I heard stage 4 cancer. I thought, “Okay, it’s September. I’ll get chemotherapy, lose my hair, and be gone by Christmas.” That was my mindset. I like helping people and I also like being in control, so cancer completely threw me off because it wasn’t part of my plan.
In May 2021, I turned 60. I remember waking up on my birthday thinking it would be the best year of my life. About a month and a half later, while working, I had an ocular migraine. It wasn’t painful, just like looking through a kaleidoscope for 30 to 60 seconds. I was referred to an ophthalmologist who ran several tests, including a CBC. A couple of weeks later, I had pain in my leg after standing up. I thought it was a muscle cramp, but it turned out to be a partial blood clot.
Around the same time, my optometrist suggested I get a physical because of these unusual symptoms. I saw my primary care physician, who ordered a CT scan. When I checked the results in my health portal, I saw words like “metastasized” and other cancer-related terms. I was confused and worried. When I asked my doctor what the chances were that it wasn’t cancer, she told me there was only about a 1% chance it wasn’t.
A biopsy later confirmed non-small cell lung cancer, specifically adenocarcinoma. A brain MRI showed metastases in my brain, which explained the balance issues I had been experiencing. What made it even more surprising was that I had no lung symptoms at all.
My oncologist made a key decision that helped me avoid chemotherapy. Instead, a blood biopsy was ordered, which revealed an EGFR mutation. This meant I could take a targeted therapy pill instead of traditional chemotherapy. I don’t remember fully understanding biomarker testing at first—I was in a fog during those early months. It was overwhelming to process the diagnosis and then learn that I wouldn’t need chemo, but I also had a mutation that could be treated.
My oncologist recommended getting a second opinion from a specialist at UCSF who was more experienced with my mutation. That helped me understand things better and introduced me to support groups and resources like EGFR communities and lung cancer research organizations. That’s when I really started learning more about lung cancer. I’m not an expert, but I know much more now than I did 4½ years ago.
Biomarker testing is essential for finding the right treatment. About 10–15% of non-small cell lung cancer cases have the EGFR mutation, which can be treated with targeted therapy—a daily pill designed to block the specific cancer signals. Cancer treatment is not one-size-fits-all. Patients need genomic testing, including DNA and RNA analysis, to identify mutations and match them with the right drugs.
This approach allows for personalized medicine. Instead of a general treatment, the therapy is tailored to the patient’s specific mutation. Over time, I’ve learned to advocate for myself. When I experience progression, I request additional testing, including both blood and tissue biopsies. Tissue biopsies are considered the gold standard because they provide more complete information, while blood biopsies only reflect what is circulating at the time.
In October, I started the targeted therapy pill. By December, scans showed no evidence of disease in my brain or lungs. After about nine months, however, the cancer began to grow again in my upper right lung. My team used stereotactic body radiation therapy, a precise and non-invasive treatment that delivers high-dose radiation in a few sessions.
Despite that, by spring 2023, the cancer progressed again. I developed a resistance mutation known as MET amplification. At the same time, there was an opportunity to join a phase 2 clinical trial specifically for patients with EGFR mutations who had progressed. I participated, and the treatment worked for about nine months before the cancer grew again, which led to me being removed from the trial.
After that, I had more radiation and continued monitoring through scans. By summer 2024, there was further progression, and I moved on to chemotherapy. In January 2025, another scan showed additional progression. At that point, it was clear that both EGFR and MET mutations needed to be addressed together. This became my fourth line of treatment, and I’ve now moved into my fifth.
Another important test my oncologist used was IHC testing, which checks for overexpression. In addition to having MET amplification, I also have MET overexpression. This led to a new treatment option, combining drugs to target both mutations more effectively.
Over time, I’ve become more comfortable seeing progression on scans. Instead of fear, I now see it as information. It helps guide the next steps in treatment. I remain hopeful that there will always be another option.
Eventually, I transitioned my care to a thoracic oncologist who specializes in lung cancer. My oncologist and I make decisions together. I value being involved because it’s my life. If he disagrees with something, he explains why, and we work through it as a team.
After my diagnosis, I also felt a strong desire to help others. I joined a peer mentoring organization for newly diagnosed lung cancer patients. This allowed me to support others facing the same uncertainty I experienced when I first heard, “you’ve got cancer.”
Being part of a community with others who share similar mutations has been incredibly valuable. We learn from each other and offer support. I can share personal experiences, like what has helped me manage side effects, while always encouraging others to consult their doctors.
Through this journey, I’ve tried to focus on what I can learn. Some days are harder than others, but I try not to dwell on “why me.” Instead, I focus on how to live my best life and find fulfillment. In many ways, my life feels more meaningful now than before my diagnosis. I have a deeper sense of gratitude because I understand what it feels like not knowing what the future holds.
Hope, to me, means a better future. It also means research. Without research, there would be no new treatments. I’ve benefited from therapies that didn’t even exist when I was first diagnosed. Treatment approaches for my mutation have also improved over time.
Hope is essential because without it, there is nothing to look forward to. I’ve learned that even when things feel hopeless, that feeling doesn’t last forever. Like clouds passing through the sky, difficult emotions come and go, but the blue sky is always there. You allow yourself to feel what you feel, but you keep going, because hope will return.
Diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer - “I Thought I’d Be DEAD By Christmas
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