Tami’s Story: “My mind was stuck on the fact that I had cancer.”

Tami Angelucci’s bladder cancer journey began long before her actual diagnosis. For two years, she endured persistent discomfort and symptoms that doctors repeatedly dismissed as minor issues. It wasn’t until a series of unexpected turns that the truth finally came to light, leading to a life-altering diagnosis and treatment. What followed was a roller coaster of emotions, tough decisions, and an unexpected battle for her health. This is Tami’s story:

My bladder cancer journey started two years before my actual diagnosis. I had been seeing a urologist because I had a previous surgery for a bladder sling, and I thought that was what was causing my discomfort. I felt this constant pressure, and there was this overwhelming need to always go to the bathroom. The discomfort was becoming a regular part of my life. So, I went to the urologist, hoping to get some answers.

He did an in-office exam and quickly dismissed my concerns. He said, “Nope, it’s just a bladder infection. Take this antibiotic, and you’ll be fine. And by the way, cut back on your fluids. You’re drinking way too much, and that’s probably the real issue here.” So, I did what he told me—cut back on fluids and took the antibiotics—but the issues persisted. It was not getting better.

I remember one particular day after work, the pain and discomfort were so unbearable that I could barely stand or sit. I went to my primary care physician, hoping to get a fresh perspective. They ran a urinalysis, and it came back with a lot of alarming results, including blood in my urine. I was also having intense back pain at the time. My PCP thought it was a bladder infection combined with a kidney infection, so I was put on some heavy-duty antibiotics, which helped a bit. But the pressure, the urgency, and that awful feeling that I always needed to go to the bathroom didn’t go away. It lingered.

Fast forward to June of 2023. After two years of discomfort, I was finally diagnosed with bladder cancer. Reflecting on it now, the increased pressure and those frustrating symptoms started in mid-summer of 2021. But back then, I had no idea what was coming. At the time, I was just trying to balance my full-time job in the medical field and manage the discomfort.

I remember discussing my ongoing issues with a colleague at work. I turned to her and said, “I think I’m going to reach out to a different urologist.” I was frustrated and wanted another opinion, but I still wanted to stay within the same practice, mostly because starting as a new patient somewhere else felt like it would be a hassle. Plus, it would take more time to get in, and time was something I didn’t want to waste.

Luckily, I was able to get an appointment with a female urologist at the same office within three weeks. I was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this could be the turning point. When I went in to see her, she confirmed that there was blood in my urine and performed an exam. She noted some irritation and suggested we do further tests to figure out the cause of my symptoms—particularly the pressure and urgency.

She performed a cystoscopy in the office, as well as a urodynamics test, which was an odd experience, to say the least. Afterward, she admitted she wasn’t entirely comfortable with what she saw. She mentioned the possibility of my bladder sling having become embedded, which could be contributing to my issues. To investigate further, she scheduled me for a procedure at the hospital.

Here’s where things took an unexpected turn. In all my conversations with her, she never once mentioned the word “biopsy.” I thought I was simply going in for a deeper examination of my bladder, to see if the sling was the issue, and to possibly have some of it removed if necessary. So, I went ahead with the procedure, and afterward, my husband was less than pleased. The urologist didn’t even come out to talk to him face-to-face. Instead, she called him on the phone and said, “The procedure is done. We’re sending everything out to be checked. She can follow up in two weeks.”

We didn’t realize it at the time, but I had undergone a biopsy. Two weeks later, I went for my follow-up appointment, completely unaware of what was to come. I went alone, not expecting anything serious. As I sat down, the doctor walked in wearing her mask, and she said, “Well, I’m glad I followed my spidey senses.” Then, she paused. “I’m sorry, maybe that’s not the best way to put it.” She continued, “I’m just glad I did a bit more in-depth research.” I could feel the tension building in the room.

