Three years ago, on September 8, 2012 to be exact, I received those words that no one ever wishes to hear. After a week of doctor appointments, testing, a biopsy and multiple mammograms, my family and I decided to go camping to take a break for the weekend. It was a Saturday, and my doctor had called my cell phone multiple times. I thought that either meant she wanted to give me good news so I could enjoy the rest of my weekend, or that the news was so bad she didn't want me to wait. I avoided her calls all day. That night I slipped away from camp to call the doctor back. I had my daughter, then 11, with me. She had no idea that I had any of this going on, but the intuition of children astounds me. When the doctor uttered those words "It is cancer" I started to cry. Once I hung up the phone my daughter asked "What's wrong mommy? What is it? Is it cancer?" All of this coming from a child that had no foundation to base her comment.
We couldn't believe this news. I was 39, had always been in good health, and I worked out on a regular basis. How can someone that looks and feels so good have cancer?!?
I underwent a bi-lateral mastectomy in October, followed by 6 rounds of chemo the beginning of 2013 and 25 rounds of radiation. Altogether I have had a total of 5 surgeries. I worked full-time through it all, only taking off about a month for the mastectomy surgery.
There is so much to navigate when you have a cancer diagnosis that you are never able to just acknowledge what is happening, or worse yet, what it could all mean. There are tons of choices to be made, doctors to locate, and soon everyone in your city will have seen you naked. LOL The process is reeling! Anyone that hasn't been through it can ever fathom the feeling of walking into an infusion room, loosing your hair in the shower, having to face your peers bald, or being sealed away in a room under a machine that you know puts out toxicity at levels that can kill a person. That is obvious when the radiology technician closes a door between you and them that is 2-feet wide, sealing you in isolation and talking to you through a microphone.
The end of treatment doesn't lessen the load of this diagnosis either. There are endless doctor appointments, the navigation of health and diet going forward, which includes what supplements one should take and what needs to be avoided. The information of do's and don'ts coming at you everyday is overwhelming.
I was very fortunate to have a strong support system of friends, my husband and two daughters. My best friend went as far as to shave her head the day I started loosing my hair, and also took me to all of my chemo appointments so I wouldn't be alone. My husband is, and always has been, my rock. I also found a strong group of fantastic women on Breastcancer.org, and we have bonded and formed relationships that no one on the outside will ever understand. These are my "Bella's" and will forever be a foundation in my life.
Cancer was a speed bump in my life.
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