Julia Tastor

November 2024

My story starts back in June of 2020. I had begun to experience extreme acid reflux and heartburn. At this time, I was just about to turn 18, and, as you can imagine, this was very concerning to me. I met with a doctor over Zoom because of COVID-19, and I was told to feel my stomach and see if anything felt off. I jokingly turned to my mom and said, “What am I supposed to be feeling for? Cancer?” and we both laughed. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would get cancer. Little did 17-year-old Julia know…

Well, fast forward one and a half years; I had attended one doctor’s appointment after another, where I was told I just had IBS and anxiety until I was finally taken seriously. I had finally been diagnosed with Behcet’s Syndrome, which actually has many of the same symptoms as ovarian cancer. I had constant bloating, yet I lost 50 pounds in 3 months without trying. I had severe food aversions, abdominal pain, irregular and extremely heavy periods, and on top of all that, I had constant heartburn. I could only eat plain chicken, sweet potatoes, avocado, and sourdough bread for a while.

Backtracking here: I am originally from Roseville, California, a suburb of Sacramento. I had been a very active child for my whole life. I played competitive soccer for 12 years, and I have two sisters with whom I was highly active. During my sophomore year of high school, I randomly put on weight at a rapid pace but again was told by doctors that I was just unhealthy and needed
to watch what I ate. Newsflash: I was severely depressed, and I stayed this way until I started feeling sick in 2020.

I graduated high school in 2020, and in March of 2021, I moved up to Portland, Oregon, for my first year of college at Portland State University. I had flare-ups of something unknown to me, and I decided to see a gynecologist up here. When she walked into the room, the first thing she said was, “I read your chart, and I think you have an autoimmune disorder.” I had been fighting for someone to take me seriously for so long. She did. She saw me, and she saw my struggle. She referred me to a rheumatologist, and he put me on birth control to help with my periods, which, unbeknownst to both of us, would later become one of the biggest feeders of my cancer.

I share this backstory because it is essential for understanding my story. It was not until I moved to Portland that I found my voice in who I am. My mom and dad pushed me and my sisters as children to explore the world on our own. That is precisely what I did; they are why I am the person I am today. I joined a sorority and became the President–go Delta
Gamma! I found my passion for public health and working with kids. I found the most amazing friends and boyfriend.

In August of 2023, I started to experience UTI-like symptoms, which I had been feeling on and off for years, but this was to the extent that was not normal to me. I had bloating and pain so bad that I could not even fit into jeans that I had bought just a month prior. I decided to go to urgent care, where a doctor immediately sent me to imaging. I was going to hold off on going because I thought the supposed UTI would help itself. However, my boyfriend, Martin, forced me to go to urgent care again to expedite the imaging process.

What they found in my ultrasound was two cysts. There was one on my left ovary and one on my right ovary. Three days later, I saw another gynecologist who tested my CA-125 and got a CT scan. My CA-125 was 147, and my CT scan showed that the cysts were 13cm on my left ovary and 8.5cm on my right. Doctors were confident that I did not have cancer because all they could see were cysts, not the spread that they would later find. I remember freaking out when my CA-125 was elevated. My parents told me: “If this is cancer, then you have an army behind you that will wrap their arms around you and fight this thing with you.”

On September 20th, I had a c-section-style cystectomy where cancer was found everywhere when they opened me up. I was diagnosed with stage 3c low-grade serous carcinoma on September 29th, at age 21. One unique aspect of my case was the fact that I also had grade 1 germ cell ovarian cancer present in the right ovary, which was a solid mass 6cm large.

I had become a gynecologic oncology (gyn-onc) patient from that day on. Ugh. The most amazing woman ever, my gyn-onc, when she diagnosed me, said, “If I cry, it is not because I am worried or don’t know what I am doing, but it is because I am human, and this is just sad.” That immediately made me feel like I was in the right place at the right time and the right hands. Her compassion as a provider saw me as a human and not just another case. She looked at me and treated me like I was her daughter. She made me feel like I COULD do this.

I was told to freeze my eggs because of the hysterectomy I would need. When I went to the fertility doctor and attempted to freeze my eggs, I thought to myself: “Oh, I’m okay; I can do this alone.” Note to self: I am never going to appointments alone again. The doctor, who was cold, looked at me and said, “Your tumors are back; we can’t do this.” I found out later that my tumors were, in fact, not back. Nonetheless, I did not want to keep being emotionally disappointed, so I decided it would be best to get my hysterectomy and give up on the possibility of saving my eggs.

Five weeks later, on October 28th, I had a total hysterectomy and debulking surgery, where I was re-staged to stage 3a. The cancer was removed from my uterus, ovaries, cul-de-sac, bladder, colon, omentum, and lymph nodes for good measure. I was terrified to have this surgery. Menopause at 21? I could relate to my mom now more than I could my sisters. My one saving grace was the fact that I knew I had my family and friends. My boyfriend, whom I had only been dating for six months then, said, “If this is something you have to do to live, we will find a way to have the life you dream of in the future, but you have to live.” His encouragement, unwavering love, and that from my mom, dad, and sisters showed me that I would be fine. Six weeks later, I went through 6 rounds of Carboplatin and Taxol.

I stepped down from my role as President of Delta Gamma-Eta Omega and from my senior year of college to focus on my health. I had the option to go back to California to go through treatment, but ultimately decided to stay in Portland. Why? Because the community I made in Portland has become family to me, I knew they could hold me up when my own family could not be there. My parents took turns coming to Portland to help me; my younger sister skipped weekends of college to stay with me; and my older sister called and checked on me weekly. My friends and boyfriend helped me get groceries, go to appointments, take me to the ER as a group when I spiked a fever after chemo, moved my entire apartment with my dad 2
days post chemo, and so much more.

The community I have and the support I have found are really unbelievable. Who thinks they would get cancer at 21, let alone ovarian cancer? No one. Despite that, I have found my voice through my story and my purpose in life. I am pursuing a degree in Public Health Pre-Nursing at Portland State University and plan on becoming an Oncology Nurse Practitioner. I genuinely believe the mental side of cancer is not discussed enough. I found that through the support of my family and friends, I looked at this journey with a “glass half full” or optimistic viewpoint. While incredibly angry–believe me, I am–I knew I had no choice but to fight. If my story can help save other women, then I know this happened for a greater purpose, and I will be grateful for that.