Cervical Cancer

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Cervical Cancer
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    What's New in Cervical Cancer
    Community Voices

    Surgery and Anxiety

    I’m undergoing surgery next week to remove some pre-cancerous spots on my cervix and I’m so anxious. It’s not just the surgery that has me anxious, it’s the possibility of what if all the pre-cancerous tissue doesn’t get removed and it develops into cancer? Yeah, I know, that’s what yearly exams are for and it’s not that big a deal, but I’ve never dealt with anything like this before so to me it’s a big deal and I’m so anxious… #Anxiety #CervicalCancer

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    Community Voices

    How has cancer impacted you or your family’s health story?

    <p>How has <a href="https://themighty.com/topic/cancer/?label=cancer" class="tm-embed-link  tm-autolink health-map" data-id="5b23ce6a00553f33fe98f050" data-name="cancer" title="cancer" target="_blank">cancer</a> impacted you or your family’s health story?</p>
    Community Voices

    Sadness on an anniversary of an amazing HUMAN AUNTIE

    <p>Sadness on an anniversary of an amazing HUMAN AUNTIE</p>
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    Community Voices

    Drawing strength from those we love

    Today is my Auntie Debbies birthday up there in the sky. What I wouldn’t do to be able to call her up and sing our special version of happy birthday…. honestly I have absolutely no idea how that special, albeit strange rendition started and why, but it was ours that much I do know. My aunt passed away unexpectedly on October 17th, 2014. Her 61st birthday was two weeks prior on the 2nd. Through the years she fought and conquered breast cancer only years later be diagnosed with cervical cancer, but won that battle too. In the end we now know that cancer had returned a third time and I will always believe in my heart that she knew this was the battle she would not win.

    Auntie Debbie and my Uncle Frank had a very well established, expanding global business. A week prior to her passing, she and my uncle received acknowledgment  for achieving every one of their goals.  Hard work, effort and absolute dedication in the face of her inner struggle, they had become a “Diamond”.  What her business refers to it as one of its highest honors.  watching the video of her speech I realized, not for the first time, the  strength and fortitude she had, realizing her time with us was growing shorter.  The true smile on her face, knowingwhat she did was to accomplish exactly what she set her goal to be. I need to add that this was at an arena setting with the capacity of thousands.She was an impeccable speaker whether it was about the business or life experiences, advice on life’s curveballs as well as navigating them through her own experience. She was full of love, compassion, kindness with powerful intelligence and unwavering support for every one she knew.Whether An acquaintance ,friend, close friend or loved one, she always treated everyone the same way. I was and have been completely blessed to have two amazing, incredible, strong and fierce women by my side. One of them being my late Auntie Debbie and the other, my one in a million best friend, my mother. I wish someone would just come out with it and say something actually true instead of the same old “it gets easier with time”. Sorry but I call bullshit on that phrase. It’s been 7 years and I can without a shadow of a doubt say. in all honesty, it doesn’t become easier with time but I do know my love continues to grow and I am proud to have had her as a role model in my life.Because as I struggle with the challenges my own illiness I find strength in the lifemy Aunt lived.

    Community Voices


    Last week I was diagnosed with cervical cancer, this is on top of a spinal injury, chronic pain, depression and PTSD. My doctor thinks it really early stage cancer, my smear test flagged it, but I feel like giving up. Completely defeated I don't know how much more I can take. I have a MRI on Monday to check how far if it all the cancer has or has not spread. With a hysterectomy surgery soon to follow (thankfully I wasn't planning any more kids). I don't know what to think or do

