So I’ve never really talked much about what it was like to
have cancer. I’m fighter, a leader, the
one who keeps it together and holds others in place when they need it. I’m still learning how to open up, be
vulnerable, and tell the truth about me in order to help somebody elses road
be a little easier.
But that’s why we go through difficult things in life, to
become better people and to help others avoid the mistakes that we made or at
least to show them how to get through tragedies quicker and with more dignity.
So I’m telling my story, tonight, during October which is
breast cancer awareness month in hopes…that you will have compassion for
someone who is going through something and you will reach out to offer
help. I hope that you will remember your
loved ones who passed away from illnesses and remember their light, their joy
and the good that they brought to the world…forgetting the sad times. I hope that you will take just 1 small step
to take better care of your health, while you thank God for the health you
have. And last..I hope that after
reading this, each woman will schedule a mammogram and go. It isn’t that scary really and it could save
your life. I know. It saved mine.
My mother had breast cancer when I was a child. It was more
than 20 years ago and there were not as many options in medicine or
technology. I saw her go through years
of pain, and I saw the effects of her treatment. I saw her lose her hair and
get a double mastectomy, but back them reconstruction just wasn’t common. So I
saw my mother struggle with how cancer changed her life.
But I also saw a mom who was funny and light and
playful. She let us build forts in the
house, run in the summer rain and she laughed all the time. She was my very best friend in the entire world,
as a teenager. She was my world. She was my mom. She went to hang out in Heaven when I was 16.
It took many years to be ok with holidays and birthdays and
life without her, but I got through it. It took time.
Fast forward decades. I had gotten over the scars of
watching someone you love die slowly and I thought of her often with smiles as
I remembered the joy of my childhood with her.
And then I went for a routine trip to the doctor for birth
control pills. I was 42 and it was time for my refill. I had been on them for
years. No big deal. I rushed in as I always do and the nurse practitioner said politely, I’m not going to fill this…until you get a mammogram. It’s been 5 years
and you have a family history. So when you get that done I will fill them for
you.
I remember being so mad at her. I thought about going to
another doctor just to get them because I didn’t have time, I was in a hurry, I
was already a few days late and this was a major inconvenience. I mean come on, she was someone I only saw
once a year and I had never had health problems before, so this was just an
annoyance. I thought she was being ridiculous.
But I scheduled a mammogram and I went.
And then that same nurse practitioner called me and said, I see something and it could be cancer. I remember feeling instant fear inside; my
head was a little fuzzy. I couldn’t believe what she said. I wanted answers.
What were my chances, what were my options, what was I supposed to do & how
much would all of this cost? She didn’t
have any. She invited me back to the
office to pick up a list of surgeons and I called the only 2 women on the
list. One didn’t answer my call and the
other had staff that answered immediately and seemed eager to help. They made me feel a little bit comfortable,
as much as I could be.
I didn’t tell my family, including my boyfriend of 8 years,
anything. I didn’t want them to worry if it was nothing. So I went to my
appointment alone. They did a biopsy,
where they take just a little tissue out of your breast while you are wide
awake on a table. There was a little anesthesia, I guess, but it sure wasn’t
comfortable. I felt worried but optimistic.
A few days later I got another call. It was the surgeon and
she wanted me to come in so she could discuss the results with me in person.
Now I was really scared. For the first
time in a long time all the memories of my childhood came crashing back in my
mind after I had worked so hard to let them go.
Would I end up like my mom? Would I have to go through everything she
went through? What if I died? I was only
42.
I had a talk with my boyfriend and told him that I had been
going to a few doctor’s appointments because after a routine check up they
weren’t sure if I had cancer, but they needed to see me. I asked him to come with me and he did. We went to the surgeon’s office and she told
me…you have cancer. I don’t remember everything she said after
that. I wanted to listen clearly, calmly,
so I could be aware of my options and not jump to conclusions before there were
any. I asked a couple questions and she
calmly explained that I had Phase 1 breast cancer and that there is actually a
stage 0. The good news was that they
caught it early. The other news was that I would have to have surgery and
probably radiation. They would know more after surgery.
