Two requests came my way over the past few days and I haven’t been able to adequately respond to either. The first was a request for me to enter an essay that covered what I’ve learned from my breast cancer journey. The second was a request to reach out to a newly diagnosed woman and give her words of encouragement for her upcoming journey.
In the situation of the first, it is my own fault. (shrug) I sent a comment/reply to a blog that I read regularly about breast cancer because I noticed that all of her entries to a particular post were from white women. Not that there is anything wrong with that. But the writer was compiling a list of top 10 lessons learned from breast cancer and it struck me as rather odd that no women of color had learned anything during their journey. Fortunately for me the writer was a real dear and she responded to my query and then asked me to submit an entry (and a picture) and to share my lesson(s) with the world. (that’s what I get for opening my big mouth, I suppose)
I have no idea what I will say but I will respond to her today because I need to. And I will pass along the information so that other women of color can respond as well (if they want to). But I need to respond to what I’ve learned as much as I need to offer encouragement to the woman who is just starting this journey… because I need to understand fully what I know now.
Some days, I am unsure if I’ve learned anything and unsure whether I have gained anything at all. I know that I have learned things – I see that in my responses to people when they ask me direct and pointed questions about different things regarding handling breast cancer treatment. I am often surprised by how much I’ve learned and how much I know. But when I sit down to just think about it – I simply can’t remember too much of it. Its too much.
When I started this journey, I was frustrated that there wasn’t one great book that would tell me all that I needed to know to get through my cancer treatment. I was upset that there weren’t more women of color publicly talking about their breast cancer journey and offering hope to those who continue to follow down that path. I was sad that I couldn’t relate to the permanently perky women I saw in various places who made it seem so easy to get through. While I didn’t have a map of the new land I was entering, I was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to be an easy trek and I wished and longed for someone who could have helped me along the way. Someone I could relate to. Someone who looked like me, or talked like me… or something. But there weren’t too many role models out there for me.
Now, I try to be a bit of a guide – though probably not the best guide that’s out there – for sisters who are coming behind me. primarily because I know that they are coming. Until there is a cure, they are going to keep coming and keep coming and keep coming. And I feel compelled to let them know that you don’t have to be perky and chipper every day and some days it will take all of your energy just to stay awake or just to keep your anger in check. Some days, it will just be difficult being. And that’s okay.
I’m getting close to the last straw. (laughs) Meaning that I’ve learned how to navigate the diagnosis, I’ve learned how to give myself space to weep and to cry. I’ve learned that it is okay to say no, or not now and not feel badly about it. Basically, I’ve learned that I have to take care of myself.
I guess that is what I will write the essay about and what I will share with my newest pink ribbon sister. Take care of yourself.