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    Community Voices

    5 people are talking about this
    Community Voices


    Brandi Fulton

    The Reality of a 'Typical' Day, Week and Year With Health Anxiety

    One day. 5 a.m. I’m frantically Googling the percentage of people diagnosed with lymphoma at stage four, the life expectancy of lymphoma under 40 and rare side effects of chemotherapy. 1 p.m. I’m giving myself a Romberg test I saw on YouTube to see if I have sensory ataxia. 7 p.m. I’m measuring my blood pressure in eight-minute intervals to see if I have orthostatic hypotension. I take it five minutes after lying down, 30 seconds after standing up and two minutes after I sit. I lie, I sit, I stand, lie, sit, stand, lie, sit, stand. My left arm is covered in red scratches from scraping the machine cuff on and off. Seven days. Monday: I’m bent over the toilet with my iPhone flashlight examining my poo to see if it’s black, pencil thin, smeared with blood, yellow, floating, fatty or covered in mucus. Tuesday: I’m taking many, many pictures of my poo. I do it with the lights on and off and then the flash on and off to get the most detailed pictures. I rush to the computer to compare it to the images of colon cancer found on MedicineNet, WebMD and the American Cancer Society’s website. Wednesday: I’m hiding in my closet and meticulously searching my breasts for lumps, swelling, thickening, dimpling, red nipples, nipple discharge and pulling near the nipples. Thursday: I’m taking pictures of my breasts from all angles and swiping back and forth between them to find the most detailed. I want to make sure I have the clearest one to compare to the breast cancer images found on Healthline, Mayo Clinic and the CDC’s site. Friday: In secret, I’m downloading a microscope app to examine my skin for moles that are asymmetrical, have irregular borders, are bleeding, waxy, scabbing, scaly or red. Saturday: I download an app that diagnoses moles, and it finds something suspicious. I anxiously wait until Monday to call my dermatologist in case I have squamous cell carcinoma, basil cell carcinoma or melanoma. Sunday: The day of rest. 12 months. January: I’m waiting an hour in my doctor’s waiting room for him to fill out a requisition form for a complete blood count, basic metabolic panel and lipid panel. He says, “40 is when things start to go wrong.” February: I’m playing phone games for two hours as I wait in line to have a diagnostic mammogram and breast ultrasound. My doctor is concerned and says, “Your sister died young from breast cancer. We just need to be careful.” March: I’m at my optometrist’s office for a full exam and she tells me to come back immediately if I start to see lots of floaters or flashing lights. “That means your retina is detaching,” she explains. April: A month off from diagnostic tests. May: I’m freezing on an exam table in a blue gown, naked from the waist up. My doctor hands me an ultrasound requisition form because, although he can’t feel a lump, “It’s hard to feel breast cancer in young women. Always come in as soon as you think you feel something!” June: I’m starving for 12 hours because my bowels have to be spotless for my flexible sigmoidoscopy. My internist has me in the fetal position, in agony, searching my rectum and lower colon for inflammation, ulcers, abnormal tissue, polyps and cancer. My mom warns me, “Brandi, colon cancer runs in our family.” July: I’m once again naked and freezing, waiting for the dermatologist to inspect my body for suspicious lesions because my mom said, “Me and all four of your siblings had skin cancer.” August: My doctor is on holiday. September: I’m pinched by an IV for three hours to prepare for a polypectomy and a dilation and curettage. My gynecologist is searching for uterine polyps because, “I see something suspicious on your ultrasound.” October: My neurologist is sending me for a CT scan because she says, “Your numbness, tremor and tingling are probably just anxiety but let’s rule out any sort of brain lesion.” November: I’m naked again, freezing again, waiting for my gynecologist to scrape my cervix because he says, “Cervical cancer is rare, but you never know.” December: Everyone’s on Christmas vacation. I don’t want to know all these terms and symptoms, and yet, here I am. I’ve never been diagnosed with any of these diseases, but sometimes I live like I’m preparing to die. Can you relate? Let Brandi know in the comments below.

    Community Voices

    New insurance meant new doctors for me. I head to my new PC with my file in hand, my list of notes and concerns because I stumble on words when I’m pain. He greats me with ease and attentiveness, and doesn’t treat me like it’s in my head. We start a plan of attack for answers. Blood work, x-rays and referrals.
    Blood work comes back almost normal with some vitamin deficiencies even though I take supplements. There’s also that unexpected positive ANA test. So off to rheumatology for more answers. Next the appointment for the cervical abnormalities. Having a history of cancer cells, #LEEPprocedure , irregular bleeding and much more, I struggle with trying to keep some health issues separate, but some overlap with symptoms. Chronic pain and bleeding both hurt and causing me inflammation. At the same time. Along with fatigue and migraines.
    This #journey is just starting again. Hoping for relief, answers and understanding.

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