Survivorship

My Identity After Cancer

After being diagnosed with cancer and overcoming it, a new label was added to my identity: cancer survivor. While this label carries a positive connotation, it also brings a sense of uncertainty.

I May Not Know Who I Am, But I Know What I Want

In popular lore, there is the cliche that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. When I was 24, I was told I had stage III cancer, and what flashed before my eyes was all the life I should have lived: the wedding I would never have, the kids I would never raise, the dreams I was working toward—everything I thought I had time for could vanish in an instant.

Cancer is Not My Identity

Life after cancer isn’t what I, or many, expect it to be like. Like a lot of others, it’s believed that once your treatment is over and you are disease-free, your life will go back to how it once was.

I Wish Someone Told Me to Try to Go with the Flow

When I was diagnosed the first time around, back in 2017, I had a pretty idealistic view of how I would navigate chemotherapy. I was convinced I would successfully use the cold cap and keep all of my hair.

if someone told me…

I wish someone told me that survivorship would be the hardest part…
that it’s like a rollercoaster,
except the track changes every time you start the ride again.

Life Goes On?

I looked in the mirror as I furiously brushed my hair. It reached down maybe a third down my back. It’s taken 12 years to get this long. I’ve only ever trimmed and shaped it a few times; I worry about cutting a chunk off, in case it won’t grow back.

Skin

You took the skin off my back, literally.
You left me numb, emotionally and physically.

Young Breast Cancer Your Story and Mine: A Compact Guide

Due to the problem of omission of public breast health education, I believed that “it couldn’t be cancer.” I didn’t know my risk factors, and I believed I was too young. This belief fueled my own delay in seeking care for some months, which could have been detrimental to my survival due to the extra aggressive nature of my tumor being Triple Negative breast cancer.

Ode to H.E.R. (Holding Every Reality)

It feels like it took a lifetime to find you… this body of mine. All her shapes, curves, and ombre moods of brown.

I was sort of lost without understanding how powerful you are, so I’ve fought hard for you to stay.

Internal and External Scars

I am two years into cancer
Or rather –
Cancer is two years into me –
and my body is Scarred.
No,
Not just where they sliced open my neck and removed the cancer
(twice).
No,
not just where they implanted a port into the middle of my chest,
just below my once-cushioned
(now-protruding)
collar bone.
No,
Scar tissue is
where my heart is
and
Scar tissue is
where my words are
and
Scar tissue has taken over
the Happiness Center in my brain.