TLDR: I’ve learned a lot of new breast cancer vocabulary.

I’m going to make a big disclaimer here that information on this blog will be based off my personal experiences; while here and there I might cite some statistics or facts about cancer that I’ve learned through my own research or speaking with doctors, the technical/medical/scientific information I present here should never be seen as a substitute for scholarly and/or peer-reviewed research. If you’re interested in that kind of thing, the U.S. National Institutes of Health’s National Library of Medicine is publicly accessible and amazing, with free full-text articles: PubMed Central® (PMC).

If you’re like, “uh… I just came to read your blog, and I think you’ve been in school too long…” you still might really dig Cancer Research UK. They’ve got a snazzy interface, are really good at putting out infographics, and have a big social media presence.

I tend to stay away from any webpage that has too too much pink on the site. I actually really like the color pink and am not opposed to building awareness in accessible ways. However, when pink shows up on a site excessively, then I think that the page is really pushing the breast cancer brand more than anything else.

Ok, but finally, to the technical stuff about my cancer. A friend wanted to know more about my risk profile. Also, when I was looking for support online and skimming through blogs and forums, I wanted to zone in on women’s experiences who had cancer like mine, so I’ve realized the importance of tagging oneself with the technical details. Below are my responses to some risk factors based on the list here: Cancer Research UK: Definite breast cancer risks :

• Age: Diagnosed at 32 years old (breast cancer is considered rare under 40)
• Family history: No recent family history of breast cancer (maybe a great-grandmother had it, but this is uncertain). There have been a few cases of cancer in the extended family, but with no discernible pattern.
• Breast cancer genes: I met with a genetic counselor and did genetic counseling recently.  I tested negative for the gene mutation in BRCA I and BRCA II. (These are the gene mutations Angelina Jolie made famous and what prompted her pre-emptive surgeries). In other words, the cancer is not genetic, at least not from BRCA I and II. This is good news because for those who do test positive, the risk of ovarian cancer shoots way up, and so for those women, it is recommended to surgically remove the ovaries by age 40.
• Alcohol consumption: On average <1 unit of alcohol (1/2 pint beer, small glass wine) per week
• Height and weight: average
• Diet: Healthy (I like to think) diet w/ample vegetables and leafy greens and moderate fat intake (mmm… potato chips…)

So, in general, my risk profile is low, but what’s important to understand is that even if one has increased risk on one or more factors, it’s not like there is a definitive causal outcome. Like, boom, I made it happen because of who I am or what my lifestyle is. In this situation, it’s really easy to feel blameworthy, and after the fact of diagnosis, every little less-than-perfect behavior feels like it could be judged by others as reckless. I’m saying this, because even though my risk factors were low, I still slip into a wondering state about whether I did something to make this happen. And very quickly, perhaps because the human mind likes to ask “why” and wants a cause, irrational thoughts begin to surface:  Did I eat one too many pieces of burnt toast? Maybe its all the chemically derived lotions I use? Was it living in a smoggy Chinese city for a year? Is it because I obsessively salvage food and possibly ingested some mold? Note that none of these have to do with any of the risk factors really, and despite that, lurking in the shadows is did I do this to myself?

The details of the cancer itself:

• Invasive carcinoma, Stage II (Stages go from I to IV)
• Grade II, moderately differentiated (Grades go from I-III; this is related to the cell division and the implications on how “aggressive” the tumor could be. Also, under a microscope, how easy is it to tell a healthy cell from a cancerous one? So, “moderately” differentiated is in the middle.)
• Palpable tumor, approx 4cm (you can’t really know exact size because mammograms and ultrasounds can only show part of the picture)
• From a clinical exam, no spread to lymph nodes (but since I haven’t had surgery yet, this is what doctors can tell from the poking and prodding)
• Hormone receptors: ER+/PR-/HER- (Why this matters: receptors can act like triggers, so in my case estrogen (ER) can operate almost as a “fuel” for malignant cell division. This information helps to inform long term treatment, such as hormone blockers in the future, post chemo and surgery, to prevent recurrence). I also recall being told that ER+ cancer is one of the most common types and tends to be less aggressive than HER+ cancer.