Photo Credits to: Jaimi Lynn Photography
We became the family that illustrated every other family’s nightmare…
Yet, in the almost five-year journey, underlined with horror, we quickly emerged stronger together, exemplifying the significance of true grit, the importance of the precious present and unmeasured love. We still found a way to have utmost positivity, although living daily with an evolving pendulum of highs and lows and underlying anguish of the dark reality of Stage IV Breast Cancer (Metastatic Breast Cancer). A poignant phrase that remains true, “When your loved one is diagnosed with cancer, you all carry the diagnosis as well.”
In July 2013, my little sister, Kristin Sanborn Todd, at 32 years young and 34 weeks pregnant, was ultimately the innocent woman faced with the grim reality of her narrowed future. Her once “normal” life as a healthy, avid exerciser, devoted wife and family member, and dedicated nurse practitioner, while awaiting the arrival of their first child, was now turned upside down, and she was on the path to navigating her survival.
Photo Credits to: Jaimi Lynn Photography
New Mom Dreams Shattered
Kristin reported to her physician-on-call a lump in her breast during her third trimester. She was told it was likely changes due to her pregnancy and she could wait until their baby was born. Feeling unsettled, she went with her gut and got a second opinion. Kristin was sent for an ultrasound and a biopsy but was still told it was most likely nothing to worry about. Upon return from their “Babymoon,” Kristin and Brian received the dreaded news: Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (ER/PR+ and HER2-) Breast Cancer. Later, through extensive genetic tests, a CHEK2 gene mutation was found that increases the risk of breast cancer, similar to the BRCA gene mutation.
At 36 weeks pregnant, she endured a lumpectomy and lymph node dissection surgery, then later was readmitted for a kidney stone! A week following, Kristin gave birth to their healthy baby boy, Logan Kristopher. Our hope and prayers from that day forward were that the cancer was contained in her breast, she could move on through her treatment, ring the bell into remission, and enjoy raising their son.
When Logan was just three days old, Kristin had a port placed for her chemotherapy and found out more devastating news: liver and bone metastases. The cancer stage jumped from a lower stage to stage IV. My mom called my husband, Mike, and all I could hear on the other end was screaming and crying. He looked in a panic, holding back tears. I grabbed the phone and begged her to tell me what was going on. “Teri, your sister has tumors in six to seven locations throughout her bones, and they stopped counting tumors at 15 in her liver! It’s saturated with cancer! It has spread!” I fell to my knees and sobbed. Kristin joined on the phone and was silent and in shock. She repeated, “I can’t believe this, sister. I can’t believe this. It will be okay, though. I can do this. I have a lot to fight for. I love you.” This moment is engraved in my memory as if this initial shock was just yesterday.
Instead of enjoying the first week of motherhood, Kristin was coming to the realization she was not going to ever be “pink proud” and achieve remission. She would be fighting breast cancer for the duration of her life. The cancer had spread outside of her breast, it was in two other organs – she was up against Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer.
True Grit
Kristin’s prognosis was far from good, but she found a way to still be Kristin. Getting knocked down many times, she would muddle in the darkness for a short while, reset and then bounce right back, pressing onward.
In almost a five-year time span, Kristin had more than 24 scans (MRIs, CTs, etc.). She participated in regular blood-work, endured a liver biopsy, had her ovaries removed (pushing her into menopause), and handled a large variety of side effects and body changes. The emotional side and anxiety associated with these experiences were another entire life change; adversity was knocking, but she never let any test or medical change ruin her positive spirit.
The reality of Metastatic Breast Cancer meant Kristin was always going to be in a form of treatment. There is no “remission,” so to speak. There were three times when she proved NED (no evidence of disease). However, during those short spells, she still was in some form of medical intervention. Her life, depending on the results of her multiple scans, would bounce from treatment to treatment. She was on multiple different intravenous and oral chemotherapies, radiation treatments, hormone suppressants and more. The goal was always to carry and survive a regimen as long as she could, in the hope that the “next best thing” or “miracle” was around the corner.
Photo Credits to: Jaimi Lynn Photography
Unmeasured Love
Our family dynamics were altered. Louise Sanborn, our mother, retired early and moved out to California, where Kristin and her husband, Brian, were living, to be a much-needed support. Our father Dr. Alden Sanborn’s role was now heightened. Not only was he Daddy, but he also became the bearer of all good and bad news. Every scan and test came across his desk first. And at his daughter’s request, she wanted to hear it straight from him.
My life seemed to be put on hold (in my mind) as everything I did revolved around trying to help serve Kristin and her healing journey. We never accepted the statistics. We always had hope. Contrary, it is the most hopeless feeling to not be able to “fix” your little sister. I recall a friend asking once, “How are you doing with all this, Teri?” My response was, “I feel like life right now is a movie, and I’m watching all the players. I’m on the outside, just viewing. There’s lots of static.” Her husband and many family and friends rose up to do whatever it took to support her on her journey. According to her oncologist, the vast amount of love and support she received made a huge difference in her longevity, along with how active with exercise she stayed throughout her journey.
