According to Joy Woodson, breast cancer is an indiscriminate intruder.
“It’s rude; barges in and takes over your life without a word,” added Joy, 44, of Lilburn. “I didn’t see it coming.”
Joy had no family history of cancer, no unhealthy habits and no dangerous jobs (that might lead to cancer) when she was diagnosed in July 2023.
"I was enjoying being a new, solo mom via adoption," Joy said. Her baby had recently turned one, and she was recovering from a back injury that had kept her working from home for over a year.
“Spring and summer were supposed to be fun. But in May, I heard a pop in my upper chest and then a searing pain — like I had pulled a muscle or twisted a ligament.”
The pain and tightness persisted, and her left breast seemed to shrink. A routine breast exam in March was "unremarkable."
"I called my OB-GYN and asked for an ultrasound and diagnostic mammogram," Joy said. In June, her doctor suggested it was likely a cyst but ordered the additional scans.
"Maybe I had just been picking up my daughter too much," she speculated.
Despite knowing something was wrong, Joy took her daughter to the beach with family. Upon returning in July, she underwent tests, a biopsy and then received the diagnosis: invasive lobular carcinoma. A breast MRI later showed the cancer was twice as large as initially thought, having grown for months, likely years, hidden in dense breast tissue.
Joy’s surgical oncologist, Northside Hospital’s Dr. Erica Proctor, was reassuring, showing that the cancer was near the chest wall and skin layer. “Precarious – not impossible.”
“A mastectomy was the only surgical choice,” Joy said. Dr. Proctor referred her to Dr. I-Wen Chang, “a straight-shooting medical oncologist” two floors up who believed chemotherapy would shrink the extensive, but slow-growing cancer.
"And it did," Joy said. "But chemotherapy was hell. I experienced severe neuropathic side effects. I remember calling Dr. Chang’s nurse line, wailing into the phone. Blazing, itchy pain had stranded me in a parking lot one hour from home. It felt like hundreds of sewing pins had sat in an open flame and were now attacking me. It was awful, debilitating."
Joy said that was it for Dr. Chang, who’d already reduced the dosage once. So on the day of Joy’s fourth and final treatment, Dr. Chang walked into the room, sat directly in front of Joy and said: “No more.”
Dr. Chang decided to stop the chemotherapy. "Even if I threatened to break her legs, she said I wouldn’t change her mind. Her conscience would not allow it."
About six weeks later, Dr. Proctor performed surgery, finding cancer with lobular and ductal features, metastatic cancer in lymph nodes and precancerous tissue on the right side.
“Good thing I’d already decided to remove both breasts. Adios.”
Recovery and physical therapy followed, and it wasn’t easy. Catherine Doss, a therapist with Northside’s outpatient services, helped Joy push through the exercises one day at a time.
Then radiation. Joy said it was “the biggest mental wallop.”
“Driving there every day for six weeks seemed insurmountable. I drove there on autopilot. The brightest part of the day was picking up my daughter on the way home. Despite being exhausted, there’s something about a toddler’s spirit that will have you dancing to nursery rhymes. Every evening before a major part of the treatment, we had dance parties. ‘Go Mommy! Go Mommy!’”
Joy is thankful for the help of family and friends.
“My sister took my daughter to daycare for months. My mom stayed with me for weeks after surgery. My brother washed my daughter’s hair. Friends helped run my side business. They visited from afar, delivered food and ran errands,” Joy said. “It’s been a little less awful with them around.”
Almost a year since diagnosis, Joy is still stunned. “The you before cancer and the you after cancer are gulf streams apart,” she said. “I’ll have endocrine therapy for 10 years and physical therapy as needed, but when I reached the end of active treatments, it felt ethereal.
“Like faith and hope. Air and space. It felt expansive and freeing. And I'm grateful.”
Learn more about breast cancer care at Northside Hospital Cancer Institute.
* The health story shared here may portray atypical results of survival for this type of cancer, given its severity and stage. Atypical results are considered surviving a cancer that has less than a 50% five-year survival rate. Patients should consult an expert to discuss specific treatment plans and the possible outcomes before making medical decisions.
