Just Another Cancer Story by guest @EdenBaylee

Rachel Thompson

Author • Poet • Advocate

JOIN RACHEL'S MAILING LIST

Just Another Cancer Story by guest @EdenBaylee

by 76 Comments

Just Another Cancer Story

vectorstock_210665

I’m honored to have erotica author and damn fine human Eden Baylee here today to share her experience with cancer. Eden lives in Canada and I’m a huge fan of her books Fall Into Winter and Spring Into Summer — she writes literary erotica (aka what 50 Shades aspires to be). Read, follow, worship.

 

I’d like to thank Rachel for asking me to pen a personal guest post. She’s had incredible writers share their experiences, so I am honored to be here amongst them.

The title of my post is not meant to be disrespectful, however, mine is but one of millions of stories about cancer, neither more nor less significant than any other survivor’s story. The only thing that makes it unique is that it happened to me.

I don’t usually share it publicly for a couple of reasons. The word “survivor” carries an undertone of achievement. It’s as if surviving cancer elevates one to a higher status. I’m not comfortable with that, but it’s clearly my issue. Though I would never downplay cancer as a formidable opponent, I survived because I wasn’t ready to die.

Secondly, cancer does not define me even though it stole almost two years of my life over a decade ago. As with most things of the past, I’ve made my peace with it and moved on.

Today, I continue to share my story with those who are going through treatment. I do it because survivors shared their stories with me when I needed it most. Nothing empowered me more than talking to someone who had endured multiple surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, and countless other treatments and then went on to live life—fearlessly.

For this reason, and for all those who continue to fight, here’s my story.

* * * *

The specialist ignored my request to do a core biopsy. Instead, he did a fine needle aspiration to test for malignancy of the lump I’d found on my breast. It was a test I knew carried a high percentage of inaccuracy.

“Look,” he said, annoyed with my questioning him. “I can tell you right now you don’t have cancer. You have no family history. You’re Asian, and you’re too young.”

In no uncertain terms, he let me know he was doing me a favor by performing any test at all. He was the specialist with letters behind his name, and I was just a scared woman attached to the breast he had to examine. Though I considered him a heartless bastard whose practice had long outlasted his compassion, relief washed over me when my results came back negative for malignancy.

Over the next few weeks, my lump continued to grow. I returned to my general practitioner and asked for a referral to a different specialist. I wanted a second opinion.

I knew my body. Something wasn’t right.

This time, a young female doctor was assigned to me. She confirmed that fine needle biopsies carried a high degree of error and recommended removing the lump. Given its aggressive growth, she didn’t want to waste time doing additional tests. I walked out of the office nervous, but relieved I’d made the decision to have surgery. The thought of a scar didn’t appeal to me, but hell, at the rate the lump was growing, I’d have a third boob in a week if I didn’t have it removed.

* * * *

On the day of the surgery, my best friend drove me to the hospital early in the morning. Everything went as scheduled, and after the anesthesia wore off, I was moved to a private waiting room with my girlfriend. We laughed and chatted about where to go for lunch. I was starving!

The nurse who had prepped me for surgery came in with the doctor carrying some pamphlets—post-surgical care instructions, I thought, but no … they contained information about breast cancer—which I had.

The only thing I remembered hearing was the word “cancer,” and then my girlfriend’s quick intake of breath before she started crying.

It was surreal as I watched the doctor mouthing words “Cancer … metastasis … more surgery … oncology …” and other medical terms I’d never heard of at the time.

Finally, at the end of it, the nurse handed me the pamphlets and asked if I had any questions. Sure I did, I had plenty. But my friend was sobbing, and I couldn’t think straight. The questions would have to wait.

Don’t ever underestimate a hungry woman who’s just been told she has cancer, or her best friend who’s quite reserved until she gets behind the wheel. That day, we hit a hundred in a sixty-kilometer zone, barreling down one of the city’s main arteries in search of comfort food.

