Never the same

A night of pleasant dreams was shattered for Cindy Williams when she felt a lump in her breast. It was the Thursday before Memorial Day of 2010, and she was certain that lump could mean only one thing: cancer.

She started bawling as she walked into Brookwood Medical Center the next morning. The lab technicians said nothing during her mammogram and ultrasound, but she remembers the vibe in the room was not good.

“They had serious faces. I was crying. I just knew,” Williams said. “They did a biopsy and the nurse called me with the news: it was breast cancer.”

Williams was devastated but relieved that she knew her next step. She had a lumpectomy, but her surgeon was “not happy” when she woke up.  He had to remove nine lymph nodes, five of which were cancerous. Williams’ cancer had spread outside her body, and she needed chemotherapy.

“I was scared,” Williams said. “I looked at my doctor, Allen Yielding, and asked him the question he hears all the time: Am I going to die?”

His response was quick: “No, no, no, you have a very treatable version of breast cancer.” 

Then Yielding wrote a single word on an index card and showed it to her. As Williams stared at that card, a smile started to break through the tears covering her face.  She turned from a victim with death knocking at her door to a warrior strengthened by hope and trust.

That card had one word written on it: cure.

“I will cure you,” Yielding said with a smile.

Williams drew confidence from her doctor, but the diagnosis still hit close to home.

“My daughter was 16, and my son was 12 [when I was diagnosed],” Williams said. “I was 16 when I learned of my mother having lymphoma. Mom survived the cancer, but she died from complication from the chemo.”

Williams started chemo on July 7, 2010.  Her coworkers, friends and family were very supportive, and her children supported her throughout the journey.

After many chemo sessions followed by several radiation treatments, Williams declares cancer-free. Now she revels in life and can taste every minute of every day.

“Life is way too short. It is also very delicious.  Nothing matters except your loved ones.  Scott and Kate are everything to me.  No matter what they are doing, I am there,” Williams said.

Williams’ takeaway from the entire experience was that cancer can strike in the most unlikely ways.

“The interesting thing is that I did not carry the breast cancer gene and no one in my family had it, and I still got it,” Williams said. “It is beyond important for girls to start checking themselves at an early age, that they communicate with their mothers and learn about this disease. Fifteen percent of breast cancer will never show up on a mammogram.  You have to check yourself.”

One of Williams’ fondest memories from those terrible days was early in her journey.  She was crying at her doctor’s office when he went outside and brought in another patient.

“She was six months ahead of me.” Williams said. “She looked at me and said: “Your life will never be the same.”

 Williams looked at her with sad eyes, until the woman smiled and added: “Your life is going to be much better.”