One Year CANCERversary

"'Cancerversary' is a word lots of survivors use to describe the day you find out you have cancer. It is a pivotal life altering moment in time that seems as big as the Grand Canyon, but far less Grand. Not sure how to celebrate such a moment, but it's certainly hard to forget it." -Rhonda Radliff (breast cancer survivor)

I found the following letter on a blog from a Cancer Survivor named Ann. She's an amazing writer. (See her original post HERE) It was almost exactly how I feel about my Cancerversary. So I added a couple thoughts and specific memories/events that pertain to my own story- and wanted to share it here with you. It's what I wish I would have known in the beginning.

A Letter to the Newly Diagnosed 
on my One Year Cancerversary

Dear Newly Diagnosed Breast Cancer Patient,

I was diagnosed with breast cancer one year ago today.  April 2nd, 2012.  On this cancerversary, I thought I would share some wisdom with you.

The first thing you need to learn about a diagnosis of breast cancer is that you have to learn stupid terminology such as "cancerversary."

Why an illness has its own terminology is a mystery - but you will learn it.  Instead of recovering, you are a Survivor.  You don't heal,  you have a "New Normal."  You have foobs and fipples, experience chemobrain and get chemo curl. I don't know if any other illnesses have their own phrases. But my suggestion is to learn the vocab so you won't be out of the loop, but try not to use it in polite conversation.  Discussing your foobs with your mailman is only going to lead to confusion.

The next thing I would like to share with you is that the fear and shock you feel right now will pass. One year ago today, I felt it too.   I know it doesn't seem like it will ever go away, and I know you feel like every nerve ending in your body is made out of high voltage wire.  You will eat, sleep, dream, and think about nothing but Cancer for quite some time.

I'm sorry to tell you that you will become a bore, because it's all you will talk about.  Heaven help anybody who asks how you are doing, because you are likely to tell them.  In detail.  If somebody cuts you off in traffic, you will be outraged, "How dare you?  Don't you know I have CANCER?"

But, as they say, this too shall pass.  It will gradually become just a disease you are dealing with, like diabetes or high blood pressure - an inconvenience, but one you can manage.  It's hard to understand that during the early days, and I know you don't believe me now, so you'll just have to trust me.

The worst part of a cancer diagnosis is the uncertainty, and the worst part of the uncertainty is at the beginning. You are facing an illness that can take your life.  You are facing medical procedures that are unknown and pretty darn scary.  You may be facing the loss of a body part or two, or even three, counting hair.  You don't know what any of this is like: how you'll feel, how you'll react, how your family will deal with it.  All you may know is what you've seen in the movies or on TV.  You likely will have many sleepless nights, and be on an information hunt/overload for weeks, if not months - all to try to know what will happen to you - to see into the future.

At some point though, you will come to terms with the fact that knowing the future is impossible, and living with the day you have is all you can do.  You will find peace in that.

Looking back on my cancer treatment, do you know what I remember?  I remember my hubby and my kiddos shaving their Mommy bald for family night. (How often does that ever happen?) I remember Kristen and me laughing until we cried in the infusion room with tubes stuck up my nose. I remember getting treats from the volunteers and catching upon my blog for hours every 3 weeks on my borrowed iPad. I think of my oncologist's smart comments and rolling eyes as I challenged all his treatment suggestions (I'm sure he was glad when all my treatments were over). I think of heart-felt conversations accompanied by a few tears with Carrie, my fav chemo nurse about what it's like to really live through cancer and how if you haven’t experienced- you just don’t get it.  I know it sounds funny but in a way, now that it's over, I will miss going there.

I also think back on the support of so many people - finding surprises like a new hat or a pink basket full of treats on my doorstep when I got home, or the meals my friends contributed towards. Thinking of heartwarming events like that take away any exhaustion you may feel at the moment.

I wish I'd known when I started that the loss of a breast (or two) is meaningless.  They were a part of me for as long as I could remember. Granted they were a little smaller and hung a little lower than in my pre-Momma stage but they were mine. It was devastating to lose them. But even losing them both, I still feel every bit the woman I did before.  Now I just get to choose what size I’d like to be each day. LOL My missing breasts nursed my babies but in losing them, I find I can be with my babies longer.  I don't feel, as many do, that my breasts tried to kill me and so they had to go.  To use the omnipresent war comparison - I felt that they were the battleground which had to be sacrificed for the greater good. The land is scarred but the soul survives.

There is a lot of controversy about having a positive attitude. A positive attitude will not change the course of your disease, nor will it cure you, nor should you feel required to put one on all of the time. Someone asked me if a pessimist can beat the disease, and the answer is yes.  For the most part -it's medical science that cures cancer, not attitude.

However, if you can learn to see the positives, the humor, the blessings even, that come from this disease, than your treatment course will be easier on you.  I believe that without a doubt. Some of the treatment won't be fun.  Some may have long-lasting side effects.  But, life goes on, and you have yours.  Dwelling on the negatives, overlooking the good things, is, in my opinion, wasting your new life.

A diagnosis of cancer will change you.  It may always be in the back of your mind, and yes, nervousness and fear will again pop-up around testing times, but you will learn to manage it and eventually take it in stride.

And, here's the thing:  it's up to you whether cancer changes you for the better or not. It's entirely in your control.  You can't alter the fact that you have the disease, but you can choose how you react to it.

I want to tell you that I'm very sorry that you have to go through this.  But, as horrible as it seems now, it will bring blessings to your life that you never expected.  My advice? Look for them, even if it seems impossible.

Especially if it seems impossible.

Because, they are there.

Love, Shay