Special Edition, 2019, Laguna Beach, CA
"Love of Life" Luncheon
"Love of Life" Luncheon
This special edition will feature all the women that came, their personal cancer/molar story along with beautifully captured photos throughout the day event taken by Bluejay Photography. Please check in often as we will add on a new survivor attendee each week! Click here for a special story on this event!
Meet Cindy, California, diagnosed 2014
"My story timeline goes through my entire pregnancy, extending into 4 months postpartum, only we didn't know it. Being my fourth, I felt relatively well considering my other pregnancies consisted of issues from placenta previa, gestational diabetes, low-lying and retained placenta, limited activities/standing to complete bed rest. In this pregnancy I was able to continue thru with prenatal yoga and regular activities, that is until the contractions began. These were not Braxton Hicks and it was way too early. Prior to this, I had what I thought was a yeast infection but the test came back negative. My doctor said it was "increase of hormones" and recommended hydrocortisone cream in which I added in regular vinegar baths. Upon every exam, ultrasound, and pap, nothing was found as to the contractions. My doctor said it was because I was "an older mom" this time around. I didn't fully buy this since my last pregnancy was only 4 years earlier, but I was now closer to 40, so I slightly shrugged it off. As I got deeper into my pregnancy, the contractions grew stronger increasing my concern. Was I going to loose this baby? What was possibly wrong? Would I even make it to the hospital in time? We lived about 30 minutes from the closest hospital with barren, rural land in-between the two cities. My doctor eventually told me to cut out exercise and minimize regular activities. I was bummed because I wanted at least one pregnancy to be 'normal' thru full term.
My last prenatal exam was the morning of September 30, 2013. He did another exam, etc and he still had no explanation for to the continued increased contractions. I addressed my high concerns again of possibly not making it to the hospital. I was now at 39 weeks and he said the baby was full-term so he slightly stretched my cervix. We drove back home and by afternoon the contractions were back. Was I in real labor? Were these the 'false' ones I'd been experiencing since around 25 weeks? Before long, I realized I was in labor. The timing of the contractions were suddenly patterned. I knew we would not make the hospital, and I feared the worst. We made it just 3 miles from our house and my water fiercely busted in the vehicle. By this time, we were already on the phone with my doctor whom said we'd make it and he'd meet us at the hospital, waiting. No, we clearly were not going to make it! I told my husband to hang up and call 911 but we both knew it was a long shot because they'd either come from our own town, opposite direction, or the town the hospital was in. We were in a bind. The firetruck met us half-way in the dry lakes. There were three techs, all in training, and honestly not much help. I was definitely on my own now. In the back of the ambulance, I used my yoga breathing to hold off the contractions to push for delivery. It took a lot of mindset and it got to the point I couldn't hold off any longer. I asked if I could push and he said I could since we were already less than a block away. He then asked if I'd had prior placenta problems. I told him I did so he said he'd leave it for my doctor.
In the hospital, my doctor delivered the placenta, held it up and slowly spun it around and back around the opposite way. It was beautiful in color and he said it was all in tact. Settled in my room later, I became very weak, nearly passing out when I sat up to go to the bathroom. My nurse said it was normal after birth and to put my head between my legs for a few minutes. As she assisted me to the bathroom, I nearly fainted again. I heard her yell for help and shout off some other medical terms, trying to hold me up and pull the cord for help. I had 2 or 3 nurses holding me up then carefully putting me on the toilet as they poured orange juice into my mouth. Something was wrong, I knew it. Later that night, my newborn daughter was rushed off to the NICU for an "unknown infection" where she stayed for 3 days pumped with antibiotics and tests. I fought around the clock to pump, measure, bottle, visit and feed her. I had never bottle fed any of my kids so this was a great disappointment.
When it was time to discharge me, my doctor asked if I felt good enough to go home and without my baby. I still felt very ill and extremely light-headed so I asked if I could stay until my baby was discharged, and we could go home together. He said, "Yes, I can do that for you." He mentioned that he knew I lost a lot of blood, though he wasn't sure how much since the tech didn't save any of the birth; a blood transfusion was not wanted to be given so the best for me would be rest, diet and iron pills. I found out that all the labor and delivery nurses thrived on my delivery story. My baby and I made the front page and because she was born near the signal where Wal-Mart is so they called her 'Wally". They continued on for 2 days cracking jokes and brought me the newsstand flyer and a newspaper.
