An Original Writing by Jen Fecher
Being diagnosed with breast cancer can seem like the loneliest, most confusing time on the planet. It will take you time to navigate these new waters, and experience all the waves that will rush towards you. You will need your own personal adjustment time to your treatment plan, and you’ll need to give yourself time to physically adjust to your body changes. Yes, this personal journey will be yours alone; but rest assured that right now you are not alone in any of the feelings you are having, or experiences you are dealing with. And under that big, expansive sky- are all the humans on the same boat as you are- just trying to live their best lives while fighting their best fight.
Sure, you’ll go through the ringer with this cancer and lose parts of yourself along the way. Sure, you’re going to struggle, suffer, and fight to stay afloat. You’re going to deal with body changes, alterations, and saying goodbye to the “old” you. But you know what? You’re going to learn so much about yourself from this experience and get to know so many just like you. You’ll grow into a warrior on a mission to spread the word of cancer research and early detection. You’ll become comfortable sharing your personal story for others to learn from and treatments to expand and better from. You will come out of this battle in the end stronger and more determined than you’ve ever been.
Right now, while it all seems so daunting and overwhelming, you are not alone.
One in eight women are feeling just as you are, right now.
One in eight-hundred men also know what you are working through and the difficult journey ahead.
Right now, as you digest the words, “I’m sorry, you have breast cancer” from your doctor, there are twenty people hearing the same words, wondering what will happen next.
Right now, many people are feeling the same gut-wrenching hurt in telling their families, their children, and their best friends that they have breast cancer.
Right now, as you have the PET scan to determine the location and stage of your cancer, there are dozens of people with sweaty palms and praying minds that the lump is minor, or not cancer at all.
Right now, as you listen to your doctor introduce your surgeon, who tells you that your breast cancer has metastasized into your bones, you go numb for the overload of information. Rest assured that right now there are people hearing the same terrible news, preparing for the same unknown.
Right now, as you’re sitting in the hospital bed, hooked up to your fourth round of chemotherapy, with tears in your eyes, wishing someone could have joined you to keep you company today; another woman has just left the same kind of appointment, alone, wiping her cheeks dry.
Right now, as you fight to maintain composure while dealing with copious side effects from the chemotherapy, you struggle to find the purpose in your treatment plan and wonder if it is even working at all- there are thousands of people spending time with the same exhausting and terrible side effects, hoping, and praying they’ll make it out alive.
Right now, looking down at your now surgically altered chest, you wonder if you’ll ever find your sense of self again- and hundreds of others are also digesting their new scars, breasts, and chests.
Right now, as you’re holding handfuls of your own hair in your hands, while looking at the scattered strands on the floor; you’re deciding if it is time to shave your head. Other people have just completed this task and are already trying to adjust to showing the very visible sign of cancer treatment to the world, and themselves.
Right now, as you stay away from your children due to the levels of radiation you’ve just experienced for the tenth time, you sit and wonder if you’ll ever be able to have another child with your partner, or if the heavy medications and radiation have killed your reproductive system.
Right now, as you reach out to sexual wellness and intimacy advocates to help you to regain aspects of your intimate life you have desperately missed and longed for, others are wondering if these types of services even exist in their location.
Right now, as you listen to your doctor say the words, “Your cancer is in remission,” you can finally fully exhale again, and all the weeks, months, and years of worry and confusion pour from your eyes from all the emotions you have not even come close to fully digesting- your breast cancer brothers and sisters are having this same moment.
Right now, as you stand up and talk to your support group for the first time, finally feeling a certain sense of stability in realizing you just successfully killed your cancer, you feel confidant in sharing your personal story with others beginning their journey, in hopes to make them feel less alone. Dozens of people are also grasping on to their bravery and sharing the importance of early detection with others as well.
Right now, as you pile on layers of pink and ribbons to stay warm while you join your first fundraising walk for breast cancer, the sea of pink clothing, bald heads, and happy tears are further proof that little by little, you are reclaiming your life and standing up to this ugly disease alongside all these breast cancer warriors just like you.
Right now, as you sit in a room full of breast cancer survivors just like yourself at a symposium to recognize your challenges, you feel the power and momentum in the room. The drive to work towards finding a cure through sharing personal stories, reclaiming your lives, and fighting for the future in cancer research and care. Hearing the doctors and specialists that work tirelessly to help you live, you realize that all along you were never truly alone. Being in this atmosphere only reignites your spark to health and wellness and wishing that for every survivor along the way.
The fight to cure cancer, of all kinds, is a world-wide, ALL human fight. Cancer does not discriminate and affects everyone of every gender, creed, culture, or religion. No one is exempt, which is why everyone should be fighting and helping to fight to end all cancers.
Citations:
Empowering Intimacy™ Original, Jen Fecher