“I dare a cop to stop me,” my friend yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’m going to tell him you’ve just been diagnosed with cancer, and I don’t give a shit what he says!”

“No kidding,” I said, “as if he can possibly make my day any worse.”

“Yeah, but if I get a ticket, you’re paying for it!” she screamed.

We laughed until we cried.

* * * *

From the day I was misdiagnosed until the end of my treatments, there were countless decisions to make. I can only compare it to climbing an old tree with numerous branches. Reaching the top meant I could grab my health back, but there were limitless, different ways to get there. At times, fear paralyzed me, but in the end, I did what was right for me based on all the options available.

As an active participant in my well-being—knowledge gave me power.

Epilogue

Once my health improved, I wanted to help other and I enrolled into Hamilton first aid training. Later, I reported the original specialist who had misdiagnosed me to the College of Physicians and Surgeons—the regulating body that oversees medicine and protects the public interest.

I had kept detailed journals throughout my experience and transcribed the relevant parts to present to the College. After a couple of months, they returned a decision.

Though the College did not feel the doctor was responsible for the misdiagnosis, they reprimanded him for his lack of due diligence. It was a black mark against him.

That’s all I wanted, to remind him that cancer had a name—and that name belonged to a person—and that person was me.eb

Go to https://bio-sharing.org/ if you want to help someone suffering from an illness or disease, such as cancer or an autoimmune condition.

 

Please connect with Eden below — she’s also on Twitter and her website rocks. Eden does more than any other author I know to support and promote her peers. Please support her and buy her fantastic books! 

AND want to win a free copy of her fabulous new erotica book Spring Into Summer? Simply leave a comment below and you’re automatically entered! Be sure to leave your email so we can contact you.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to my blog and you’ll never miss my weekly posts! Just enter your email address over on the right hand side of this page >>>>. It’s easy, and I won’t share your email address with anyone. Redhead’s honor. 

Need personalized help? Check out my BadRedheadMedia.com services page. 

*New feature: ads! No more than 8-10 per month on each of my blogs. See Advertising  for details!*

Related articles

Comments

  1. Eden, Thank you for sharing your story with us. As a fellow resident of Ontario, I can attest to the need to be an active participant in your own health care and to advocate for your rights if you don’t feel you are getting appropriate care. It makes it hard to be an active participant when someone is sick, but so necessary.

    Reply

    • Hi Christina, I had no idea you were in Ontario too 😉

      It’s funny how tough women can be about negotiations for many things, but when it comes to their own health, I see too many leave it in the hands of doctors. Sometimes, it’s a generational or cultural thing. I know my mother never questions her doctor and accepts everything he tells her.

      Though I have a degree of trust for doctors, I accept nothing blindly. I also know that if I’m aware of the facts, then my doctor has to be much more careful and diligent with me.

      I understand what you mean about being proactive when you are unwell. What helped me was having a friend come to all my sessions and take notes. It’s important for moral support, but also to ensure information is clearly understood.

      Thanks for commenting here, fellow Canuck!
      eden

      Reply

  5. Eden, So happy it all worked out for you in the end. Thanks so much for sharing your story. It might be just another cancer story, but every one is important.

    Reply

    • Hi David, absolutely agree. Each one is unique to the person going through it. It’s important doctors treat their patients as unique and not as a statistic.

      Thanks so much for your comment here,
      eden

      Reply

  6. Love you, woman. So much courage and a heart bigger than anyone I know.
    This hit home. Partly because I had a needle aspiration from a surgeon who treated it like it was nothing when–like you–it was a HUGE something to me. Yes, mine turned out to be a cyst. But.
    But.
    No one should take cancer lightly. It deserves attention and a firm kick in the ass.

    Reply

    • Hi Patti – gorgeous woman 😉

      I feel for you and all women who walk into a doctor’s office with fear and get treated in such a cavalier manner.
      My first specialist did teach me a lesson, even though he was an asshole. He didn’t know my body better than me. Trusting my instincts over believing he was God-like and all-knowing likely saved my life.

