HER2+ Advanced Breast Cancer Survivor
My whole life is still ahead of me
![](/public/prds/assets/Olivia Franz 2.jpg)
Olivia Franz treasures the support system that has helped her manage the HER2+ Stage IV inflammatory breast cancer diagnosis she faced at 27. She is now considered no evidence of disease (NED) and is looking forward to enjoying life as a new mom with her husband and their son.
Mastitis or a clogged milk duct seemed a reasonable explanation for the lump I felt a few months after our son was born. When it interfered with my nursing, I saw my OB/GYN who diagnosed it as mastitis and ordered an ultrasound. The radiologist agreed with the diagnosis. I was started on an antibiotic and told to massage the area.
A week later, the lump, which I described as a Silly Putty egg, had grown, and the skin on my breast looked like the peel of an orange. My OB/GYN ordered another ultrasound, but the tech had already left for the day. Because my doctor wanted it as soon as possible, the scheduler called around and, amazingly enough, the breast center could get me in the next morning. Usually it takes weeks or months to get in.
My mom went with the baby and me to the appointment. After the scan, things happened like wildfire. A patient advocate came in to schedule a biopsy for the next week. The radiologist changed it to that afternoon, then they decided to do it right then. I had a needle core biopsy in three places, skin samples in five places and samples taken from lymph nodes in my armpit.
It was just before Thanksgiving weekend, and we tried to enjoy the holiday while we waited for the results. On Monday, my mom went back with me to hear I had inflammatory breast cancer that was probably Stage III. The rather unfeeling doctor who gave me the news handed me a book about breast cancer and wished me good luck. We sat in the car for the next hour, calling my husband, my dad and my sister, and crying.
I contacted Driven by Heart, a local group designed to help people like me — newly diagnosed with no idea what to do first. Through them I found an oncologist and began to learn a whole new language.
My first PET scan showed the cancer had spread to my bones. My diagnosis was revised to Stage IV, HER2+ inflammatory breast cancer. My new doctor looked at me and said, “I’m going to get you into remission.” And he and the rest of my medical team did.
My treatment plan consisted of combination drug therapy, a single radical non-skin-sparing mastectomy that also removed 37 lymph nodes with no reconstruction, and radiation therapy. I’ll take drug therapy for as long as it is effective.
My incredible support system makes it possible for me to find joy in my life as a new mom with my wonderful husband and our perfect son, even through the cancer treatments.
My husband: Because he worked long hours, the baby and I moved in with my parents to make sure we had the best care. He had dinner with us every night after work and played with the baby before going home to sleep. He is supportive of everything I want to do with treatment. He is my rock.
My mom: Her selflessness is unending. She went with us to endless appointments. She cared for the baby when I couldn’t. She fed us, did our laundry and even climbed into the shower fully clothed to hold me when my long, platinum blonde hair suddenly fell out in clumps. She moved to Houston with the baby and me for six weeks while I had radiation therapy.
My dad: Before the diagnosis, I quit my job at the sheriff’s office to be a stay-at-home mom. There was a lapse before I could get on my husband’s insurance, but my dad insisted on getting us coverage just in case we needed it for the baby. As it turns out, we needed it for me! My dad bought a bell for me to ring when I finished chemotherapy. We had a full-blown Facebook event. Hundreds of people came out, including the SWAT team from the sheriff’s department and the local news. He also took charge of caring for my drains after surgery.
My sister: She changed her work schedule to help take care of the baby and me. Whether it was ordering the best wigs and caps, doing my makeup or just pampering me, she always made sure I felt beautiful.
My friends: I found a HER2+ group on Facebook. A friend of my mom’s connected me with an IBC survivor who became my guiding light. My best friend created a GoFundMe page and held fundraisers. Other friends donated breast milk when I could no longer nurse. My church family brought meals and prayed for us.
My faith: I believe my strong faith is why so many things fell into place. Each little miracle paved the way for the next.
Being NED is amazing, but it’s not peaceful. With every ache or pain, I wonder if it’s cancer. And with all my follow-ups, I get anxious. Anxiety medicine does wonders for me, and every NED scan increases my confidence. I have my whole life ahead of me.