Tia Clarke

There is so much to my story that I could write a novel, but I’ll just share with you the hurdles I had to overcome in order to fight breast cancer and get to where I am today.

In 2000, I discovered a lump in my breast about the size of a green pea. At the time, I was faced with poor health insurance and my husband had just been diagnosed with prostate cancer. I made the decision to put off my own treatment in order to avoid the loss of income of both heads of household.

When I was finally able to focus on my treatment, I was diagnosed with a Stage III widely metastatic breast cancer. The lump had grown to the size of a walnut and, by procrastinating, my treatment options narrowed to a full mastectomy.

The reality of having to lose my entire breast to a disease that I could not see or really feel was shocking. I cried long tears as I argued with myself as to the reasons I would encounter this tragedy. I endured six chemotherapy sessions and 35 radiation treatments. I found myself just asking God for the strength to want to get out of bed. As fate would have it, I adopted my 10-year old grandson during this time. He became my crutch and my will to get up each morning. I also began my singing career as a jazz artist.

Once my treatments ended, and just as life was getting back to normal, in early August 2005, I was diagnosed with cancer for a second time. My breast cancer had come back, and this time the cancer cells had spread to my bladder. I was told there was nothing else that could be done, to go home and get my affairs in order. This devastating news ripped through my family like an earthquake. My husband took me home—weak, frail, and severely depressed.

Shortly after, on a fateful Saturday morning at 2 a.m., I saw a commercial on television about Cancer Treatment Centers of America (CTCA). I sobbingly reached for my cell phone and dialed the 800 number on the TV screen. The beautiful voice of Debbie Kidd (a CTCA Oncology Information Specialist) answered the phone. After 35 minutes, Debbie had calmed me down and reassured me that there was always hope.

Within a few weeks (in October 2005), my husband and I were on a plane to CTCA at Midwestern Regional Medical Center in Zion, Illinois for a second opinion, and what I hoped was a second chance at life.

After several days of testing, Dr. Levin reported to us that they could help! I was prescribed fractionated-dose chemotherapy, which I found to be a better, less intrusive way to treat my cancer. Life was looking good again!

In January 2006, I was able to be transferred to the newly opened Philadelphia branch of CTCA, Eastern Regional Medical Center, which was closer to my home in Dover, Delaware. I was very impressed with how smooth CTCA made this transition.

At Eastern, Dr. Willis continued the fractionated-dose chemotherapy treatments, which allowed me to be a functioning, whole being at home while I raised my three grandchildren. Throughout this year, while I received my chemo treatments at CTCA, I also produced my second CD entitled “Tia-Ke-mo,” a word I created to express “Tia on chemotherapy.”

Today, as a second-time breast cancer survivor in remission, I am an active member of the Cancer Fighter Program at CTCA. I also try to educate women in the community about the importance of breast self-examinations, mammograms, seeking treatment, and asking for a second opinion.

Since my breast cancer diagnosis, I have jumped over many hurdles. I learned about family, friends, ties and fate. I learned about commitment, inner faith, peace and acceptance. This experience has allowed me to accept my new body and my new state of mind, and to move forward.

My goals are to stay healthy; keep my priorities simple; stop to enjoy; never judge; try walking in someone else’s shoes for a day; and give thanks to God for all things at all times.

I also give big thanks to Cancer Treatment Centers of America, my family and dear friends, and my new friends at CTCA. It took the support, encouragement and inspiration of all of you to help me overcome these hurdles.

Breast Cancer