In this second installment, Colleen reflects that recovering from breast cancer is a journey that goes on far longer than expected, however accepting help can actually be is a sign of strength.
As I shared in my May 2009 note (Step One: Finding Hope!) I was diagnosed with invasive breast cancer in April ’09, underwent a partial mastectomy & axillary node removal followed by an aggressive chemo and radiation treatment program which was finally completed as 2009 drew to a close. This prognosis was one which on every level I was ill-prepared for. I was shocked, saddened and as a single Mom, terrified at the prospect of my own mortality. I didn’t think “why me?” because c’mon lets face it – - why not me?!?! – - but the question of “why anyone?” is one which plagued me throughout (and to this day).
I was overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation and astounded that really for almost the first time in my life I was faced with a situation that I couldn’t logic, reason, negotiate or work-hard my way out of. I was again ill -prepared for just how hard the chemo would hit me. I couldn’t positive-think or will myself to feel better, no matter how very hard I tried. I felt out of control on every level and fear & fatigue permeated my very being.
I searched desperately for my inner hero – - that superwoman that everyone seemed to know who had gone through treatment while still successfully training for a marathon, but lo and behold my cape-wearing, marathon-training self never appeared. Instead, in her place I found a different kind of me – - a me I hadn’t known. One who sought to forgive herself for not being able to do it all – - or really, for months, do it at all. I fought to accept my sick and struggling self with the same kind of empathy and care I would without hesitation extend to others and struggled to recognize the assistance of loved ones not as a weakness but as gift to myself and to them, as they too had to deal with their own fears and feelings of helplessness.
This has been a journey I never would have chosen to go on and while I never did find my inner super hero and am frankly still learning the lessons of self acceptance as I deal with a slower recovery period than I had planned, I am getting there – - baby steps, but always moving in the right direction. Breast cancer has been MY marathon and I can see the finish line on the distant horizon! Now where did I put that cape…
Colleen,
Everything you have said is so true. To realize you are not superwoman, supermom, superfriend is a bit humbling and hard to accept, but I did myself a big favour when I did accept it and just let myself be ill, or tired or sick or whatever, and let myself have the time to heal. I was diagnosed in the fall of 2008 and am still not where I would like to be healthwise, but hope is a strong force. While I never want to go through this again, one day I will look back and be thankful for all the good things that came my way in this time of my life.
You go, girl! We can do it, one step at a time. We can learn strength through our weakness, so here’s our chance to shine….
Hugs from Montreal, Quebec,
Wendy Farha
Another “breast friend”
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I was diagnosed in 2008 and went through treatment most of 2009. I am still fatigued and chemo brain is the worst. It has only been now that I have allowed or rather acknowledged that its a process and it can’t get all better with a snap of the finger. here’s to feeling better when we’re ready!
Kathy from Ontario
Last summer I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, as far as we know I am the first in our family. That’s including Mother, Sisters, cousins Aunts Grandmothers, as far back as we can go. What a surprise, I always loved being the center of attention. Its been a long haul and as others know its an extraordinary inner battle. The above story has inspired me and given me hope today. Somedays the suspended animation of it all can be too much. Thanks for reminding me there is a finish line.
This was inspirational for me just because I too am dealing with not being “normal” yet. I was diagnosed in Feb. 2008 and spent the entire year in treatment from surgeries to chemo to radiation and a finally an ovarian ablation. I’m also dealing with side effects of taking Arimidex. But I’m working on accepting the “new normal” and part of that is letting go of my own expectations of where I should be at this point. Yes, my hair has grown back and apparently, I “look great”. It’s up to me to communicate to others that even if I’m looking good, I’m not the same person I used to be. We are super heroes because we survived treatments and we’re here to talk about it and be real.