Then the whirlwind started, mostly because I had to tell
people, at least those closest to me. I
told my brother and my sister and maybe one friend. I didn’t even tell our neighbors who have a
key to our house and walk our dog when we’re not home. I didn’t tell many
people because I didn’t want THEM to be sad or uncomfortable. Also I didn’t
know if I could keep it together for them if they asked too many
questions. So I quietly scheduled my
surgery, told my boss I would be out for 2 weeks along with the reason and then
proceeded to have about a million tests. OK, it wasn’t a million but when you
have cancer they want to know what they are working with, so they truly take
more tests than you can imagine. They test your bones, blood levels,
everything. I guess they do it to ensure the greatest chance of success for
you. What it meant was many trips to the
doctor, before the surgery and lots of days I had to leave work early with no
explanation for my other co-workers.
On the outside I was mostly calm. On the inside I was mostly
calm. I was learning to be an optimist and I was just believing that God would
take care of it. So I had the surgery.
I remember waking up and continually feeling like I was
going to pass back out and I think I did once or twice. It was out patient and they didn’t let me go
home for a long time, longer than normal because I wasn’t coming out of the
anesthesia quickly. I remember my boyfriend sitting next to me, holding my hand
and getting nurses when I felt like I might pass out. It was probably very
scary for him. He never said a word about how he felt, but I would be
scared. I could see the worry in his
face, but he just stayed calm, for me, I guess.
My surgery was over. I had finished the tests and it was
time to go home. I just slept for a few days. I hurt at night, but I just
stayed in bed and slept and it seemed to pass.
One of the things I will remember for my entire life is my boyfriend
washing my hair and giving me a bath after a few days. I didn’t have a nurse.
He was it. He was so gentle and soft, listening closely to my every request and
making sure to follow it so he didn’t hurt me.
That was a moment when I fell in love with him on a deeper level than
ever before. I could see his love and it was bigger than any flowers or words
could ever explain.
Over the next 2 weeks I rested and slowly healed. There were a couple very minor complications
but nothing big. When I went back to see
the surgeon, my boyfriend came too and we got good news. I was healing well.
The cancer appeared to be gone & they were predicting good results. I
wasn’t feeling much of anything inside. I was done with cancer…almost.
A few weeks later I learned that I had to go to radiation
therapy for 6 weeks. That meant every day, Monday through Friday I had to go to
a doctors office, go in a dimly lit room, lay on a table with my arm over my
head while a machine moved around me like an x-ray. The technicians couldn’t be
near the radiation that they were aiming directly into my body, so they left
the room and stood behind a glass window, watching, monitoring me to make sure
I was ok. They had a speaker so they
could talk to me, but mostly it was just soft music or quiet in the
background…and this is when the fear showed up again.
Each day when I lay down I had to stretch muscles that had
been cut, that hadn’t been used and that were fighting back when I tried to put
my arm over my head for 10 minutes or so. It wasn’t pain but it sure was
uncomfortable. When you feel pain and
you are alone in a dark room for just 10 minutes with nothing but your
thoughts….it is a scary thing. Like many
people I have probably spent a good part of my life racing around so I don’t
have to acknowledge feelings or slow down to see what’s really going on inside
me…now I had to do it everyday for 6 weeks.
I remember being on the table, praying, asking for God to
help me calm down and for some peace and I heard God’s reply.
Imagine an angel lying on top of you.
Close your eyes and see her laying on you, she is big and she is
absorbing all the negative rays of light, while you only receive the healing
part.
And then I heard…say these words…God I feel better than expected.
I feel better than expected. I feel better than expected. THANK YOU GOD that I
feel better than expected. Say them over and over, even if you don’t believe
it.
So that’s what I did. I found I didn’t really think about
having cancer much when I was out in the world…I only worried and feared when I
was forced to get quiet and face them head on, all alone…only I wasn’t alone.