      So happy yours turned out benign, hon xox
      eden

      Reply

  9. Eden you are just a force of nature, survivor. Your courage and authenticity amaze me each time. Thank you for letting me, us, readers in and sharing your story. Xo

    Reply

  11. Eden never ceases to amaze me. Inspiring post from one of the loveliest humans I’ve ever met.

    Reply

  12. Eden I still get emotional about this event in your life and I wasn’t even there but am eternally grateful for the outcome. You have touched so many lives since then including mine by sharing your experience with cancer.

    Reply

    • OHMJAM,

      You are a shining example of choices we make when faced with cancer. None of them are ever easy.
      I am eternally grateful for you too.

      xox
      eden

      Reply

  14. Thanks for sharing your story. My mom’s inflammatory breast cancer was also misdiagnosed by an arrogant doctor with no bedside manner. By the time she got to a doctor that said she wasn’t nuts and she should see an oncologist, she was Stage IV. Thank goodness, she also survived, but so many people aren’t so fortunate.
    Still makes my blood boil when I think about it!

    Reply

    • Hi Divorced Kat,

      That makes my blood boil too.
      I am SO SO thankful your Mom survived. Stage IV…WOW, she must be one hell of a woman.

      Hugs to you both,
      eden

      Reply

  17. What sucks the most about the computer is if you’re a hugger, then you can’t hug anyone. I wish I could hug you and tell you personally, thank you for being braces with telling people your experience and providing some inspiration to women who may not be taken seriously or misdiagnosed. My mom has survived two scares with this.

    Thanks for showing me more Eden

    Reply

    • Lance, you’re ace, no wait, you’re SUPER ACE. It was a scary time, and mainly because I didn’t know what to expect. What I hoped for, at the very least, was compassion from the medical profession. That doesn’t always happen, and it’s unfortunate, but it should not make women complacent.

      Cliché as it sounds, I always start off by saying “knowledge is power.” And it is.

      Once you know what you have, survival rates, all the ugly details, then it’s like football – you can tackle the problem with a game plan (I prefer football to baseball analogies, hehe).

      Some humor along the way never hurts, right 😉

      Thanks for coming by, hon, YAY for your MOM!

      xox
      eden

      Reply

  19. What an intake of breath I took as I saw two of my favorite writers, Eden & Rachel, sharing a blog. And then I read this personal note feeling a bit like I’d broached the privacy of Eden’s diary (it was lying open on the table I swear!). And then I cried. What a beautiful, heart-rendering story. Just as Eden said, not necessarily to elevate – but certainly not to give in. Thank you both for this powerful Tuesday read.

    Reply

    • Thank you, sweet Christopher. I’m honored to have Eden feel comfortable enough to share here on my blog. If even one person will be helped, it’s a win for everyone.

      xx

      Reply

    • Hello Christopher 😉
      So lovely of you to drop by and comment on Rachel’s wonderful site.
      And you’re correct, the diary was open, so you had every right to read it! Thanks, sweet man, for your touching words.

      eden

      Reply

  20. Very deep and courageous story Eden. Sometimes Maria feel her breast a little hard and I always need to forcer her to visit the doctor, at least everything comes clear. She has an aunt who survive breast cancer, her aunt has almost 80 years now, more than 30 year after the diagnosis.

    Reply

    • Efrain, hi honey,

      I’m so happy to see you here. You are a very good man for encouraging Maria to see a doctor. A woman’s breasts do feel differently throughout the month. Sometimes it’s just lumpy, but if she finds something peculiar, then it’s important to get it checked out.

      My little lump started off feeling like a small rock, just a hard little pebble. It grew rapidly to the size of a walnut, then even larger by the time I had surgery. It’s not to create fear for you or Maria, but what I find very helpful is doing a breast self-examination monthly. That way, she will know the feel of her breasts and be more likely to notice something out of the ordinary.

