In the last few hours of 2019, I received a call from my doctor’s office, telling me I had an upcoming appointment with a surgeon. Two weeks before that, I’d had a biopsy, so I suspected that this was a follow-up and that the news was not good. “So,” I said, “Does that mean it’s cancer?” Without preamble or prettying it up, I was told, yes, it’s cancer.
Well, Happy New Year! Now take a deep breath. And another….
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I am talking to the surgical oncologist. It’s breast cancer – caught early thanks to regular screening – small (about 1 cm), not an aggressive form, but still in need of attention and treatment. A few more screening tests, a consultation or two, and surgery will be in my near future. (Keep in mind I’m writing this mid-January. By the time you read this, I may have had my surgery or be having it soon.)
Despite incredible advances in detection and treatment, “the C word” is still scary when you hear it in relationship to what’s going on in your own body or the body of someone you love. Many of you have personal experience with this. I can assure you I went through a gamut of emotions, from denial to shock to anger to relief. I’ve come to a place of gratitude for an early diagnosis, a sense of resolve for going through the steps of the recommended treatment, and a normal level of concern for the future and what will be happening to me.
I am grateful for a support network of friends and Carl, who have already stepped in to keep me centered, optimistic, and laughing.
What can you do? I’d appreciate your prayers for healing. I don’t want every conversation to be about cancer – there is so much more to life! I know you may be concerned, so I want to assure you that, as it is available and appropriate, I will provide clear updates on my progress, my office schedule, and when I am available for you. Since it is early days at this point, I don’t have specifics yet. Beyond your caring thoughts and prayers, we don’t need any other practical assistance, at this point. If we do, we’ll let you know. Of course, I’m hoping that this will have as little impact on my “life” as possible!
But, of course, it is my life. I certainly wasn’t looking to learn about cancer and treatment, but here I am. While there may be many choices about how to deal with being a “cancer patient,” I’m choosing to be engaged, involved, and present for what’s going on, a step at a time. One part of my mind is curious – how does this work? What is that about? How will my body respond? I want to choose curiosity over fear. Another part of my mind needs to learn how to accept this new reality and incorporate it into my being, then move on (hopefully) to another way of being when the cancer has been successfully treated. Waiting for the next thing to happen is a lesson in living with ambiguity, with not knowing the answers and not feeling in control. So, I ask myself: What lessons can I learn from this experience? How can this help me be a more compassionate person? What, if anything, must change in my life? Or, what might I choose to change?
Every experience in life is a possibility – a door opening on new places where we’ve never been before. There are people we meet, challenges we face, pain we endure, opportunities we have, things we do that become uniquely ours, and uniquely ours to choose our actions and reactions. We can be angry – “why me?” Indeed, why NOT me? I’m no more exempt from life’s realities than anyone else. And, I will keep my eye on the positives – I have treatment available, there’s every good chance this will be completely addressed very soon, I have support and people who love me. What more can I ask!?!
Love and light,
Victoria