Voices of San Diego Beer: Angela Nguyen, Fall Brewing

Many are drawn into the brewing industry by the sense of family and support that permeates and goes well beyond the production and service of ales and lagers. Count Angela Nguyen as part of that faction. She has worked at North Park’s Fall Brewing for three years and regards her colleagues as far more than just co-workers. And the Fall crew feels the same, as evidenced by the way they—and their customers—are rallying around Angela following a recent breast-cancer diagnosis and mastectomy.

“Angela is a beloved member of our team. Her energy and positivity are always on tap, and she is an amazing painter, illustrator, photography subject and fashionista,” says Fall Sales Manager Larry Monasakanian. “Her talent and originality are apparent as soon as you lay eyes on her, and even more so after you have a two-minute conversation with her. Her attitude is undeniable, and so is her sweet-hearted nature and joie de vivre.”

Earlier this month, Fall debuted Tough Luck, a pomegranate kettle sour brewed in Angela’s honor, which is for sale exclusively at the brewery’s tasting room (4542 30th Street in North Park) along with special t-shirts. Additionally, some of Nguyen’s art prints are on display and for sale in the tasting room. While proceeds from sale of the prints will benefit, Angela, for her and Fall, it’s more about raising awareness in hopes of increasing the odds of other women getting early breast-cancer diagnoses so they stand a better chance of surviving, recovering and thriving beyond the disease.

We invited Angela to share her story via our Voices of San Diego Beer series of guest pieces. The following is her frank, revealing contribution delivered with emotion, purpose and an undeniable sense of resilience.

Angela’s story

In late-February or early-March, I noticed a very small amount of discharge coming out of my left nipple. It was clear. It looked like water, was odorless and was only a few drops every time I noticed it. Google told me to see a doctor, so when it was still happening a week later, I called the doctor’s office and went in for an exam. Long story short, they did some scans, I had a biopsy and, welp, it was cancer. I received my initial diagnosis in April. I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma (IDC), which is the most common type of breast cancer.

I never felt a lump or had any symptoms other than the discharge. I have no family history of cancer, in general, and don’t carry any of the genes that predispose women to breast cancer, so it truly feels like a spontaneous occurrence. I joke that I’m just that special. I learned in this time there are a bunch of different kinds of breast cancers and so many differences even among those types. It honestly feels like too much information to understand without being a medical professional. On that note, I’m going to bring up a lot of terms and I barely understand them, so bear with me.

So, my IDC is a triple positive (one of the subsets) and technically still stage one, which is based on the size of my tumor and the cancerous cells they found. But I did have extensive amounts of what they call DCIS. It’s also referred to as non-invasive cancer, stage zero or precancerous tissue, and from what I understand, it is cells that are not cancer but have been compromised and basically, eventually will become cancer, so we had to remove all of that. My DCIS wasn’t visible during MRIs or any other imaging we did, so when my treatment started they thought we could tackle this by taking my tumor out in a lumpectomy, also knows as a partial mastectomy that would allow me to conserve most of my breast. Unfortunately, because of this unseen DCIS, my lumpectomy came back with positive margins and they decided to try two more times to take a little more tissue out while still conserving my breast. But then we were left with no options other than a mastectomy. So, I had a single mastectomy and five lymph nodes in my armpit were removed for dissection to see how far my cancer had spread. I have a hard plastic expander in my chest now that we’re slowly filling to eventually do my breast reconstruction. There are a lot of complicated reasons why I chose a single mastectomy versus a double, but it’s mostly just a very personal decision.

Anyway, cancer blows. I haven’t been able to work even when I’m feeling “normal” because of the pandemic. I can’t risk getting sick during active treatment. It would affect the timeliness of my surgeries, and I start chemotherapy a week from today, at which point I’ll be immunocompromised. Shortly after my four-and-a-half months of chemo, I’ll start radiation therapy and will continue to be on different hormone-restriction drugs for the next five-to-ten years. And somewhere in there, I will be working on the two or three surgeries it will take to reconstruct my new breast. On top of all of this, because of COVID-19, I have had to go to just about every single appointment and surgery by myself. This includes my six-hour sessions in the chemo chair.

So that’s my story right now. I hope to find a new normal soon. It’s hard to believe this is the rest of my life, but I know I’ll make the most of it somehow.”

Angela Nguyen, Fall Brewing

Listen to, love and advocate for yourself and your rights

Early-stage breast cancers are highly treatable and still curable if they’re found early enough, so I’m grateful to have found my cancer now instead of holding off on my health and having received much worse news. Breast cancer can look or feel like so many different things beyond just a lump. Everyone should get in touch with their bodies and pay attention so they know when something isn’t normal. Also, it’s super-important to be your own health advocates, because, unfortunately, sometimes even doctors get it wrong or dismiss concerns. There’s no reason to wait on something that feels wrong. Trust your gut ad get multiple opinions if you need to. Nothing Is more important than your health. Do self-examinations, go to therapy, get your regular physicals, wear sunscreen, love yourself.

Bigger picture: Quality healthcare should be accessible to all. It’s a travesty to watch people die from treatable and curable diseases because they can’t afford the care. I’ve had health insurance the past few years only because I’ve been able to sign up through the Affordable Care Act, and if I had to go through all of this treatment knowing the out-of-pocket costs were stacking up, I might die from the stress. Support, advocate and hold accountable the people in positions of power who support healthcare as a human right.

The silver lining

2020 has been a wild year for everyone, especially in the service industry. I haven’t been able to be a physical part of Fall because of my diagnosis, but I am incredibly happy to watch them make it work and keep chugging through all of the obstacles. Prior to the lockdown, I had already confirmed a second art show month at Fall for this year and was very excited about it. I had my first-ever solo art show there last August and it was a tremendous experience. Fast forward and we all know how everything went down this year—all events were halted. Fall still asked me if I wanted to design a beer label a couple of months ago and I couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.

I started working at Fall in September of 2017 and being a part of the company has been such a pleasure. Our team is so small, relatively, and it just feels like my family. Their support as my coworkers—and as my friends and loved ones—is honestly more than anyone could ask for. On top of that, to watch the outpouring of kindness from patrons is just unreal. That’s been this blinding silver lining through navigating a cancer diagnosis as a 29-year-old in 2020. Despite fighting cancer in a global pandemic, on top of the heart-crushing daily headlines, I somehow am so lucky that I feel more loved and supported than I have in my entire life. It’s an incredibly special and indescribable thing. I am constantly thinking of ways I can give back to let everyone know how grateful and consciously appreciative I feel.