What I learned while talking to my breast cancer therapist

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Life has the means to strike hard and change the direction of a person's way. This was the case in 2014, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had just returned to university after a 30-year hiatus due to a mental health problem that needed to be resolved, at least in part, before I could continue my life. At the age of 55, I threw my hat into the ring to earn my degree in arts associated with a nearby junior university. My grades were going well and I enjoyed the experience of working towards my goal of getting a PhD. when I had my annual mammogram.

I was not worried because I had already had many mammograms and they were always negative. However, the month of November was different because within 24 hours, I received a call from my doctor who wanted me to have a new mammogram. I still was not concerned. I had forgotten and put the deodorant on the morning of the first morning, and although I washed after, I still had a chance I missed it.

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Yes, I thought that was what had happened.

I spent the second mammogram without incident and I went home. Six hours later, my doctor reminded me to tell me that I needed a right breast sonogram. She assured me that it was a routine and that I felt better. After the sonogram, I received another phone call. This time, my doctor prescribed a biopsy.

As we were in December and Christmas was approaching, the biopsy was scheduled for early January. I did not take advantage of this Christmas party for reasons of anxiety and for things to go wrong, I received three new bras that year. What irony.

In early January 2015, a biopsy was performed and this time, my doctor wanted to see me right away and asked me to bring in a family member or friend. I knew then what she was going to tell me. I actually had a cancerous tumor in my right breast and she referred me to a surgeon.

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In early February 2015, my right breast was removed with several lymph nodes and I started life beyond cancer. I was lucky, the cancer was extremely small and did not spread beyond the channel in which it had developed. However, I learned that I had triple negative breast cancer, which meant that my chances of long-term survival were less than those associated with other types of breast cancer. I was told that because the cancer was small and had not spread, chemotherapy and radiation were not needed and would only increase my survival rate by 2%. , so I chose not to participate.

After the operation, I fought with feelings of betrayal. My body had attacked me and I was trying to kill myself for months. In addition, I had to undergo a second surgery because the incision was open and had become a smelly and nasty mess. With the ordeal of another surgery, the feelings of betrayal deepened. My mind stirred with questions, "How can this happen to me? God hated me? Why did my body do that? Why?"

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I hated looking in the mirror because my scar is huge, starting from the center of my chest and ending under my arm. It did not look like pictures I had seen of other women because the surgeon had to sew the closed incision with more than 127 stitches on the outside, instead of using a special glue from the inside . Even though I knew it was so ugly because of the second operation, its ugliness filled me with repulsion. I could not help but think that no man would want a woman as scarred and ugly as me, I would not do it. I know it's superficial, but that's what I felt.

I grieved and cried over the loss of my beauty because I felt less woman. Fortunately, I saw a therapist at the time of the surgeries. Naturally, I took my emotional disorder to her office where she patiently listened to me moaning and crying for several weeks. Finally, she decided that it was time for me to get out of the pit in which I had fallen.

Several months after my operation, I went to his office one spring, always feeling betrayed and helpless by the ordeal that I had suffered. My therapist listened patiently for a few minutes while I spoke of treason. Finally, after being calmed down, she uttered words of wisdom that continue to help me to this day.

Below, I will paraphrase what she said:

"Shirley, life is not right or easy for anyone. Do you think that you are special and that you will never have hard times? It's good to be human, Shirley, and to be like everyone else. Shirley, people are born and die every day. People get sick with
cancer, often too, and many have a harder time than you. You are not so
Special my dear, that you will not experience the hard times now or in the future. It's good, it's really good. A breast does not make you a woman, nor does a foot make you a leg. It's good to mourn, but you have to give it up and move on. "

I needed these words of reality and kindness. I needed to know that even though I am unique, I am not special. This helped me to realize that many other men and women
women face, face and face the future of helplessness to become seriously ill and lose one or two breasts due to cancer.

I still do not like looking at myself in the mirror, but that's the reality I see. There in the mirror, I see my body as it is today with a breast and a huge scar. However, my disfigurement does not make me less woman; instead, it further highlights the fact that being a woman is deeper than the outer physical attributes.

The experiences I've had with breast cancer have taught me so much, and even though it has been difficult and continues to be, I'm grateful for not having cancer of the breast. breast.
cancer, but the person I find hidden behind the facade of femininity.

Despite breast cancer, I earned my associate degree and I continued my studies to enter a four year university in order to obtain my PhD. In my life after cancer, I have a new understanding of the preciousness of life and I try to enjoy each day as if it was the last.

If I had one word of wisdom to address to those who have breast cancer, this is the following: never give up and remember that there is a light on the other side of the tunnel of despair and of self-hatred that you may be feeling right now. When the clouds separate, my friend, the sun will shine again. I promise.

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