      In her favor — survival of breast cancer in the family – that’s a very good thing. Encourage her to do the self-exams. I find it very helpful for me, and it only takes seconds each month.

      Maria is a lucky woman to have you, xo
      eden

      Reply

  22. I love you. You are a huge inspiration to me. I saw my mother’s experience with inflammatory breast cancer and had a lump removed myself. There is no easy way through any of it, but you are so right when you say you know your body better than anyone else–and you have to be involved in your own health care decisions.

    You’re amazing. Thanks for sharing such a personal story. I know it’s difficult.

    xoxoxoxoxoox

    Reply

    • Hi Netta!

      Thanks so much for your comment here, lovely lady.

      I agree it’s never easy to find a lump and then face the possibility of it being cancerous. Many women I’ve talked to relay the fear of the “unknown” – that moment between having the test and waiting for the results to come back. Once they know, then it’s “ACTION TIME, ” regardless of the outcome.

      I agree women are becoming more involved with their health decisions, and it’s a good thing. Although there is a recommended treatment plan based on statistics like: type of cancer, age and health of the patient, stage of the cancer, ultimately, the course of action is up to the woman. They can do all of it, or do none of it. I’ve seen some women refuse chemo, radiation, and all adjuvant treatment, and they are alive and well today.

      For me, it was important I chose the best treatment for myself based on information available at the time, AND to believe in the treatment. Ultimately, I found some power in feeling I had a choice.

      Thanks hon, always, for your support,
      eden

      Reply

  25. Eden, I am glad you didn’t take “no” for an answer and that you were proactive with your health needs. I am even more glad that you had a good friend with you when you learned your diagnosis. As women we are often ignored by male doctors who seem to think that they know more about our bodies than we do. It is my hope that this will change sooner rather than later. In the meantime I am glad you are with us writing saucy stories that keep us, um…tingling!

    Hugs,

    Ardee-ann

    Reply

    • Ardee, I didn’t recognize you!

      Thanks hon, for the comment. Having a friend always makes things better, in good times but especially in bad.

      So great to see you again, xox
      eden

      Reply

  26. You continue to amaze me with your strength and outlook on life. You are fearless and live your life on your terms. We can all learn from you. Beautifully written!

    Reply

  27. Great piece, Eden. Thanks for sharing your story. My aunts both had breast cancer and one aunt did the genetic testing which showed that I was not at risk (my aunts on my dad’s side). Glad you got that second opinion. You just never know.

    Reply

    • Hi Cindy, thanks so much for connecting here and commenting.

      I did not have a history of cancer, but so much more plays into it than history. It goes back to the old “nature vs nurture” arguments. You’re right, you never know, and it’s worth getting checked out.

      eden

      Reply

  28. Eden:

    Thank you so much for sharing your story. I was riveted from the moment you were first misdiagnosed, and incensed at the irresponsible and un-empathetic doctor (I’m so glad you reported him)… and I laughed with you and your best friend in the car… Aren’t we so lucky to have our girlfriends who can just *be* with us through it all, and somehow create lasting sweet memories? I am also very thankful that you share your story with those struggling. It’s vital. And the way you tell it is refreshing and so NOT cancer-like. xo

    Reply

    • Lisa, so great to read your comment and be able to write more than just 140 characters!

      I agree girlfriends are wonderful, and she is my oldest friend from the time we were six. We’ve been together longer than most married couples, and we still love one another, ha! That day, it was a true “Thelma and Louise, we don’t give a f*ck moment.” If there was a cliff, she’d have driven off it!

      Sharing this story does bring back some difficult memories, but it’s connected me to some wonderful people like you, so for that I’m grateful.

