Meet Destiny

My story begins in August 2024. Like so many women, I wanted to feel healthier in my own body, so I started taking compounded semaglutide. I was drawn to it because I was told it was FDA-approved and that it included B12, which would help with side effects. I took five injections in the same spot on my right side every time.

By the end of September, I began noticing a pain in my right breast. At first, I told myself I had bruised it, or maybe one of my boys had accidentally elbowed me while we were watching TV. But then a lump formed — and I knew something was wrong.

I went to my primary care doctor, and she told me I had an abscess that needed to be drained. I asked if she could do it right there, but she said it needed to be biopsied first to be safe. I then scheduled an appointment with a mammography center here in Houston. I had an initial scan and mammogram. By this time, the lump was large and very warm to the touch.

The radiologist who read my scan told me I might have IBC — inflammatory breast cancer — but they needed a biopsy to be sure. I had never been more terrified in my life. I could not stop crying. How could I have cancer? What about my boys?

I scheduled a biopsy shortly after and was relieved to learn I did not have cancer. Instead, I was diagnosed with granulomatous mastitis. I was confused — I had never heard of it — but so grateful it was not cancer.

From there, I started treatment with Texas Oncology in Sugar Land, Texas. I had an incredible doctor, and she and I worked together every step of the way. But even she had no exact playbook for treating this disease. There was so little information available, and I was in pain. I had been an athlete my whole life, but the pain made working out impossible. I had to cancel my gym membership.

I was placed on doxycycline and did six rounds. Then we moved to steroid shots directly into my breast. The pain and frustration were overwhelming.

By December 2024, my doctor told me that when she spoke with the technician who had performed my original biopsy, he indicated I may have been misdiagnosed with GM. Based on that, she believed I did not have it and ordered emergency surgery for what she thought was a bad staph infection. She cleaned everything out and took larger tissue samples to be absolutely certain. This time, with a bigger piece of breast tissue, she could say with full confidence that I did have GM — a specific type called cystic neutrophilic granulomatous mastitis.

I truly believe I developed this disease from those injections back in August, and that somehow bacteria formed at the site.

The next step recommended to me was methotrexate. I even had the prescription filled at the pharmacy, but when I read the warnings on the label, my family and I decided it was not the right path for me.

So what next? My older brother — and I will always be grateful to him — introduced me to a natural approach to healing. At that point, I was open to anything. The pain was unbearable, and I was developing abscesses regularly, especially during my menstrual cycle.

He showed me Dr. Morse's Handcrafted Botanical Formulas and helped me schedule a consultation with the company's health team. They gathered detailed information and built a plan specifically designed to treat the disease. I was also required to make a major diet change — strictly fruits and vegetables, but as much as I wanted. The program was twelve weeks and laid out exactly what I needed to do.

I started in January 2025. By April, I had stopped having abscesses entirely and was healing. My doctor was so amazed that she moved my appointments from monthly to every three months. By July 2025, I was declared in remission.

After the twelve weeks, I gradually went back to eating the foods I enjoy. The detox plan was hard to maintain forever, but it gave my body the reset it needed.

As of today, I am still in remission. I never developed GM in my other breast. My wounds have healed, but my scars remain — a permanent reminder to never give up.

If you are reading this after receiving a diagnosis, please know there is hope. You are stronger than you realize. You are not alone. And healing is possible.

— Destiny Barry