Once we were home, I continued to feel unwell and my color remained off, almost a pale yellow. At my fourth postpartum week I had a appointment where a pap was done and I was still bleeding significantly. He said this was fine and all looked good in the exam. I still felt something was not right. I continued to bleed for another 4 weeks, a total of 8 weeks postpartum. I felt a bit better and was happy to see the bleeding stopped gradually as it was supposed to but concerned as to the time length. I kept hearing my doctor's voice that I was an older mom...it was hormones.....Two weeks I went without any bleeding. I woke up in the night to use the bathroom when I saw a dark stain underneath me. What? I felt it. It was wet. I went to the bathroom, turned on the light; it was red, it was blood. It was on me, too. Something was wrong. I don't bleed like that. I was exclusively breastfeeding so a menstrual cycle was unlikely (but I was an 'older mom', I heard). I wasn't going to wake my husband because he'd just fallen asleep after working a late night shift. I figured if I had bleeding in the morning or in the day, I would call my doctor. Nothing happened until a day or or two later.
The date was January 31st, mid-afternoon. Going to the bathroom, I passed a large, flat grape-like clot. It was compacted. I knew then something was terribly wrong. I found my husband in the kitchen, told him as I began to cry. He said I needed to call the doctor now. My doctor was not available. I told the receptionist that I am bleeding 4 months after birth and I need to talk to him; please page him asap. He called me back at 4 pm and said to come in now. We went in and on the vaginal ultrasound was a large grapevine image on the right side of my uterus. He said it was likely 'retained placenta' and I'd need a D&C. I knew this was not the case because I saw the placenta and he assured it was "healthy and in-tact". He suggested we go down to this one hospital (over an hour away from town alone) where there are specialists and great doctors. I asked why we can't go next door, it's closer. He said it would break us since we were in-between insurances. I said, "Can we go next week?" His face grew hard. "How about tomorrow morning?" What was he saying? "Go home. Get a good night sleep and tackle this first thing in the morning. Go at 8 am and tell them I sent you."
We did just that. I pumped enough breast-milk for a 24 hour period and brought my little bottle and nipple from the hospital. Upon getting there, we went in the ER department. The first thing they did was give me a pregnancy test. Then urine test. Several nurses said, "You're pregnant." A few hours later they said, "You're miscarrying." They were all unsure what to do with me. I pressed that I was NOT pregnant, NOT miscarrying, I had just given birth 4 months ago. ER passed me to another floor and this continued on for hours; floor to floor, unsure of me, my sanity. I remember them even giving me a cognitive test at some point. I stuck to my story and refused to go home nearly 2 hours away to bleed to death. Another vaginal ultrasound was done and that grape-vine image could not be seen. The doctor tried and tried; she even had me get in different positions but it was not there. I reassured her firmly that there was something definitely there because my ob/gyn and I saw it just last night. She then did an exam and said my cervix felt like I was about 5-6 months pregnant. She was dazed.
I eventually ended up on the 4th floor, Labor and Delivery since it was the likeliest place to put me. We ended up in a little exam room where the same dr kept saying "it was a heavy period". I knew this was not true. I knew my body. By this time it was evening and I needed to use the bathroom. Walking down the hall, I found it at the end. Then it happened. Blood began to run down my legs. I didn't even get my shorts down and then it poured down. I then felt either clotting or large clots and wasn't sure what to do. Would this ever stop? Do I try to remove this now huge clot of clots? I needed to get help! I needed a nurse! Then I remembered the new moms and expectant moms in the halls waiting for a room. I can't have them see this! What do I do? I was afraid to move but the blood was not stopping and the puddle got larger. I cracked the door and saw one. I shut it and softly cried, "Lord! Why?!" but in my head I screamed. I peeked out the door again and saw a nurse. I got her attention as she passed by, and when she entered the bathroom, her face dropped. She ran to get help and 2 other nurses came in as they tried to cover me up with towels/blankets to pass through the hall. We can't have these new mothers see this!
