But every time she brushed her hair, a clump fell out. Then another. If chemotherapy isn’t cruel enough, it robs a cancer patient of their hair, and for some women, their identity.
So on Feb. 5, tired of her hair falling out, Harvey and her husband, Jeff, shaved her head. She called her boss, Jeremy Theiss, bus transportation supervisor for the district, and told him she’d return to work on Feb. 7, minus her hair.
Theiss called the other bus drivers — men and women — and suggested they wear wigs as a symbol of their support for a co-worker and friend battling breast cancer.
If Harvey was wearing a wig, everyone was wearing a wig, her co-workers figured. The scene outside the bus barn resembled a clown convention.
“We got a pretty good laugh,” Theiss said. “It lifted her spirits.”
Harvey added: “I was cracking up. The laughter is my medicine. That is what keeps you going.”
But Harvey understands having breast cancer is a serious situation.
Late last year, after feeling some soreness than resembled a bruise in one of her breasts, Harvey had a mammogram that indicated possible cancer. That was followed by an ultrasound, MRI, and double biopsy. She remembers that her gynecologist Dr. Mark Day, from the Kettering Health Medical Group, called with the biopsy results.
That was unusual, she said.
“Knew something was bad wrong,” she said.
Then Dr. Day said the results were “triple negative” for breast cancer. Triple negative seemed like a positive diagnosis, she thought.
“It sounded like a good thing,” she said. “It’s not.”
She learned that triple negative means the breast cancer is estrogen receptor-negative, progesterone receptor-negative, and HER2-negative.
Her oncologist, Dr. Manisha Nanda from Kettering Health Cancer Center in Beavercreek, wanted to attack the aggressive cancer in Harvey’s right breast with “everything” she could before considering radical surgery, she told Harvey. She’s started chemotherapy on Jan. 19.
When Harvey learned about her diagnosis she was sitting in her truck after working in the cafeteria and preparing for her afternoon bus route.
Harvey was “devastated,” she said. “I lost it.”
Her co-workers realized Harvey was upset so they rushed to comfort her.
They haven’t left her side since.
Every third Thursday Harvey receives chemotherapy treatments in Beavercreek and bus drivers have signed up to transport her to the appointments and prepare her meals or take her out to dinner. The transportation department hosted a carry-in on Wednesday and there was enough food to feed half of Carlisle, Theiss said.
Harvey was given all the leftovers so she wouldn’t have to cook during the three-day Presidents’ Day weekend.
“We’re just looking out for her,” Theiss said. “She has our support and love.”
As Harvey talked about her breast cancer journey, she didn’t want to be the focus.
“This is not about me having breast cancer,” she insisted. “People every day are diagnosed with cancer. I want this to be about my co-workers, the school, the village. This place is awesome.”
Then she added: “It’s a family.”
And about her unwavering faith.
“There is a reason I have breast cancer,” she said. “I’m not saying God did this, but there is a reason. Something good will come out of it. There is no reason for me to be sad.”
On those dark days, all she has to remember are those co-workers and their colorful wigs.
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