I was inspired by my own story. And it felt amazing...
Before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I looked at cancer survivors with a certain awe. I often thought, "man, I could never handle that"... Some people, like Lance Armstrong, make cancer look easy. Or rather, they make the survival of cancer look simple. But, I'm learning that it really isn't as simple as it appears on the outside.
I am told frequently that my story is inspiring. Or that the strength and grace that I've been exhibiting along this journey is admirable. Usually, I find that hard to accept. However, tonight I am sitting here with tears running down my face... because I was just reading some old blog posts and looking at a picture of myself at the end of my chemotherapy treatment.
When you finally see the scars from what you've been through... it humbles you
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| Smiling after 4 months of chemotherapy. Exhausted and really just getting started on my journey with breast cancer. |
In the picture, I'm smiling -- like I always do when a camera is present -- and I'm bald. I stared at that picture for about 10 - 15 minutes. Just taking in all sorts of details. The picture was a few weeks before my mastectomy, so my breasts were different from the way they are now. They had more "hang" to them... more size and volume. I filled out my turtleneck differently than I would today. I noticed my little pooch in my belly -- still there even after losing 30 pounds through my chemotherapy treatment. That's gone too now.
My head was bald and my face was devoid of makeup. I looked pale. Because of the drugs my skin was so fragile and dry, I was afraid to put on any makeup. I noticed the hyperpigmentation spots on my head (just a few) and the different colors in my face. I had hidden my hands in that picture, but I remembered that my hands and my feet were discolored and my palms and the bottom of my feet were darkened from the chemo.
I remember the event -- it was a brunch with my social group -- and I remembered that I felt okay that day. I had some energy. I was happy to be with my friends. It felt like a really good day. And I actually felt cute.
I wasn't.
Well, for all that I was going through, yes... I was cute. And pretty. Stunning possibly. But considering how much more I would go through after that picture and remembering how utterly exhausted I was at that time... I am amazed that I was looking so very normal. How do you manage to look normal and sickly at the same time? How do you smile in a picture after you've been through four months of chemotherapy, lost 30 pounds and are just a few days away from losing your breast?
My head was bald and my face was devoid of makeup. I looked pale. Because of the drugs my skin was so fragile and dry, I was afraid to put on any makeup. I noticed the hyperpigmentation spots on my head (just a few) and the different colors in my face. I had hidden my hands in that picture, but I remembered that my hands and my feet were discolored and my palms and the bottom of my feet were darkened from the chemo.
I remember the event -- it was a brunch with my social group -- and I remembered that I felt okay that day. I had some energy. I was happy to be with my friends. It felt like a really good day. And I actually felt cute.
I wasn't.
Well, for all that I was going through, yes... I was cute. And pretty. Stunning possibly. But considering how much more I would go through after that picture and remembering how utterly exhausted I was at that time... I am amazed that I was looking so very normal. How do you manage to look normal and sickly at the same time? How do you smile in a picture after you've been through four months of chemotherapy, lost 30 pounds and are just a few days away from losing your breast?
Knowing what I know now, I don't know how I had the strength to get through it all
The person I am today simply cannot answer any of those questions. I have no idea how I did it. I just knew it had to be done and the alternative would be to give up and prepare to die and I simply wasn't ready to make that choice. So I made a different choice.
I was just inspired by myself. The girl in that picture had a hard time. A really hard time. But she handled it with a lot of grace and a lot of strength. She cried, she acknowledged that she was weak... but she got up and went to every appointment with a smile on her face. She sat through hours of chemo drips and joked and laughed with the medical staff the entire time. She consoled friends who were distraught because she was dealing with such a heavy burden... and then when she was alone... she poured out her tears and frustrations in prayer, and in writing.
THAT girl... is so inspiring and amazing.
THIS girl... doesn't even feel like that person any more. Just looking at my former self, made me feel ashamed for feeling down for a moment.
Damn. If I could get through all of that... is there anything or any reason I can't do more? Wow. I am humbled by my own experience.
I have been through some major stuff and I'm still here. It is overwhelming.
Being inspired by yourself has to be the strangest thing ever. But I really am at this moment. Knowing that other people are inspired by you is equally humbling.
What can I say? I did not start this journey trying to be a super-woman. I just wanted to get to the other side. And after I finished each step of the treatment... there was another side that I needed to get to. Until one day... I was told that I wouldn't have to come back for months until my follow-up appointment. And it hit me that I had climbed several mountains and crawled through a few valleys... and now I was on "the other side" and this side is almost as scary as that one.
Finding inspiration in life often is a matter of opening your eyes and seeing what someone else is going through. It takes putting yourself in their shoes and imagining for a moment that you have to do what they have to do. And then acknowledging that they are carrying a heavy burden. Maybe as heavy as the one you have, maybe heavier. But if they aren't shrugging off their responsibility to be the best person they can be... then they give you permission to reach deeper into yourself and be the best person you can be.
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| In physical therapy for my lymphedema |
I am appreciative of the experience and the story it gave me.
I am not the same person I was before cancer. I had hoped to return to normal. I am realizing that my expectation was misdirected. There is no returning to normal after this. I will never be that person again. But that isn't a bad thing. I simply can't go back. Even though there is some comfort in the memory of my life before all of this. That just isn't what lies in my future. I'm no different from anyone else. None of us can go backward in time... no matter how much we may want to or wish to. All you can do is start again from where you are and press forward.
I'm still carrying burdens and feeling pressured and hoping for grace and strength to get through these days. And I am confident that I can do it.
What story about your own life is inspiring to you?