Back in my room, I was near passing out as soon as they laid me down. Barely able to talk from weakness, I clinched my jaw and demanded my husband to get someone NOW because I was going to go; honestly, I didn't know if I'd wake up. They quickly lowered the bed as far as it could go to elevate my feet higher than my head. After the doctors' scrambling in and out (we could hear them in the halls and on PD), the head dr came back in and sat me back to horizontal. It was then that we truly saw the situation at its worst. Blood began to pour out again. She initially had pads and realized this wasn't enough for the blood loss, asking for a bucket. As the terror and fear set on her face, my husband asked if she'd ever seen this much blood before. By this time we were on bucket two with very large clots; soccer ball size. She avoided the answer and said again, "It's a heavy period." I looked at my husband and I saw his fear for the first time. She said I would still be
discharged and I again refused to go home; this was not a period. It was then my husband was hesitant for me to go home.
Suddenly, another dr poked his head in, saw the hemorrhage, asked if they'd done a b-hcg. They said they hadn't and he demanded to do one STAT. Within the hour, the hemorrhage stopped and we had 3 doctors at the foot of my bed. They explained I had gestational trophoblastic disease from a twin (complete) molar pregnancy and I had choriocarcinoma and would need chemo. I said, "That sounds like cancer." One doctor said, "Yes, it is, and we need to admit you tonight and to some extensive tests to see if it's metastasized. You will need chemo right away." We then said, "Our baby had a twin? We lost a twin baby?" The middle doctor, the one that'd been talking, sighed and said cautiously, "It all depends on how you view conception. I'd-we'd (the other 2 doctors) would like to say yes you did, what would've been the twin to your daughter; your 4 month old newborn. We suspect the cancer was fully gestated between 17-29 weeks into your pregnancy." (I usually average it out to about 25 weeks). We were there just over 12 hours and we finally got a diagnosis! The date was February 1, 2014. That early morning was the last time I'd ever breastfeed.
How'd we get so lucky to have these three doctors explain this complex situation to us? I asked to breastfeed my baby one last time but I could not. My milk was dry and I was dehydrated. I fought all I could but had to surrender. I said goodbye to her and my husband and that night they found the cancer had gone to my right lung only, thank the Lord. The next day my team decided to insert a picc-line over a port and gave me a blood transfusion. February 3rd, I started my first of four weekly single methotrexate injection shots, the 1st being inpatient. My b-hcg was over 221,000 and climbing, so they switched me over to a grueling cocktail called ema/co. This consists of 5 different chemos: etoposide, methotrexate, act-D or dactinomycin, cyclophosomide and vincristine. The first 3 are given over 24 hour period as inpatient and is 2 weeks worth of chemo, while the last 2 chemos are given as outpatient. I had 8 cycles or rounds of this, totaling 6 1/2 months of solid chemotherapy, 12 total chemo cycles. In-between this I faced consistent nephropathy, painful Neupogen shots, Loveknox shots and bruising, another blood transfusion, fevers, an infection, and chemo side effects. One time there was a scare with my labs that showed possible newly developed leukemia! This not only delayed my chemo yet again, but terrified me and my family! It turned out the lab had some discrepancies. Med students continuously swirling around me as a learning encyclopedia. I had to repeat my story and give answers to the same questions to different faces, some even doctors. I had no privacy, although my nurses always gave me the best front-faced room! I was royalty! It was a shame the hospital food wasn't (which made me sicker and harder to plan for meals to eat or take-in delivery and additional weight loss despite the weekly steroids).
During this time, I frantically searched for any support, info and help all while lying in my hospital bed (in-a-patient usually lasted Monday to Wednesday, Thursday if things went slowly or other issues). It was then that I found only two cases on the internet, one made media the other via Facebook. I had not even a Facebook account, nor any social media account! In order to see the page, I had to create an account and so I did. It turned out that both women did not survive, making my possible future even more grim. I reached out to Dr. Jen Arnold from Little People via Twitter since she was the only choriocarcinoma survivor. The only response I got was a tweet like. I had to find support and I couldn't find it. I joined the one molar pregnancy group via FB but quickly found these women were not on the cancer side of this disease and I was not accepted; I was told that I only 'scare them'. It was then that I created my own (initial) group and awareness page just to be heard all while searching for other survivors to relate with. I found myself doing the same on other social media avenues. This grew and grew into what and where it is today. I am very honored to say that pushing thru what was the hardest time and being my own advocate and for others, I have gained many deep friendships and bond with women around the world. Being an awareness advocate has helped me heal through this incredibly hard journal and survivorship because life after pregnancy loss and cancer is much harder as we all try to find our new normal and living with long-term chemo side effects. Women and their families do not have to do it alone now, all because God's grace and turning something terribly bad into good.
