I’m a breast cancer survivor

In 2011, I was diagnosed with Stage III invasive lobular breast cancer. If you have been diagnosed yourself, or have a loved one who has been diagnosed, you understand how the words “You have cancer” turn your world upside-down. You wonder is it a death sentence, just a bump in the road… or will it turn into lots of bumps for the rest of your life. Some days you are plagued with morbid thoughts, with worry, and a paralyzed mindset. Other days are just days filled with your new normal; doctors appointments, scans, treatments, sleeping, recovering, and remembering to eat. There are moments that you forget that you have cancer like when someone makes you laugh, or when you have a meaningful conversation about anything non-related to your diagnosis. You wonder if there will ever be a day when you wake up and don’t think of cancer.

I underwent a double mastectomy with expanders, chemotherapy, radiation and a year later, reconstruction. Every time I looked in the mirror at a bald head, an eye-lash-less and eyebrow-less pasty white face, or awkward rock hard expanders, I felt a slight sinking feeling and the physical and emotional exhaustion of trying to hold it all together. It was a daily reminder that it wasn’t over. And even a year later, after my reconstruction, after my discharge from frequent follow ups with my oncologist, when treatments were over, it still really wasn’t as over as I thought it should be.

As a “Survivor”, “Thriver”, or “Ass-kicker of cancer” those evil “WHAT IF’S” haunt us. It happened once… it could happen again, right? I suppose. I could also be hit by a person texting and driving tonight on my way to yoga, but I don’t think about the odds of that happening. What I DO know is that I wish I had known then what I know now about releasing thoughts and beliefs that don’t serve me. I wish I had known how to identify the shadow aspects of myself and how to heal and love my WHOLE self (scars, crooked reconstructed boobs and all!) so that that fear could dissipate and be replaced with hope and light.

Although I’ve been the breast cancer patient and understand what goes with it, everyone’s journey is different yet we all overlap on many of the same realities. Being able to let go of that fear has been monumental for me. And who doesn’t want that to be empowered and embrace the freedom that results?