On the Chair with Christine Handy, Model, Author, Speaker, Founder & Cancer Disruptor
Tell us a little about yourself.
Prior to my diagnosis I was a thriving mother-2 sons, self proclaimed athlete, wife, professional model, philanthropist, addicted to societies accolades, insecure, zero self esteem and totally dependent on my external beauty.
The year before my diagnosis, I had a torn ligament in my right wrist. I went to several doctors who all said I had to have surgery. I picked the surgeon with the pedigree, Stanford grad. He performed the surgery. My biggest complaint during that time was when would I get back to yoga, by Christmas he proclaimed.
6 weeks later the pretty pink cast came off, his physical therapist showed me a free exercises to start with to get movement back and I was on my way,
2 days later my arm ballooned with swelling and grotesque pain. I literally could not move in bed, I laid my heavy right arm on my chest like a mother holding an infant and shook in pain. After several hours of icing it I called my surgeon. It was a Sunday, and I was worried that I was disturbing him on his day off-(self-esteem issue).
The surgeon told my I over-iced it. I believed him. One week past and my arm was still on my chest, I was still in bed, and the swelling was ginormous.
I asked my husband to call the surgeon and take me to his office. Once in the surgeons office, I could hear him but he did not see me, his physical therapist told me I had over used it. She splinted it and sent me home.
One week later I called the surgeon again, my husband drove me, I carried my arm on my chest and I was seen by the surgeon. He told me I had this thing called RSD, it was a bummer but not to panic, I would see his pain management doctor and we would go from there.
He explained RSD was a misfire in your brain-basically my brain was saying to my right arm-PAIN-SWELLING, when in fact it was fine.
So I went to his pain management doctor, she loaded me up with pain meds and they sent me to a physical therapist far away from their offices.
A month went by, and still extreme pain, I ditched the narcotics but went to PT daily to get as much movement back in my right wrist as possible. Christmas had come and gone and still no yoga.
A month goes by and wrist is getting worse, I see the surgeon on occasion and the real bullying begins.
Long story much shorter, I finally get up enough courage, 6 months into this arm debacle and see a second opinion (self-esteem issue).
The new doctor took one Xray and every bone in my wrist was broken, I had no cartilage left and within hours I was in emergency surgery to dig out as much infection as possible. You see, the entire time, dated back to the original day of surgery, I had an infection brewing. It's as showing its nasty face by the pain, swelling and loss of movement, but the doctor was ignoring all the signs.
Ultimately, I went to NYC to HSS hospital where they excavated my own broken wrist, replaced it with cadaver bones, cadaver bone grafts and a cadaver Achilles tendon. My arm was now permanently fused-handicapped and in full pain.
6 weeks post arm fusion, I was back in NYC in a hotel with a heavy cast on from my finger tips to my shoulder attempting to take a shower. My heavy cast hanging out of the shower, I took the bar of soap and brushed it over my left breast to wash it and immediately felt a lump. 6 days later, still trying to imagine life with a fused arm, how would I cook? Drive? Type? Take care of my kids, myself, my husband, my modeling career? I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. 41 years young, no family history of BC and now a sickly woman needing constant care and attention.