You can find all my blogs on https://www.ihadcancer.com/cindylupica where I eventually created a FB group and blog for all other cancers as well. From there are links to my other social media accounts. I am very blessed and hit my 6 year cancerversary in May! This Laguna Beach event helped heal and changed all of our lives. I am so very honored to have the trust and love from these incredibly beautifully strong women, women of all ages and from all around the world. We share a life bond that no one can break and I will forever cherish this. I will forever humbly cherish this with victims' families as well as us survivors are their lost voices for awareness, support and global medical equality and knowledge/treatment."
My last prenatal exam was the morning of September 30, 2013. He did another exam, etc and he still had no explanation for to the continued increased contractions. I addressed my high concerns again of possibly not making it to the hospital. I was now at 39 weeks and he said the baby was full-term so he slightly stretched my cervix. We drove back home and by afternoon the contractions were back. Was I in real labor? Were these the 'false' ones I'd been experiencing since around 25 weeks? Before long, I realized I was in labor. The timing of the contractions were suddenly patterned. I knew we would not make the hospital, and I feared the worst. We made it just 3 miles from our house and my water fiercely busted in the vehicle. By this time, we were already on the phone with my doctor whom said we'd make it and he'd meet us at the hospital, waiting. No, we clearly were not going to make it! I told my husband to hang up and call 911 but we both knew it was a long shot because they'd either come from our own town, opposite direction, or the town the hospital was in. We were in a bind. The firetruck met us half-way in the dry lakes. There were three techs, all in training, and honestly not much help. I was definitely on my own now. In the back of the ambulance, I used my yoga breathing to hold off the contractions to push for delivery. It took a lot of mindset and it got to the point I couldn't hold off any longer. I asked if I could push and he said I could since we were already less than a block away. He then asked if I'd had prior placenta problems. I told him I did so he said he'd leave it for my doctor.
In the hospital, my doctor delivered the placenta, held it up and slowly spun it around and back around the opposite way. It was beautiful in color and he said it was all in tact. Settled in my room later, I became very weak, nearly passing out when I sat up to go to the bathroom. My nurse said it was normal after birth and to put my head between my legs for a few minutes. As she assisted me to the bathroom, I nearly fainted again. I heard her yell for help and shout off some other medical terms, trying to hold me up and pull the cord for help. I had 2 or 3 nurses holding me up then carefully putting me on the toilet as they poured orange juice into my mouth. Something was wrong, I knew it. Later that night, my newborn daughter was rushed off to the NICU for an "unknown infection" where she stayed for 3 days pumped with antibiotics and tests. I fought around the clock to pump, measure, bottle, visit and feed her. I had never bottle fed any of my kids so this was a great disappointment.
When it was time to discharge me, my doctor asked if I felt good enough to go home and without my baby. I still felt very ill and extremely light-headed so I asked if I could stay until my baby was discharged, and we could go home together. He said, "Yes, I can do that for you." He mentioned that he knew I lost a lot of blood, though he wasn't sure how much since the tech didn't save any of the birth; a blood transfusion was not wanted to be given so the best for me would be rest, diet and iron pills. I found out that all the labor and delivery nurses thrived on my delivery story. My baby and I made the front page and because she was born near the signal where Wal-Mart is so they called her 'Wally". They continued on for 2 days cracking jokes and brought me the newsstand flyer and a newspaper.
Once we were home, I continued to feel unwell and my color remained off, almost a pale yellow. At my fourth postpartum week I had a appointment where a pap was done and I was still bleeding significantly. He said this was fine and all looked good in the exam. I still felt something was not right. I continued to bleed for another 4 weeks, a total of 8 weeks postpartum. I felt a bit better and was happy to see the bleeding stopped gradually as it was supposed to but concerned as to the time length. I kept hearing my doctor's voice that I was an older mom...it was hormones.....Two weeks I went without any bleeding. I woke up in the night to use the bathroom when I saw a dark stain underneath me. What? I felt it. It was wet. I went to the bathroom, turned on the light; it was red, it was blood. It was on me, too. Something was wrong. I don't bleed like that. I was exclusively breastfeeding so a menstrual cycle was unlikely (but I was an 'older mom', I heard). I wasn't going to wake my husband because he'd just fallen asleep after working a late night shift. I figured if I had bleeding in the morning or in the day, I would call my doctor. Nothing happened until a day or or two later.
