Megan-Claire's Breast Cancer Story: My Symptoms were VERY Different | The Patient Story
Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2026 5:03 am
So I am Megan Claire Chase but I'm also known in the cancer space as Warrior Meg as well. I live right outside of Atlanta, Georgia, in Dunwoody. I grew up in Macon, Georgia. Um, and my claim to fame there is that I was a former cherry blossom princess in Macon, Georgia. Um, and I also have a cat named Nathan Edgar, also known as Baby Nady.
So I always start telling my story with I always knew I would get cancer, like I just knew it, but I thought it would be ovarian or cervical because it took my parents eight years to even get pregnant. They did multiple rounds of IVF and then when they did, during that third month, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. And so then that was, of course, traumatic, scary. There was no scenario where both of us would survive and thrive. It was either one of us would die and one would live or both of us would die. And it was very dire. And she actually started hemorrhaging to death, which is why I was born three months early. And my maternal grandmother, my nana, telling our whole entire family, know what's normal for your body because we are all different and that it's your patient right to be pushy. Like she has said that forever. Um, may God rest her soul.
And so growing up, I had all of the same issues that my mother did and that my nana did with my ovaries. And then I kept having abnormal pap smear. So I really seemed to be on that path of one of those cancers. And then I remember I got to have a preventative mammogram covered at the age of 35 because of that link between breast and ovarian. So I go and then they tell me, Hey, you are clear, come back when you're 40. And I'm like, Oh, okay, cool. Totally put it out of my head. They never went over the fact that I have dense breast.
But my symptoms were very different than my white counterparts, and that's why I often tell people, especially those who are Black and of color, that your symptoms may present differently, and it's up to you to push to make your doctors listen. What happened to me was rapid weight gain, dry and brittle hair, and then hair loss on one side only. Over about two and a half years, I also developed strange green bruises on my leg and arm. I kept going to doctors—primary care, endocrinologist—but blood tests kept coming back normal. I was repeatedly told to lose weight and eat better.
Eventually, I found a circular green bruise on my arm and a spot on my breast that I thought was a zit. Around August 31, 2015, I was in the shower when I suddenly felt a large, hard mass in my breast. I knew immediately something was wrong.
A biopsy was scheduled for September 11, 2015. I remember hearing the sound of the biopsy and feeling like something was off because the doctor took more samples than expected. Shortly after, I received a call while at work. The doctor told me I had invasive lobular breast cancer.
I was diagnosed with stage II invasive lobular breast cancer. This type is rare, especially in Black women, and is sometimes called the “sneaky cancer” because it can hide in healthy tissue and may not show up on a mammogram. I was also diagnosed under 40, which placed me in the young adult cancer category.
After the diagnosis, everything moved very quickly. I met with multiple specialists within days: an oncologist, a breast cancer surgeon, and a plastic surgeon. I was told I would need 16 rounds of chemotherapy. I also had a port placed for treatment.
I was overwhelmed with the financial burden. I was single, not making much money, and my insurance was limited. Due to timing issues, I was not eligible for short-term disability. I remember being told I should have planned for it, which felt insensitive given the situation. The total cost of treatment without insurance was nearly $400,000.
Thankfully, a social worker named Catherine helped me find grants to cover chemo, scans, medications, and even rent. Without that support, I don’t know what I would have done.
Before starting chemo, I was asked if I wanted to freeze my eggs. I wasn’t given enough time to process that decision, and I regret not having a proper fertility consultation.
Chemotherapy began quickly. I had 16 rounds in total, including drugs like Adriamycin and Cytoxan, followed by Taxol. I experienced severe side effects, including hair loss, mouth sores, nausea, fatigue, and neuropathy.
I developed painful mouth sores and blackening of my tongue and skin on my hands and feet. A pharmacist named Candace introduced me to a treatment called Gelclair, which helped coat my mouth and relieve symptoms.
One of the most devastating side effects was chemo-induced peripheral neuropathy. I felt an intense shock-like sensation, and afterward, I lost the ability to walk without assistance. I had to use a cane and sometimes a wheelchair.
After chemotherapy, I underwent surgery. I opted for a lumpectomy, though more tissue was removed than expected to ensure clear margins. I also had reconstruction and a reduction on the opposite breast. Unfortunately, complications led to infection and significant fluid buildup, requiring removal of 455 cc of fluid.
I then underwent 33 rounds of radiation therapy. The treatment caused severe burns to my skin and intense fatigue. Despite the challenges, I completed all treatments, even while continuing to work full time.
Throughout my journey, I learned the importance of advocating for yourself. It’s okay to ask questions, write things down, bring someone with you, or even record conversations with doctors. If you’re not comfortable speaking up, you can ask for help from a nurse navigator or social worker.