The Precious Present
Kristin was determined to enjoy her life, continue caring for her patients, and never quit. She rarely asked for help and devoted being present daily with anyone she spent time with, especially Logan. Her exhaustion was amplified, but at the end of the day, she still committed to reading Logan his three books at night, snuggling and cuddling while easing him into dreamland, never missing a beat. Kristin saw the sunshine brighter, was energized to go to work, still empathized with mundane issues others had, and was non-stop planning vacations from west to east and back again.
Everyone else’s well-being was of her concern, and she still sat down to hand-write thank you notes and birthday cards weekly – she continued to connect and inspire. There were multiple times Kristin was asked to speak and encourage other young women with the same gloomy diagnosis. She motivated many across the globe who were not living with Metastatic Breast Cancer to not give up a fight for anything. While focusing on the present, she kept a daily gratitude journal on her phone because, according to Kristin, “No matter what, there is always something today to be grateful for.”
The Journey Is Ours
The last week of her life, I asked her, “If you had one word, what would that be?” She looked down, there was a long pause. Finally, looking up, she quivered, “The Journey Is Ours.” It wasn’t one word. It was a phrase that, to her, was one word. She reminded me how she couldn’t have thrived as long as she did without the love, not only that as a sister I gave her, but that which hundreds of “Team Kristin” supporters gave her along the way. She continued, “Small and big ways, I couldn’t have done this without my team.” One of her final social media posts was this quote: “I want to inspire people. I want someone to look at me and say, ‘Because of you I didn’t give up.’”
Sadly, but not without a strong fight, Kristin passed away on April 14, 2018, here in her hometown of Orlando. Her journey with Stage IV Breast Cancer was 4 years and 9 months, just a few months shy of her short-term goal to witness Logan turning five.
She still ignited the room with her smile, determination, and presence during that last week at home. I’ve learned through Kristin how to never give up on your goals, no matter how small or big they are, and to be present; and that I was, until her last precious breath. I am forever grateful for God’s gift of sisterhood that can never be replaced.
A special thank you to our family, friends, friends of friends near and far, and to First Presbyterian Church of Orlando, who have been amazing support through our family’s breast cancer journey. In the Nonahood, thank you Moss Park Elementary, Spring of Life ELC, Nona Soccer Academy and our numerous Nona neighbors … The Journey Is Ours.
Metastatic Breast Cancer
There are five stages in labeling breast cancer: Stages 0-IV. Metastatic Breast Cancer, or advanced breast cancer, is stage IV Breast Cancer where the disease has spread to distant sites beyond the axillary lymph nodes. There is no cure. The main goals of treatment with this disease are to suppress and control the spread of the cancer for as long as possible, giving the patient the highest quality of life possible.
METAvivor Breast Cancer Research and Support
According to METAvivor Breast Cancer Research and Support, 6 to 10 percent of the 200,000 Americans diagnosed with breast cancer each year are Stage IV, or metastatic. Another 30% progress from stages 0, 1, 2 and 3 to develop stage 4 – sometimes immediately, and other times years down the road. The average lifespan of a Stage IV patient is 24 months.
Scientists know that research specifically focused on Metastasis is crucial in order to significantly reduce the breast cancer mortality rate. The biggest obstacle is the lack of funding: Only an estimated 2-5% of the funds raised for breast cancer research is spent on studying this stage of the disease. Just wearing and buying “pink” does not reduce deaths from breast cancer.
Kristin was passionate and hopeful about what METAvivor was doing – research for where metastatic breast cancer could be considered a chronic disease and not terminal.
One hundred percent of donations to METAvivor goes toward research for Stage IV breast cancer, which ultimately is terminal. METAvivor has awarded $4.2 million in research grants to-date!
METAvivor’s research program is a competitive peer review process. Scientists and advocates score the applications, and the very best are funded. All research has the potential to benefit those currently living with metastatic breast cancer. METAvivor offers two awards: The Research Award of $200,000 is given to career metastasis researchers over a two-year period. The Early Career Award of $50,000 is given over a one-year period. The Early Career Award is designed to encourage young researchers to enter or continue in the field of metastasis research and to explore “out-of-the-box” ideas for treating metastasis.
Currently, $27,893.12 has been raised in Kristin’s honor and bravery. We are striving to meet our goal of $50,000 for a research grant in her name.
If you are inclined to donate during October’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month, please consider METAvivor – because together, it’s OUR JOURNEY to help find a way to stop the cancer spread.
Please visit http://secure.metavivor.org/researchfundkristintodd to give a tax-deductible donation.
Nona Soccer Academy will be selling shirts for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and profits will go toward this research fund. Please e-mail info@nonasocceracademy.com if you would like to participate. Watch this short video to find out more information. Watch Here