The date was January 31st, mid-afternoon. Going to the bathroom, I passed a large, flat grape-like clot. It was compacted. I knew then something was terribly wrong. I found my husband in the kitchen, told him as I began to cry. He said I needed to call the doctor now. My doctor was not available. I told the receptionist that I am bleeding 4 months after birth and I need to talk to him; please page him asap. He called me back at 4 pm and said to come in now. We went in and on the vaginal ultrasound was a large grapevine image on the right side of my uterus. He said it was likely 'retained placenta' and I'd need a D&C. I knew this was not the case because I saw the placenta and he assured it was "healthy and in-tact". He suggested we go down to this one hospital (over an hour away from town alone) where there are specialists and great doctors. I asked why we can't go next door, it's closer. He said it would break us since we were in-between insurances. I said, "Can we go next week?" His face grew hard. "How about tomorrow morning?" What was he saying? "Go home. Get a good night sleep and tackle this first thing in the morning. Go at 8 am and tell them I sent you."
We did just that. I pumped enough breast-milk for a 24 hour period and brought my little bottle and nipple from the hospital. Upon getting there, we went in the ER department. The first thing they did was give me a pregnancy test. Then urine test. Several nurses said, "You're pregnant." A few hours later they said, "You're miscarrying." They were all unsure what to do with me. I pressed that I was NOT pregnant, NOT miscarrying, I had just given birth 4 months ago. ER passed me to another floor and this continued on for hours; floor to floor, unsure of me, my sanity. I remember them even giving me a cognitive test at some point. I stuck to my story and refused to go home nearly 2 hours away to bleed to death. Another vaginal ultrasound was done and that grape-vine image could not be seen. The doctor tried and tried; she even had me get in different positions but it was not there. I reassured her firmly that there was something definitely there because my ob/gyn and I saw it just last night. She then did an exam and said my cervix felt like I was about 5-6 months pregnant. She was dazed.
I eventually ended up on the 4th floor, Labor and Delivery since it was the likeliest place to put me. We ended up in a little exam room where the same dr kept saying "it was a heavy period". I knew this was not true. I knew my body. By this time it was evening and I needed to use the bathroom. Walking down the hall, I found it at the end. Then it happened. Blood began to run down my legs. I didn't even get my shorts down and then it poured down. I then felt either clotting or large clots and wasn't sure what to do. Would this ever stop? Do I try to remove this now huge clot of clots? I needed to get help! I needed a nurse! Then I remembered the new moms and expectant moms in the halls waiting for a room. I can't have them see this! What do I do? I was afraid to move but the blood was not stopping and the puddle got larger. I cracked the door and saw one. I shut it and softly cried, "Lord! Why?!" but in my head I screamed. I peeked out the door again and saw a nurse. I got her attention as she passed by, and when she entered the bathroom, her face dropped. She ran to get help and 2 other nurses came in as they tried to cover me up with towels/blankets to pass through the hall. We can't have these new mothers see this!
Back in my room, I was near passing out as soon as they laid me down. Barely able to talk from weakness, I clinched my jaw and demanded my husband to get someone NOW because I was going to go; honestly, I didn't know if I'd wake up. They quickly lowered the bed as far as it could go to elevate my feet higher than my head. After the doctors' scrambling in and out (we could hear them in the halls and on PD), the head dr came back in and sat me back to horizontal. It was then that we truly saw the situation at its worst. Blood began to pour out again. She initially had pads and realized this wasn't enough for the blood loss, asking for a bucket. As the terror and fear set on her face, my husband asked if she'd ever seen this much blood before. By this time we were on bucket two with very large clots; soccer ball size. She avoided the answer and said again, "It's a heavy period." I looked at my husband and I saw his fear for the first time. She said I would still be
discharged and I again refused to go home; this was not a period. It was then my husband was hesitant for me to go home.