I also learned that every patient’s experience is different. Even the most vocal or educated person can feel overwhelmed in a medical setting. It’s important to take in information at your own pace and seek clarification whenever needed.
So I always start telling my story with I always knew I would get cancer, like I just knew it, but I thought it would be ovarian or cervical because it took my parents eight years to even get pregnant. They did multiple rounds of IVF and then when they did, during that third month, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. And so then that was, of course, traumatic, scary. There was no scenario where both of us would survive and thrive. It was either one of us would die and one would live or both of us would die. And it was very dire. And she actually started hemorrhaging to death, which is why I was born three months early. And my maternal grandmother, my nana, telling our whole entire family, know what's normal for your body because we are all different and that it's your patient right to be pushy. Like she has said that forever. Um, may God rest her soul.
And so growing up, I had all of the same issues that my mother did and that my nana did with my ovaries. And then I kept having abnormal pap smear. So I really seemed to be on that path of one of those cancers. And then I remember I got to have a preventative mammogram covered at the age of 35 because of that link between breast and ovarian. So I go and then they tell me, Hey, you are clear, come back when you're 40. And I'm like, Oh, okay, cool. Totally put it out of my head. They never went over the fact that I have dense breast.
But my symptoms were very different than my white counterparts, and that's why I often tell people, especially those who are Black and of color, that your symptoms may present differently, and it's up to you to push to make your doctors listen. What happened to me was rapid weight gain, dry and brittle hair, and then hair loss on one side only. Over about two and a half years, I also developed strange green bruises on my leg and arm. I kept going to doctors—primary care, endocrinologist—but blood tests kept coming back normal. I was repeatedly told to lose weight and eat better.
Eventually, I found a circular green bruise on my arm and a spot on my breast that I thought was a zit. Around August 31, 2015, I was in the shower when I suddenly felt a large, hard mass in my breast. I knew immediately something was wrong.
A biopsy was scheduled for September 11, 2015. I remember hearing the sound of the biopsy and feeling like something was off because the doctor took more samples than expected. Shortly after, I received a call while at work. The doctor told me I had invasive lobular breast cancer.
I was diagnosed with stage II invasive lobular breast cancer. This type is rare, especially in Black women, and is sometimes called the “sneaky cancer” because it can hide in healthy tissue and may not show up on a mammogram. I was also diagnosed under 40, which placed me in the young adult cancer category.
After the diagnosis, everything moved very quickly. I met with multiple specialists within days: an oncologist, a breast cancer surgeon, and a plastic surgeon. I was told I would need 16 rounds of chemotherapy. I also had a port placed for treatment.
I was overwhelmed with the financial burden. I was single, not making much money, and my insurance was limited. Due to timing issues, I was not eligible for short-term disability. I remember being told I should have planned for it, which felt insensitive given the situation. The total cost of treatment without insurance was nearly $400,000.
Thankfully, a social worker named Catherine helped me find grants to cover chemo, scans, medications, and even rent. Without that support, I don’t know what I would have done.
Before starting chemo, I was asked if I wanted to freeze my eggs. I wasn’t given enough time to process that decision, and I regret not having a proper fertility consultation.
Chemotherapy began quickly. I had 16 rounds in total, including drugs like Adriamycin and Cytoxan, followed by Taxol. I experienced severe side effects, including hair loss, mouth sores, nausea, fatigue, and neuropathy.
I developed painful mouth sores and blackening of my tongue and skin on my hands and feet. A pharmacist named Candace introduced me to a treatment called Gelclair, which helped coat my mouth and relieve symptoms.
One of the most devastating side effects was chemo-induced peripheral neuropathy. I felt an intense shock-like sensation, and afterward, I lost the ability to walk without assistance. I had to use a cane and sometimes a wheelchair.
After chemotherapy, I underwent surgery. I opted for a lumpectomy, though more tissue was removed than expected to ensure clear margins. I also had reconstruction and a reduction on the opposite breast. Unfortunately, complications led to infection and significant fluid buildup, requiring removal of 455 cc of fluid.
I then underwent 33 rounds of radiation therapy. The treatment caused severe burns to my skin and intense fatigue. Despite the challenges, I completed all treatments, even while continuing to work full time.
Throughout my journey, I learned the importance of advocating for yourself. It’s okay to ask questions, write things down, bring someone with you, or even record conversations with doctors. If you’re not comfortable speaking up, you can ask for help from a nurse navigator or social worker.
I also learned that every patient’s experience is different. Even the most vocal or educated person can feel overwhelmed in a medical setting. It’s important to take in information at your own pace and seek clarification whenever needed.