Sheila at her first CIBC Run for the Cure shortly after her first round of chemotherapy.
It’s hard to believe that two years have already passed since my diagnosis of breast cancer in February 2010. I can recall so clearly sitting in the examining room with my daughter and sister. The diagnosis was invasive ductal carcinoma — stage two in the right breast and stage one in the left. At that moment, I felt as though I were in a fog. Some distant voice (presumably my own) responded, “take them both.”
On April 21, I underwent surgery for a double mastectomy, with a separate procedure in May to remove 11 lymph nodes from the right breast. Chemotherapy began in July and ended on Nov. 5. I was fortunate to survive the chemo triathlon relatively well. Fatigue was the “show stopper.” The medications provided helped keep the multitude of other side effects at a manageable level. Following chemo was radiation therapy on a daily basis for five weeks. This commenced in January and completed on Feb. 5. I had survived a life-altering event and I will never be the same as a result.
Oddly enough, the hardest part of the journey came at the end. All of the treatments and appointments were over. I was so focused on staying strong, it was as if I had existed “out of my body” throughout the entire experience. Now I had to face the fear of returning back to the real world. How was I going to be able to live up to the expectations both I and others would place upon me? It seemed like an insurmountable task. I fondly recall a quote from Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle where he says: “Well, I’m going to remind myself to get out of bed every morning, and breathe in and out all day long. Then after a while, I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out. I won’t have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.” That fear of retuning to real life loomed over my head.
I quickly learned how to apply the K.I.S.S. principle to my life – Keep it Simple. ’One step at a time’ became my mantra.
I can finally look at myself in the mirror every day and still see “me,” only someone different on so many levels. I envision myself emerging from a dark cocoon into the light as a bright and beautiful butterfly.
Life may not come tied up in a bow, but it’s still a gift.
Sheila Ortiz
Kingston, ON
It most certainly is a gift. "One step at a time" gave me strength when I thought for sure it was impossible to go on. I think that's how many of us push forward.
Hello! Don't let being a cancer patient or survivor take over your life. Remember WHO YOU ARE at the core. That is what will carry you through and continue to make a strong and beautiful person!
Hugs
Sheila
I was really relieved to read that I was not the only one that found returning to normal as a really hard step. I refer to it as my “new normal” and I am still trying to figure out what all that entails.
Hello! I like your concept of "new normal" because you are right. We are never going to be the same people we once were. I like to think we are that much more special. You will figure out the rest. Just be gentle with yourself. :>))
Dear Sheila and all the women on this journey. I was sooo relieved to hear that the 'end' was so hard. My radiation was over June 6. I have yet to return to work. I am exhausted, weak and scared the cancer will come back. I am sure this is all 'textbook' but have felt so alone. and I don't know what to do. I am eating healthy, exercising. worried that I am still soooo tired. will I ever be the saem again.
and am so scared to enter the land of the living. Have even prayed for death. but have 3 kids, 6, 12, and 14. An angry husband who isnt able to 'come back' after having taken care of the house and kids all last year. Yes, in some ways a gift but hard in so many other ways.
so reassuring to read your story though. Gave me validation for what I am going through as well as reassurance and hope. I cannot thank you enough.
Shawna
had stage 3 breast cancer. left side mastectomy, aggressive chemo and radiation, 3 kids aged 6 – 14. am sooo tired still. treatment ended on June 6. still not at work. was hopeful to read your story! reassuring. validating. how do I get better? what are the baby steps?
Hello! Thanks for writing. I found staying optimistic to be so important. surround yourself with the things that make you happy. Don't worry, you will be tired for a LONG time. Don't be hard on yourself for it. Your body is telling you something. It's been two years total and I still get tired. So, the baby steps are to take your time. There's no time limit on healing. We are always so hard on ourselves. Getting back to work will be tough, but try to do a little at a time and then gradually increase. No one understands how cancer knocks the stuffing out of you unless they've been through it. Stand TALL girl! You will be just fine.
Way to go Sheila! And all of you other warriors out there! It's definately a process and a 'new' life after treatment is over. But it's an amazing new life and we can conquer the world. Live fearlessly, and have no regrets. There is a good book out there called, 'Picking up the Pieces', a great read for moving forward.
Thanks so much! I am definately going to check out that book! Always looking for ways to make life better! Hugs!