An inspirational story: Kathryn Fiddler

‘We are all courageous together’ — Kathryn's story

In my heart, I wasn’t really surprised by my diagnosis. I had a different story than many.

I had breast pain that wouldn’t resolve. After a few weeks, I went to my primary care provider and she ordered a mammogram. I had just had one in October, but she ordered another one, then an ultrasound, then an MRI when the pain continued despite negative imaging. The MRI showed several tumors and I needed a biopsy. I saw Dr. Sechler on Jan. 6, 2023, and he shared the imaging and the plan for a biopsy the following week. The biopsy revealed cancer. Dr. Sechler was incredibly kind, compassionate and so caring when he called. He let me process as we developed a plan.

What I learned, as have so many before me, is that diagnosis is only the first step. There are multiple biopsies, genetic tests, additional radiology studies, lab draws and more. Once the plan is developed, there are a variety of “if this, then that” steps along the way. It’s a waiting game that is hard on a good day and overwhelming on a tough day. My husband and daughter, friends, family and colleagues sent texts, cards and emails sharing their belief that I would be OK, I was strong, I was going to “beat this!” It’s hard to believe those words when you don’t have a plan, when you’re deeply unsettled in your future. When it got hard, I rested in those words of friends and family and prayed — a lot.

While I was waiting for a plan, a surgery date and follow up, I focused on being as healthy as I could. I walked — and walked, and walked some more — I continued at the gym, I drank lots of water, and I ate better. I believe this helped me continue to focus and keep moving forward. Marcus Aurelius said, “When jarred unavoidably by circumstances, revert at once to yourself and don’t lose the rhythm more than you can help. You’ll have a better grasp of the harmony if you keep going back to it.” I think that was my saving grace, I dealt with the unknown by keeping my rhythm.

Finally, after a month of tests, I had a surgery date for a mastectomy. My genetic testing came back negative for the BRCA gene, the one I could pass on to my daughters. I sobbed. My daughters had one less risk factor for breast cancer, and I was so grateful.

"I have a newfound appreciation for how important this message is: please get your mammogram. Men, you are not immune. Please listen to your body and use your primary care provider as an ally in care."

I had surgery in late February right after my birthday. Everything went well and I was home the next day. Then, more waiting for the pathology. My lymph nodes were negative, but my cancer was invasive ductal carcinoma, so … you guessed it … more tests. I waited again for more genetic tests to learn if I needed chemotherapy or not. Finally, I had test results and an oncology appointment, we were very close to the next plan. I met with the oncologist, learned the plan for chemotherapy and got started. Six hours, one day, every three weeks, for 12 total weeks. My husband and I looked at each chemo treatment as “date day.” It got me through.

Chemo was hard, everything tasted terrible, naps were important to survival, but I was surrounded and supported by so many amazing people, family, friends, colleagues. Kindness was at every corner. I know how fortunate I am and was to be surrounded by the love of people close to me.

Losing my hair was hard. The first day I walked into work bald, I was scared to death. It took more courage than I thought I had. Here I was, a mom, wife, daughter, nurse, military veteran, marathon runner, vice president, DNP … yet walking into a room as a bald woman took more courage than anything I had done before.

Robert Louis Stevenson said, "Everyday courage has few witnesses, but yours is no less noble because no drum beats for you and no crowds shout your name.” I love that quote. We all are courageous in so many ways every day. The day I walked in, so many people embraced me with such love and kindness. This TidalHealth community is amazing, and I am so thankful for the team we have here and the care we provide for each other.

So today I am here, nine months post diagnosis. I have successfully made it through surgery, chemotherapy, many miles of walking, many tears and many hugs. I have been surrounded by friends, family, and colleagues. I have been prayed for by so many and felt lifted at times when I thought I couldn’t lift myself up. This process has made me reflect on my profession, as a nurse and now a patient. I find I listen more when people share their stories, and understand more the challenge of the unknown, access to care and balancing life and chronic disease.

This journey has only increased my passion for primary care and prevention. I have a newfound appreciation for how important this message is: please get your mammogram. Men, you are not immune. Please listen to your body and use your primary care provider as an ally in care. I personally know of 16 women who have gotten their mammograms who hadn’t in years after sharing my story. I know of friends who scheduled additional recommended testing even though they were scared. We are all courageous together.

This past year has been humbling for me, but it has taught me so much about allowing others into my life. A quote by Maria Popova highlights my greatest lesson. “The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship, family, or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work, steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments with life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for each other.”

I thank this entire TidalHealth team for providing me and so many of us on our team that beautiful light in the times when we cannot see our own.