She looked me in the eye and said, “You have bladder cancer.” My heart stopped. I was speechless. I couldn’t even begin to process the words coming out of her mouth. I was alone, sitting there in shock as she started explaining the next steps—how I’d need another TURBT procedure, how I’d have a catheter, and how we’d discuss BCG treatment afterward. I could barely keep up with what she was saying. My mind was stuck on the fact that I had cancer. I didn’t even know I had a biopsy. When she mentioned it, I was floored. I thought we were just exploring the issue with the sling.

As I struggled to wrap my head around it, I returned to work and confided in my boss, who had also gone through bladder cancer but had lost her kidney first. She encouraged me to get a second opinion. I was overwhelmed, but I knew she was right.

In the meantime, I went in for my scheduled TURBT. Once again, the doctor didn’t come out to talk to my husband in person. She just called him on the phone. He was starting to ask questions, but she rushed him off, saying, “I have another case waiting. She can follow up in a week.” The catheter I was sent home with caused me excruciating pain. When I called to follow up earlier than expected, the office told me it was too soon, but I insisted on seeing the doctor because I was in so much discomfort. When she saw me, the exam was excruciating, but she sent me home, telling me to come back in a week.

At that point, my husband was furious, and I had enough. I decided to take my boss’s advice and scheduled a second opinion at Henry Ford Hospital with Dr. Craig Rogers. He was compassionate and thorough. After reviewing my case, he informed me that I’d need another TURBT to ensure clear margins before starting BCG treatment. He promised me he wouldn’t send me home in pain with a catheter, and true to his word, the experience was much better.

The process of switching doctors wasn’t easy, but I called in some favors, thanks to my connections from working in the same healthcare system. Dr. Rogers took over my case, and I finally felt like I was in good hands. He performed the next TURBT, and we began the BCG treatments—a series of six weekly treatments.

But just when I thought things were settling, my scans showed that the cancer had spread. After six rounds of BCG, the tumor had grown. Dr. Rogers referred me to Dr. Raza, who specializes in bladder cancer and urinary diversions. We discussed everything—my options, the surgery, and life after a radical cystectomy. It was overwhelming to take it all in, but he was thorough in explaining every detail.

From the time I was diagnosed in June to January, I went through three TURBTs and four rounds of anesthesia before my radical cystectomy. By January of 2024, I had surgery, and they removed two-thirds of my bladder. That was resected at the first TURBT by my urologist. Her exact words when I went in to see her that Monday following was, “Of course it’s uncomfortable. I resected two-thirds of your bladder.” I had a full radical cystectomy on January 18, 2024. They removed my bladder and 33 lymph nodes, six of which were positive for stage two of three. The tumor had laid flat, which made it harder to detect earlier on, but it was classified as T1 high-grade carcinoma in situ.

The surgery itself was done at Henry Ford West Bloomfield. It was a long nine-hour procedure, and afterward, I stayed in the hospital for five days. Even though I was one of the fastest to recover, it was a difficult time. Most of my hospital stay is a blur due to the medication and the effects of the anesthesia. My husband and daughter were there to support me, but I barely remember anything from those first few days.

The journey home was another challenge. We had a snowstorm, and my husband—who had just had surgery himself two weeks before—was the one who had to drive me back in the storm. When I got home, I was still nauseous and weak, and going up the stairs to take a shower nearly caused me to faint. Thankfully, my family was there to help.

My manager at work told me about BCAN. Word of mouth plays a crucial role in shaping opinions and making decisions, as people tend to trust recommendations from those they know. This personal communication often has a greater impact than traditional advertising, fostering credibility and connection.

Recovery has been slow, and there have been ups and downs. I’ve had complications with my thyroid, experienced vertigo, and have been seeing multiple specialists. But I’ve made progress. I returned to work in May, but now I’m focusing on healing and adjusting to life post-surgery.

Looking back, if I could talk to myself back in January, I would remind myself to be patient. I’d tell myself that it’s okay to take things slow and not blame myself for what’s out of my control. And to any woman experiencing blood in her urine, I’d say: advocate for yourself. Don’t settle for vague answers. If your doctor says it’s just an infection, push for more tests. Your life could depend on it.