Both Sides.

I remember the day well: my head went down on my surgeon’s desk when he told me that I had breast cancer on both sides. It was just days earlier that the devastating news that I had invasive cancer on one side had stopped me in the middle of my office.  He was my colleague, this was all wrong!  It was like a nightmare, yet his sincerity made it real. My world was reeling out of control and yet a part of me functioned like I was running an emergency, knowing what I had to do to survive. 

I was trained in medical school to handle trauma situations, resuscitate, counsel people through grief and yet nothing could prepare me for the anxiety of cancer. I used the same techniques I taught my patients to help me to stay positive in my hardest times, but chemo is sickening and exhausting. The many surgeries I went through, including the five-hour bilateral mastectomies, bilateral reconstructions, bilateral node sampling, axillary dissection, shocking genetic testing and further hysterectomy took me to a place that no book could have ever prepared me for.

As treatment ended, there was exhaustion and terrible memory problems that were not obvious. I was quite afraid that I would no longer be able to think quickly enough to do my high-paced job, which was quite terrifying as I watched myself function so poorly. There was no reference for me – no similar situation to let me know that this was temporary. With tremendous support from colleagues I returned to work but the thinking pace gave me headaches and exhaustion for weeks. I brought the positive attitude I had learned from my journey to inspire many patients and colleagues that had given me so much support; they believed that I could make the journey and come back even bigger, and now I am moving them to realize what we can overcome. 

Throughout my cancer journey I found therapy in art and writing. I like to share my thoughts since they encourage people to see good things around them that we sometimes don’t see until something like cancer makes us appreciate everything you have. Living in the present is a way of managing the immense anxiety of the unknown and the painfully long journey of treatment. This poem is called Time.  We can all learn from it:

Time is assumed to always be there

A schedule so full there was nothing to spare

School and work, activities and more

There were people I didn’t leave time for

Then came the news and time stood still

It all felt surreal – how could I be so ill?

One step at a time, I lived day to day 

Friends were there daily to help on my way

Neglected priority for friends I then found

And realized their importance so turned it around

Now balance is crucial in moving along

No excuses to visit before it’s all gone 

You only have one life so treasure those dear

Don’t wait for cancer to make this all clear.