400,000 Gone, I Am Still Here: Marking 10 Years
Today I am grateful for the family time enjoyed over the weekend, working air conditioning, and the opportunities that each day presents us to embrace life fully.
Ten years ago today I received the news that the biopsy I had two days prior did indeed test positive for cancer. Two kinds of cancer; ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) and infiltrating ductal carcinoma (IDC). Three surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo, and 8 years on Tamoxifen created plenty of physical and emotional damages and challenges.
But I am still here. Physically active and satisfied as I near age 53. Emotionally stable for the most part. Mentally not paralyzed by fear, and somewhat spiritually fit, in large part because of the work I do for ongoing recovery from alcoholism and gratitude practice before, during, and after cancer came along.
This is a picture of the words I scrawled in my journal early the next morning, my first morning as someone with cancer:
It is hard to fully return to that place filled with deep fear and plenty of unknowns and uncertainty. The waiting had been hard up to that point, and it got much harder. Especially awaiting my first surgery and the pathology reports and scan results that happened over the next months and year or two.
It is easier to look back, ten years later, NED. No evidence of disease. In the ten years since my diagnosis 400,000 women and men in the U.S. alone have died of metastatic breast cancer (MBC). I think about the devastation and grief and the wonderful lives cut short.
Now my sister Mary Jo faces MBC, diagnosed over 11 years after her initial early-stage diagnosis.
I am afraid for her, afraid for so many others. And yes, some fear always lurks for myself as well.
So I return to all I have, refusing to let the fear take it. All I have is today. It is all any of us have. Healthy choices can help us enjoy the time we get, but they don't guarantee anything. There are no guarantees. There is only today. This moment. Living gratefully.
Cancer has taken plenty from me, especially in the months immediately following my diagnosis, but also in the years since. It has taken plenty from my family, and from many other people I care about.
It is a defining event in my life though, and it has helped crystallize my priorities and my passions.
I believe I was living life fully prior to my diagnosis. I believe I am living life fully today. Perhaps embracing it a little tighter in the last ten years.
Ten years ago today I received the news that the biopsy I had two days prior did indeed test positive for cancer. Two kinds of cancer; ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) and infiltrating ductal carcinoma (IDC). Three surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo, and 8 years on Tamoxifen created plenty of physical and emotional damages and challenges.
But I am still here. Physically active and satisfied as I near age 53. Emotionally stable for the most part. Mentally not paralyzed by fear, and somewhat spiritually fit, in large part because of the work I do for ongoing recovery from alcoholism and gratitude practice before, during, and after cancer came along.
This is a picture of the words I scrawled in my journal early the next morning, my first morning as someone with cancer:
It is easier to look back, ten years later, NED. No evidence of disease. In the ten years since my diagnosis 400,000 women and men in the U.S. alone have died of metastatic breast cancer (MBC). I think about the devastation and grief and the wonderful lives cut short.
Now my sister Mary Jo faces MBC, diagnosed over 11 years after her initial early-stage diagnosis.
I am afraid for her, afraid for so many others. And yes, some fear always lurks for myself as well.
So I return to all I have, refusing to let the fear take it. All I have is today. It is all any of us have. Healthy choices can help us enjoy the time we get, but they don't guarantee anything. There are no guarantees. There is only today. This moment. Living gratefully.
Cancer has taken plenty from me, especially in the months immediately following my diagnosis, but also in the years since. It has taken plenty from my family, and from many other people I care about.
It is a defining event in my life though, and it has helped crystallize my priorities and my passions.
I believe I was living life fully prior to my diagnosis. I believe I am living life fully today. Perhaps embracing it a little tighter in the last ten years.
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