Suddenly, another dr poked his head in, saw the hemorrhage, asked if they'd done a b-hcg. They said they hadn't and he demanded to do one STAT. Within the hour, the hemorrhage stopped and we had 3 doctors at the foot of my bed. They explained I had gestational trophoblastic disease from a twin (complete) molar pregnancy and I had choriocarcinoma and would need chemo. I said, "That sounds like cancer." One doctor said, "Yes, it is, and we need to admit you tonight and to some extensive tests to see if it's metastasized. You will need chemo right away." We then said, "Our baby had a twin? We lost a twin baby?" The middle doctor, the one that'd been talking, sighed and said cautiously, "It all depends on how you view conception. I'd-we'd (the other 2 doctors) would like to say yes you did, what would've been the twin to your daughter; your 4 month old newborn. We suspect the cancer was fully gestated between 17-29 weeks into your pregnancy." (I usually average it out to about 25 weeks). We were there just over 12 hours and we finally got a diagnosis! The date was February 1, 2014. That early morning was the last time I'd ever breastfeed.
How'd we get so lucky to have these three doctors explain this complex situation to us? I asked to breastfeed my baby one last time but I could not. My milk was dry and I was dehydrated. I fought all I could but had to surrender. I said goodbye to her and my husband and that night they found the cancer had gone to my right lung only, thank the Lord. The next day my team decided to insert a picc-line over a port and gave me a blood transfusion. February 3rd, I started my first of four weekly single methotrexate injection shots, the 1st being inpatient. My b-hcg was over 221,000 and climbing, so they switched me over to a grueling cocktail called ema/co. This consists of 5 different chemos: etoposide, methotrexate, act-D or dactinomycin, cyclophosomide and vincristine. The first 3 are given over 24 hour period as inpatient and is 2 weeks worth of chemo, while the last 2 chemos are given as outpatient. I had 8 cycles or rounds of this, totaling 6 1/2 months of solid chemotherapy, 12 total chemo cycles. In-between this I faced consistent nephropathy, painful Neupogen shots, Loveknox shots and bruising, another blood transfusion, fevers, an infection, and chemo side effects. One time there was a scare with my labs that showed possible newly developed leukemia! This not only delayed my chemo yet again, but terrified me and my family! It turned out the lab had some discrepancies. Med students continuously swirling around me as a learning encyclopedia. I had to repeat my story and give answers to the same questions to different faces, some even doctors. I had no privacy, although my nurses always gave me the best front-faced room! I was royalty! It was a shame the hospital food wasn't (which made me sicker and harder to plan for meals to eat or take-in delivery and additional weight loss despite the weekly steroids).
During this time, I frantically searched for any support, info and help all while lying in my hospital bed (in-a-patient usually lasted Monday to Wednesday, Thursday if things went slowly or other issues). It was then that I found only two cases on the internet, one made media the other via Facebook. I had not even a Facebook account, nor any social media account! In order to see the page, I had to create an account and so I did. It turned out that both women did not survive, making my possible future even more grim. I reached out to Dr. Jen Arnold from Little People via Twitter since she was the only choriocarcinoma survivor. The only response I got was a tweet like. I had to find support and I couldn't find it. I joined the one molar pregnancy group via FB but quickly found these women were not on the cancer side of this disease and I was not accepted; I was told that I only 'scare them'. It was then that I created my own (initial) group and awareness page just to be heard all while searching for other survivors to relate with. I found myself doing the same on other social media avenues. This grew and grew into what and where it is today. I am very honored to say that pushing thru what was the hardest time and being my own advocate and for others, I have gained many deep friendships and bond with women around the world. Being an awareness advocate has helped me heal through this incredibly hard journal and survivorship because life after pregnancy loss and cancer is much harder as we all try to find our new normal and living with long-term chemo side effects. Women and their families do not have to do it alone now, all because God's grace and turning something terribly bad into good.
You can find all my blogs on https://www.ihadcancer.com/cindylupica where I eventually created a FB group and blog for all other cancers as well. From there are links to my other social media accounts. I am very blessed and hit my 6 year cancerversary in May! This Laguna Beach event helped heal and changed all of our lives. I am so very honored to have the trust and love from these incredibly beautifully strong women, women of all ages and from all around the world. We share a life bond that no one can break and I will forever cherish this. I will forever humbly cherish this with victims' families as well as us survivors are their lost voices for awareness, support and global medical equality and knowledge/treatment."
