Memoir of Brynne Tillman ? Six Months to Live

The last few days had felt like weeks, and although there were moments of being hopeful, when my husband said the doctor herself was on the line, my heart sunk, a pit immediately appeared in my stomach and my body began to go numb. I knew.

I walked over to the phone in the kitchen, put the cool receiver up to my ear and realized I was about to hear my destiny. “Hello Dr. Boraas, thank you for calling me on a Tuesday night”, feeling the pit grow. “Brynne”, she said, “the biopsy came back and we did find cancer cells. We don’t know much more yet, but you do have to come back in the morning for further tests. We will schedule you for a sentinel node biopsy and ....”  It all became muffled.  My body froze, my breath was shallow and my heart was pounding.   

I looked up at my husband and 16 year old daughter, Hannah, who were intently looking at me, and I glanced over at my 4 year old twin boys who were watching “Sharkboy and Lavagirl on the big screen. A feeling, a bleak sadness washed over my whole body; shocked on one hand helpless on the other.

Just then, tears began to seep quickly from the centers of my eyes, finding random paths landing on my lip on the right side and soaking the curl of my hair that sat just under my chin on the left. I realized I had been on the phone for a while now, but wasn’t clear on the next steps.

I interrupted Dr. Boraas, apologized, and asked her to start over. I called my daughter and husband over, grabbed a ball point pen and a small moleskine notebook from the tchotchke drawer and prepared to take notes - lots of notes. I began to write what my tomorrows were going to look like, the phone numbers to call, the tests to schedule and procedures I had to begin planning.

Three weeks later Dr. Boraas called again with the news that it was more advanced than expected. I had 33 lymph nodes involved and some spots on my liver; and because my enzymes were so high they were bringing me back in first thing in the morning for even more tests.

I arrived the next morning and sat alone in the waiting area, hungry from my 12 hour fast and uncomfortable in my awkward hospital smock.  A young doctor walked in. And although he had a kind smile, I quickly changed my assessment of him when he began to talk about my “condition”, prior to any new tests. “I think I should let you know best and worst case scenarios”. So of course, I leaned in, and although I am pretty sure the “talk” went on for 10 minutes or so, I only heard one thing - “You have six months to live”.

What? I asked. “Yes, if the spots in your liver are a metastasis, six months is what you can expect. Do you have your affairs in order?” he asked with that same smile which no longer seemed kind but sinister.

I don’t remember much after that conversation, but I did stop at Best Buy and bought a small video recorder. I sent my family out to dinner and recorded all the things I wanted my babies to know, because I was very sure they were not going to remember me and I would not have the chance to raise them the way I planned.

I sat at edge of my bed with the camera on a tripod staring at a little green light just taunting me to share. I talked about values, the purpose of life, the importance of kindness and the power of personal choices. And although I won’t be there to see them graduate 5th grade, begin middle school, play in soccer games and watch the jump shot that wins the basketball game - I would be in their hearts.

The recording went on for over an hour. I was afraid to stop it, what if I missed something they needed to learn from me, their mom. What if I wasn’t leaving them enough. But, when I shut it off, I felt as if I did the best I could do, tucked the cassette away and cried until the garage door opened and my babies ran up stairs to show me the balloon animals they got at Applebee's.

11 surgical procedures later I met Dr. Domchek, my oncologist who saved my life, emotionally and physically. “This is very difficult, and I know all you have been through over the last 6 months - and I know what the next 9 are going to look like for you. There is 15 weeks of Chemo and another 6 of radiation, but we’ve got this.” And I believed her.  

I took that very first phone call on Dec. 5th 2006; the day I was diagnosed. But it was the meeting with Dr. Domchek months later that significantly impacted my mindset and my future both personally and professionally.

It was when I decided to NOT give-up. I wasn’t going to listen to the doctor who got some sadistic pleasure out of scaring me. I was going to figure it out, just me and Dr. Domchek and God! I was put in a study or two or three, I prayed a lot, I had others pray for me, with me and over me and I appreciated every single one of them. I joined The Young Survival Coalition, a group for women diagnosed with breast cancer under the age of 40 and surrounded myself with powerful loving women that I will cherish forever.

10 years later I deeply appreciate the milestones. I made it to my boy’s b'nai mitzvah and saw them play in their games. And, I wholeheartedly believe I will make it to the girlfriends, the heartbreaks, the driver's licenses, the fender benders, the graduations, first jobs, marriages, kids (in that order please!) and every other life event. But if by chance I am not, my boys, at 14, are formed and I see who they will be now; very honest, caring, thoughtful, kind, hardworking, helpful young men, just as I hoped. I am grateful and humbled and full of love and joy.

My liver spots are still there, they have not changed and my liver enzymes are still extremely high but, I am still alive, 10 years later.

This experience changed me. It could have made me cynical and angry but I decided not to let it. In fact, the realization that in life there are some things I can control and there are those I can’t, allowed me to focus my energy on only what I can affect. Life is made of decisions and the quality of it is based on how you choose to make them.

For those of you who are faced with a challenge like mine or an obstacle that seems insurmountable, here is the mindset that got me through...

1. Focus on only the things that you can affect.
2. Don’t waste energy worrying about worst case scenarios, what if’s or what “might” happen.
3. Have faith and accept the things you can not control.
4. Start exactly where you are today and make some decisions, choices that move you toward your dreams and goals.
5. Surround yourself with good people that are positive and supportive.
6. Decide to be the very best person you can be.
7. Be thankful.

December 5th, 2016 is 10 years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer and I am still here, having the time of my life.