      For a while, there was a tiny part of me that wondered if I should have gone through the intense treatments I had. It was based on research I had available at the time, but also driven by fear of cancer returning. What I did not want was a recurrence years later and to regret that I didn’t do everything to eradicate it when I had the chance. That was my choice to make and no one else’s. Perhaps the time I lost is “found” time now.

      I read your story about having a double mastectomy after finding you carried the cancer gene. It made me really ponder the difficult decisions some women have to make. Each of us is unique based on genetic make-up, but we also have our own personal histories, and different tolerance levels for fear and pain. My heart broke to read of your sister’s battle, and how she lost it after so many years.

      For what it’s worth Lisa, I think what you did was incredibly brave. Breasts are integral to a woman’s identity but they are not vital organs. We don’t need them to sustain life. You made a very hard decision, and for that, I truly, truly admire you. You made the right choice for YOU, and that’s all that matters.

      xoxo
      eden

      ps. So happy Sharky introduced us. I knew there was a reason I liked him!

      Reply

  30. Thank you for sharing your cancer story.

    Doctors can be idiots. I cannot believe your doctor and his misdiagnosis. When I was told I had kidney cancer I was in the hospital for a different reason and a strange doctor I had never seen before came in and told me I had kidney cancer. He then said I will come back tomorrow to answer questions and he walked back out the door. I was left sitting there all alone and scared. Oh how I wish I had had a friend there with me so we could have has someone to cry with.

    I am very happy you are doing well now.

    Peggy

    Reply

    • Thanks so much Peggy for your comment,

      First off, I sure hope you are doing well now? Kidney cancer sounds so scary.

      That doctor should be slapped upside the head and then kicked in the nuts…excuse my language, but perhaps that’s what he needed to wake up. I can understand being ‘hardened’ because you work in the field and see sick people everyday, but that behaviour is deplorable and inexcusable. Doctors need to remember they treat HUMAN BEINGS – who are NOT just bodies filled with organs.

      Honestly, some of them need to take extra courses in compassion.

      Thanks so much for commenting here, and I do hope you are healed now,
      eden

      Reply

  35. Eden. You really are an amazing person and a beautiful woman. I’m sure when the cancer was removed it left veins of gold in you and you share your heart and support with everyone you meet. You’ve made a difference in my life, love.

    Reply

    • Hi sweetheart,
      I love the picture you paint. Now I’m staring at my breast looking for gold! Thanks for being such a beautiful man, and a bright light in my life — no matter where you are.

      xox
      eden

      Reply

  37. Eden, thank you very much for sharing your story. You are an amazing, courageous woman.

    I found myself wondering what you’d be writing about here. Cancer in all its forms is a ruthless beast, and there are survivors, and those who don’t make it. My mom passed away earlier this month after a cancer diagnosis.

    It’s good that this damned disease doesn’t always win.

    Reply

    • Oh William 🙁 My sincere condolences on the passing of your Mom.

      I’m so sad to hear that.

      It is never easy to cope with such a devastating disease—as the person with cancer or as family and friends who must act as a support network.

      Sending BIG BIG BIG HUGS to YOU.

      xox
      eden

      Reply

  45. I got a callous on my index finger scrolling thru so many comments before I could leave mine – clearly you have moved people. This is a terrific piece. It was touching. It quite simply and poignantly demonstrated your resilience, a quality I’ve admired in women since my mother raised four brats on her own after my dad died. I like your style. I’ve never read literary erotica; I just look at the pictures (that joke was for Rachel #Mancode), but I’ll definitely order one of your books. I wish you nothing short of a long wonderful life.
    Joe

    Reply

  46. Eden. Thanks for sharing. Going through cancer myself and get so angry with some of the medical staff and their attitude. Then you meet with a cancer charity nurse who recommends something, you take it and the horrible oral thrush that has been making you gag and choke and vomit for weeks starts to clear in hours…… Go figure and it was pineapple btw which allowed me to start eating again and stopped the weightloss in its track’s

    Reply

Trackbacks

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *