Yesterday marks the one-year anniversary
of my Triple Negative Breast Cancer diagnosis. This past year has slipped by
quickly, my life changed in unforeseen ways. July 2011: I was finishing my undergraduate
schooling, caring for six teenagers- four of them foster youth, living in the
Houston, Texas area, had been accepted to the University of Houston’s Graduate
School of Social Work, was working on a foster youth pilot program with an
offer to take the helm as director… things were final coming together, or so I
thought.
One year ago, my life took an
unexpected turn when I received the news that I had breast cancer; this was
only the beginning of what was to come. Although devastate, I thought to
myself, no problem … I have this cancer, it does not have me. A week later, I received
the results of my biopsy and learned the true magnitude of my condition. Triple
Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC). My first thought was, awesome … negative surely
poses a positive meaning. Um, not so much. I immediately went into research mode;
I wanted to learn all that I could about TNBC. Reality settled in; western
medicine fails to successfully treat TNBC and to that end, most women lose
their lives within 5-years of diagnosis.
Much of this last year is a blur.
I underwent surgery, two rounds of chemotherapy, and quickly called it quits. There
was simply no way I was going to continue to poison my entire body when the outcome
was less than favorable. I turned to alternative treatments, mainly Ayurveda. I
have yet to reflect and reread my blog postings over this past year; following
this post, I plan to have the entire blog printed into book form. My mind still
does not work the way it used to and many memories seem to be a blur. It is
strange actually, but in a good way. For example, I have reconnected with
several childhood friends. Many of us have picked-up where we left off, or so
it feels as such. Several other childhood acquaintances have reentered my life
in pleasantly unexpected ways. It has been an amazing experience, on many differing
levels.
In the weeks leading up to the
anniversary of my diagnosis, I have felt a bit out of sorts. Today, I look
healthy and I am working part-time. The people around me respond markedly
different from a year ago or even five months ago. When I looked sick, society in
general treated me with gentleness and kindness. I was the recipient of endless
encouraging letters, voicemails, emails, texts, and postings. It felt so comforting
to be surrounded by many as I felt the love of nearly all those around me, friends,
and foes alike. Today, things are much different. The notes, emails, texts,
voicemails, and postings trickle in. Society does not go out of their way to
say hello, offer to assist, or open a door.
It is different. I miss being the recipient of unfettered kindness. I
used to joke with my friends that it is difficult to be mean to a “cancer
person”!
I believe that we are exposed to
situations while on this earth because there are lessons that we must learn.
The lesson that presents first upon reflection is be careful what you wish for!
Often I have remarked that I wish I had curly hair, it would be fantastic. Well,
I am here to warn, be careful what you wish for. I do have curly hair now …
after being diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and undergoing two rounds of
chemotherapy! What a way for a wish to
come true … ugh. Lessons to be learned, I have learned many lessons since my
diagnosis and have grown, as a person far beyond what I thought was possible. Although
I may still stumble a bit as I fail to live up to the person I want to be, I am
aware of these missteps and am willing to make adjustments.
Remaining my authentic self
despite the environment that surrounds me, this is paramount for my
self-development. I am keen on the truth, understanding that the truth of one
may not necessarily be the truth for all. We each experience life through
amazingly different filters; it therefor makes sense that ones’ sense of
reality may differ greatly from one’s counterpart. I am reminded of this often,
especially in the arena I work within. I recently shared my ideology with a concerned
parent. It is imperative that we listen to the words being spoken by others. It
is not necessarily a matter of what is true or not true, what is important is
to understand how an individual sees and experiences the world around them, how
a particular situation made them feel. It is wise to understand how others
experience life. It is at this juncture that we may begin to offer empathy and
get at the causation of the thought patterns of others. In other words, meet
people where they are at and begin walking alongside them; this is where
understanding and compassion begins.
Truth has always been big on my
list. I would rather hear the truth than for someone to tell me what he or she believes
I want to hear. This notion took my physicians by surprise following my
diagnosis. I really did want to hear the truth, as grim as it was it was important
for me to know what I was working with. The same is true in my life. I do not
much fancy dishonesty but do understand differing perspectives and filters. I
choose to surround myself with people that are honest and trustworthy. At
times, truth may be challenging to reveal, nonetheless, it usually will reveal
itself whether you want it to come out or not.
Truth; the truth about my diagnosis is that most women die within five
years of diagnosis whether they undergo western medical interventions or do
nothing. Well, this is not good news at all. I had the opportunity to meet a
courageous young woman, Carrie D., who was diagnosed with TNBC one week after I
was. Carrie D. followed the treatment recommendations of her physicians and after
nine months of battling TNBC, she lost her life. This was a tragic loss. Truth,
her death unsettled me as it was another woman who will be added to the
statistic of lives lost within five years of diagnosis. I do not want to be a
part of this statistic; it is hard to fathom not being here on earth in the
next four years. Very humbling for sure.
Reflections: My memories are not
in tact; for example, I do not clearly remember driving from Texas to Oregon in
October and I was driving! I sometimes do not remember when I last talked with
my friends. When I do have a memory, it seems to be a random one that catches
me off guard. I do a great deal of living in the moment, for sometimes that is
all I have. I live authentically which allows me to connect with those around
me and offer guidance when asked or required. I become frustrated at times, because
I do not remember … this is my dirty little secret that now everyone will know.
I love when I hear or read about the fond memories people have of me, especially
childhood memories. I am often brought to joyful tears. Although I may not
recall the particulars, I can say … Yep, that sounds like something I would
have done or said.
Life today is much different and
chronically unknown from a year ago. A
year ago, I felt as though I was on the cusp of great things and there has been
a loss for sure. What I have today is an even grander understanding of myself,
which is allowing me to be a better servant to those around me. I have walked
and am walking an unknown journey; I believe I am doing this with authenticity.
My accumulative life experiences are allowing me to make a difference in the lives
of the populations I serve and those around me. This comes full-circle and
reflects back onto me, this is where I feel love and support. Do I fear the
future, sometimes. However, more often, I look forward to the beauty that
surrounds me; I have more work to do.
My mind is strong.
My mind is telling my body to heal
itself.
My body is healing itself.
My mind is strong.
My body is healthy.
My soul is at peace.
Today I am hopeful~
