What does breast cancer look like? Is it the hazy form you see on your mammogram when a tumor is present? Is it the jagged, angry-looking blob that I saw on my ultrasound months before I was even given a diagnosis? Is it that hard lump that I had never felt until my ob/gyn pointed it out to me? Is it the women you see wearing their pink t-shirts and matching boas marching down the streets of America on any given Saturday in the month of October? Is it the nearly four year survivor dancing with her one year old thinking how there was a time she never believed this would be in her future? What does the face of breast cancer look like? Could it just be the face you see staring back at you when you look in the mirror? For me and for 1 in 8 women it is all of those things and more.
Even though the likelihood is that we or someone we know will be diagnosed with breast cancer in our lifetime, it is a major shock when it happens to you because I think no one really believes it will happen to her. I had just turned 35 when I received my diagnosis and even after all of this time I don’t think I can really put into words how I felt when I heard the doctor say the word carcinoma.
I do remember the entire thing like it was yesterday but it seems more like a scene out of a movie rather than my life. What followed in the hours, days, and months after I heard the doctor tell me that I had breast cancer changed the course of my life in ways that prior to hearing those words I could not have even imagined. Within days I had cried more tears than I ever thought imaginable, broke the hearts of all of my family members and close friends, and made decisions that no one should ever really have to make. When I looked in the mirror, when I closed my eyes at night, and when I opened them in the morning all I saw was the face of breast cancer staring back at me.
Initially, the enormity of having cancer was completely overwhelming and there were times where I really could not fathom how I was going to handle all that I suddenly had on my plate. There were doctor appointments after doctor appointments. I had so many decisions to make and so much research to do to educate myself so that I could make those decisions. I still had my everyday “normal” life to attend to as well. I had a four year old daughter who needed me to be the same doting mommy I had been before I had been told I had cancer. The problem was that at times all I wanted to do was crawl in bed, go to sleep and wake up from the nightmare that had become my life. What is amazing to me is that the human mind can handle and adapt to so much more than you’d think. It really is true that we are stronger than we believe.
Within a week or so, I had all the info back from my follow up appointments, had done my research and had made my decision to have a bilateral mastectomy. Within days of making those decisions I made one more life changing decision. I decided that I would do everything in my power to make the best of the situation. What was odd about that is I wouldn’t actually say that is my normal tendency. I am generally a realist, a devil’s advocate, an analyzer. I don’t wake up happy and raring to go. I want my coffee before I talk to anyone. I will tell you if something is getting on my nerves...and lots of things do. I can be grouchy – just ask the people who have ever lived with me. I can be lots of fun and a wonderful friend but you would not describe me as a "Yay, Yay, Rah, Rah" type of girl. Well, cancer entered my life and that changed, probably for a whole host of reasons but primarily for one very selfish reason. I don’t enjoy feeling like crap. I began to accept that this actually was my life and that in order to get through all I had in front of me I was going to have to put my happy face on and make the best of things. Basically I was going to put my big girl panties on and just deal with it. I was going to use my energy to focus on all the good in my life and get better. Looking back I think I might have been going just a little bit crazy!! The craziest thing of all though is that it worked. That decision changed the face of breast cancer for me and really changed my life.
Accepting my situation and choosing to deal with it in a positive way does not mean that the face of breast cancer did not still look ugly at times. The reality is that it is a horrible disease even if you survive it. There are so many issues that you grapple with. The main one for me was, and continues to be, fear. Cancer has real power to me now that, if I allowed it, could paralyze me with fear. I work hard to keep the fear in check. Most of the time I am successful, sometimes I’m not. The fear has changed as time has gone on. I recall being in the thick of it when I could not go a few minutes without thinking about cancer, wondering if there would ever come a time for me when cancer did not pervade my thoughts. I hoped so, but I didn’t really think that would be possible. It is. I now go days sometimes without thinking about cancer and when I think about it again I am always surprised that I have been able to kind of forget it for a while. I have a lot less fears now than I did in the beginning but the main things I fear now – the biggies - are pretty much the things I feared from the get go. I fear a recurrence and I fear getting sick and dying from cancer.
That’s the thing with breast cancer. It has so many faces. It conjures up so much. Does a breast cancer diagnosis mean death? That’s what I thought when I heard those words spoken to me. With time and education, however, I realized that it doesn’t always mean that. Yet again, for some it does. One of my best childhood friends was diagnosed the year after I was and passed away this February at the age of 37 after a valiant fight leaving behind two beautiful boys. This came on the heels of another close friend losing her six year battle with ovarian cancer at the age of 39 leaving behind a son and daughter. I struggle to make sense of these losses and I think I feel them so acutely because I know their fate could have been mine had it not been for the early detection of my cancer. It feels like Russian roulette at times and I grapple with tremendous survivor’s guilt. Cancer, it seems, is the gift that keeps on giving. You think you have dealt with it and reached a point of acceptance and then something will happen and it opens a whole new can of worms. I guess that’s also the thing with life. What I’ve learned is that it is okay to struggle with things.
So is that the takeaway – cancer is a gift if you choose to see it that way? For some, maybe and that’s okay. I’m not there. I don’t think I will ever be one of the people that can say I consider cancer a gift because the truth is that I wish it had never happened to me and my family. I can look at my life however and say that I am wiser because of all of my experiences including cancer and that there is good to take away from everything life hands you if you are willing to look for it. I have found that several of my friends have turned to me when life has become too difficult - when they have felt a lump, had their mother receive a breast cancer diagnosis or had some other major life situation to deal with. They know I have been through it and I can help them get through it. I am also the one reminding all of my girlfriends to do their self exams and get their mammograms. I am proof that it can happen to anyone and I am also proof that, if found early enough, you can go on and live a very full life. I have even been able to have a baby after all of this!
For me the takeaway is something I probably knew all along - I need to live my best life. I would have never made it through breast cancer without the tremendous support of my friends and family. I had family members taking weekly shifts to fly in from around the country and take care of my family for months on end throughout all of my surgeries. I had a group of friends from college – some of which I had not spoken to in years (this was pre-Facebook mind you!) come together to form a group that inundated me with gifts, cards, flowers, chocolates, books, stuff for my daughter, etc. on a weekly basis for months. This made me feel loved beyond belief at a time where there were days where my self-esteem was really in the gutter. Having both boobs lobbed off can really make you feel pretty unlovable. Those packages from them told me that I am lovable – that I mean something. I had the girls from my bible study calling to pray with me, bringing my daughter things to keep her occupied while I recovered – showering me with love. I had meals upon meals brought to my family by friends from school and church. All of those things sustained us. In retrospect, I have come to realize that all of those things symbolized that I was already living my best life. God had put wonderful people in my path and I had chosen to make them part of my life.
Today, for me, living my best life is just more of a conscious decision.
Tammy spends her time keeping up with the busy schedules of her two beautiful daughters – Madison (8 years old) and Reagan (16 months old). Add to that three wild dogs and a traveling husband and life is very full. She loves cooking, baking and throwing a party and has been told many times over the years that she should do it for a living. Maybe one of these days….
