Persistence, Endurance and Purpose

My Story: Persistence, Endurance and Purpose

My story actually begins in the fall of 1998 when my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I’ve had aunts, my dad’s sisters, have it but this was my mom, how could this be? There was no history, as far as we knew of breast cancer on her side of the family, but here we were nonetheless. After discussing what laid in store as far as treatment was concerned, she began to cry. Not for herself, but she was worried that the new baby would meet her grandmother without hair because of the chemotherapy she would endure.

Fast forward to 2010 and these two were as thick as thieves bonding over their love of cooking, especially baking. As they made a mess of my kitchen, I snapped a photo of the two of them laughing it up as a cloud of flour swirled. My mom spent the entire next year searching for just the right apron to put this photo on as a gift for her granddaughter. On Christmas Eve 2011, I’m not sure who was happier, my mom or my daughter when she opened her gift. Little did we know, in three weeks this little girl would be telling her grandmother goodbye.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving week 2022 and my girlfriend pointed out that I must’ve dripped coffee on my white shirt. As I looked down, I found it strange that I dribbled coffee on the right side of my chest. But I’m a guy and could easily make a mess on the back of my shirt for that matter. As I went to the bathroom intending to change my shirt because we were having guests over, my nipple felt wet. Did I splash water on me as I washed my hands?

As I rubbed, the “water” wouldn’t go away so I started doing a little feeling around and more came out. So I did what most guys do I suppose, I faced the mirror and squeezed it. Fluid and blood came right out of my nipple, covering the mirror. It’s at this time I called my girlfriend (now fiancée) to check out this ‘cyst’ or weird pimple right on my boob. She knew right away it was neither and in a couple days, we headed to the emergency room.

It was here the word cancer was brought up the first time, as the radiologist took me in for a cat scan. His words were startling yet his tone comforting as he said, “you know, men can get breast cancer too. Peter Criss from KISS had it. I’m not saying you do but just wanted you to know.” The scan showed something and I was recommended to my doctor.

Having no insurance (a story for another time), I was bounced around with one county doctor telling me, “ehh, it’s most likely not cancer. That would be rare.” But my fiancée wasn’t settling for “probably,” she wanted to know and to be honest, I did too because I was getting kind of concerned. 

Her persistence in calling person after person finally got me to Libby’s Legacy, an agency who helps people in my situation. Through them I was connected with the Women’s Center for Radiology where I had a mammogram and a biopsy. Less than a week later I was given the news. I had male breast cancer. Libby’s Legacy helped connect me with a doctor in just a few days and I was off to the races, as they say.

The doctor confirmed I indeed had male breast cancer, explained how it occurred and made her suggestion, a double mastectomy. One would remove the cancer and the other would prevent it from coming back in my other breast. I agreed and the preparation had begun. I’d never had a surgery before. Shoot, I barely took medicine for a headache, so this was foreign territory for me.

Tuesday morning, February 14, 2023, Valentine’s Day, I walked into uncharted territory holding the hand of my fiancée. On a day when I should’ve been planning a romantic dinner, buying flowers and chocolate, here we were in the hospital so I could have a double mastectomy for male breast cancer. That evening I was home on the couch with two drain hoses coming out of my chest and no chocolate. Valentine’s Day has a whole new significance to us now. 

Follow-up visits and radiation were my future. It’s here I learned male breast cancer is about endurance. I still see my oncologist every six months and take a pill every night. Having male breast cancer is like a cross-country marathon race. There’s doctors, ups and downs with a wide range of emotions to contend with and a unique journey that lasts for years.

Through it all, I’ve rediscovered my purpose. I’m a speaker, with over 30 years experience and a writer who is also a male breast cancer survivor. This renewal of focus has led me to write and speak on the subject of male breast cancer and the essential value of early detection. I’m not sure how many men have gotten checked because of my story, but my brother did, and he tested positive for the BrCa2 gene mutation. As a male breast cancer survivor with a brother who carries the BRCA2 genetic mutation, I have not yet been able to undergo genetic testing because my insurance company is refusing to cover the cost. This impacts not only my own medical care and treatment decisions, but also the health considerations of other family members. My physician is currently appealing the decision, and I am awaiting their response.

Having male breast cancer has taught me persistence, endurance and purpose in living my best life. These three lessons I carry with me in every aspect of life, at least I try. There’s no giving up because this, as with life itself, is a long journey, one I will complete on top because I am a survivor. There are places to see, grandkids in Ireland to take fishing and family in South Africa to braai (grill) with. There’s life to live and I plan on living every bit of it.

Vic Clevenger

Speaker, Writer, Cook