God was there with me all the time & so was that angel.
I’m thankful. I hate
that I had to face those fears from my childhood at all. I mean, God, wouldn’t
it have been easier for me to see a movie on the topic instead of having to
live it? I thought so…but God wanted me
closer to Him, so I could really be healed of the new scars and the old hurts.
Yes, cancer did change me. It brought me closer to God. It
helped me stand up to my fears and I rarely fear cancer anymore. Why would I? I
had it. I had surgery. It’s gone now. And I know I have an angel who is there
to heal my body and my mind anytime I need it. I only need to see her, imagine
her, and thank God that any area I want to thank God for in advance is better
than expected. I have to continue to say that and I’m finding that things do
end up that way…better than expected.
The physical pain of cancer was not as great for me as it is
for many others. I didn’t go through
chemotherapy. I didn’t lose my breasts
or my hair. I didn’t struggle physically
for years. But I did face my fears. I
did stand face to face with something that COULD HAVE BEEN life threatening….and
I won.
I can’t find that nurse practitioner who forced me to get a
mammogram several years ago. But if she wouldn’t have…I may not have been here
today. So thank you medical
professionals…for saving our lives, and standing up to bossy girls who just
want to rush in and rush out. You are saving lives. You saved mine.
A mammogram is just a test. If it’s negative you go on with
your life. If it’s positive you take
steps to correct it and then go on with your life. Parts of it may be scary and
very unknown. I didn’t have perfect faith before and I don’t have it now…but
after going through what I went through I’m a better person because of it and
now I can help other women more deeply than before.
So it’s my prayer, as I reveal the truth about myself, that
you (men and women) would take steps to have better health. It is my prayer that you would get tested
regularly for things that you know you need to be tested for. And it is my prayer that everyone reading
this would be able to let go of old scars so you can look someone in the face
who is struggling and hold out your hand.
I am so lucky and blessed that I had a much easier road than
some. Whatever your situation…as someone who has had cancer, still has cancer
or if you just love someone with cancer….I love you. I feel you. I may
understand and know just a little about what you are going through. Because at
the end of the day you don’t have to have a life threatening disease to teach
you how to love, how to have more compassion or how to help others. At the end
of it all I learned that I gotta let people HELP ME sometimes and that it’s ok
not to keep it all together…so what if I lose it. I also got a chance to see love IN ACTION all
around me. What a gift…far beyond words…beyond time…beyond anything I could
have ever thought to ask for.
Life is good. Live it. Enjoy each day. Take care or
yourself. And have compassion for everyone around you. Give love people. Give
love.
(Last..My boyfriend is
now my husband. I am healed. And when I asked my doc how I was doing, he told
me that I am a model case and have had almost no side effects (because I healed better than expected.) Pray for everyone around you. We all need prayer (which is just love
noticing the need for action.)
Thanksgiving is always a good holiday, after all I get to
eat…and eat…and eat… things that I only get once a year. 
But this year is different. It feels different. As I look
back over this year and over the last several years I am seeing things to be
thankful for that I never noticed before. I'm reading a book called, I Am Malala, by the 14 year old Pakistani girl who was shot by the Taliban for
simply sharing her opinion that girls should have the right to go to school.
She is so enamored by little things like tap water INSIDE the house, running both hot & cold, and that in England
where she is now, you don’t have to use oil lamps. There is electricity in
every home. 
I'm also looking back over my life this year & seeing
amazing things that I only dreamt about that have come true. In February I felt
inspired to write a book. In Aug it was printed. 
So if you are spending Thanksgiving alone & perhaps
feeling kind of down...or if you are looking at family members who drive you
crazy & you just want to get home...or if you are somewhere in the middle…there
are so many things in your life to be thankful for.
And even though my first attempt at my sisters macaroni
& cheese was so bad that I'm giving it to the homeless (& hiding it from
my family to avoid ridicule)…I am still thankful. 
