According to Bob Dylan, “There is nothing so stable as change.”
I have to agree. In my world of dealing with cancer, I am always pleasantly surprised when scans come back as stable. And a little anxious when something changes.
The reality of living with metastatic breast cancer is there will always be change.
2025 started with the opportunity to face change once again. In November, my regular scans showed no progression on the CT scan but the bone scan showed progression. Trying to get more definitive answers, my oncologist scheduled a PET scan.
December seemed to drag on far too long – between the wait to schedule the PET scan, and then waiting for the results, all while my oncologist was on the verge of retirement.
Then January came along with the opportunity to embrace change, again.
I met my new-to-me oncologist on January 3rd. I liked him from the moment he walked in the door. He had taken the time to be familiar with my history. Whether he discussed it with my previous oncologist (now retired from seeing Cancer patients) or read my very long file, he impressed me. And it takes a lot for a doctor to impress me.
After reviewing the results of the PET scan he suggested we do another test. Specifically a blood test to ascertain if there are mutations in the cancer cells. He explained that although I had previously had this type of blood test, at the time it was performed, my cancer was stable. He proposed now that the cancer was active again, as shown by the PET scan, the results may detect mutations not present when the cancer was not active and hoped it would open up other treatment opportunities.
To my prayer warriors who prayed I would be a mutant (IYKYK) – THANKS FOR ALWAYS BEING THERE FOR ME
The results are in. The oncologist was almost giddy (if an oncologist can be giddy) when he walked into the room and showed me there were 2 mutations. He told me he would have been happy with one, and that hardly anyone has TWO (even if it isn’t true, I love thinking I’m always beating this game).
The new doctor is learning he has a patient with a sense of humor. At our first meeting, he said, “You have been seeing Dr K for more than 20 years, and I’m coming in in the middle.” I immediately told him “I sure hope so.!” At this appointment, I enlightened him that I was a cancer unicorn and he graciously laughed. Living with metastatic breast cancer for 14 plus years, and now, not just one mutation, but two. I’m rocking this cancer unicorn thing!
I am feeling extremely optimistic about these new changes. First, finding a doctor who could have just come into the room and asked me to tell him my story without doing his research first, but didn’t. Second, that the doctor requested a mulligan on the blood test, hoping it would give us more information. Third, the results of the test have given us options in treating this pesky cancer.
New Year, New Oncologist, New Mutation, New Medication, ReNewed Hope
Once the insurance is sorted out, I will start my next line of treatment (is it number 8 or number 9? I really should look that up).
I’m forever grateful that organizations like Metavivor support breast cancer research. The drug I will be taking was approved by the FDA in January 2023 to treat ESR1 mutations (if you’d like to learn more about this mutation you can click here). Once again I am taking a medication that wasn’t available when I was first diagnosed in 2010. Without continued research, I would be left with fewer options and less hope.
You are an absolute phenomenal unicorn and one of the bravest and strongest woman I have ever met!
Praying your new treatment is a success! Thanks for your update.
Hi Kim,
Just read your latest post. Happy to hear that you like your new oncologist. Your attitude is great, and I hope you keep winning your fight against metastatic cancer – you are a real warrior. Keep on fighting the good fight.
Best to you,
Mali