if they did, their innocence would still shine through with joy, excitement, and happiness at decorating a Christmas tree.
Later that evening, at bedtime, I came into Kylie and Tommy’s room to help Kylie get things ready before bed for Tommy. Then, after Tommy was in bed, and before I went to bed, I snuggled with Kylie, rubbing her head until she fell asleep.
Tomorrow we will have the meeting with all the doctors and specialists to figure out the staging and what the next steps are. As we wait for answers tomorrow, I’ll continue to share the journey with you all—both the hard moments and the beautiful ones.
#kyliebeatscancer