Reflections of Joy and Hope Three Years Later

Soaking in life and appreciating it so much!

It has been a long time since I have written. Part of me feels badly about that, but then there’s this sweet voice inside of me that reminds me that it’s okay because I have a wonderful excuse…I have been too busy living my life! It has been exactly three years since my breast cancer diagnosis. It was Halloween 2018, and I can remember many details of that day. But my reason for writing today isn’t to relive that day, but to share with those of you who are absorbing a recent diagnosis or going through treatment what it is like to be three years out from that day–to give you a glimpse of what the view is like from here. To offer hope and to offer compassion for where you are now.

It is important for me to share that I know I am not out of the woods (are we ever really?!). My cancer could reoccur and I am soberly aware of that fact. All I can do is take care of myself as best I can, love my people, and enjoy my life. And I am very much enjoying my life. I am trying new things, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, soaking in the beauty around me, appreciating my health, and not always, but often, living in the present.

When I first realized the challenges that lay ahead of me (surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation), those challenges were all consuming. It was far too scary for me to look too far ahead because 1) I was afraid I didn’t have very much time left and 2) I couldn’t imagine getting through all that I had to go through to get to the “other side” of treatment. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other and face my fears one by one.

What I want you to know is that there is a very, very good chance that you will be okay. You will be better than okay. Your incisions will heal, your body will process the chemotherapy drugs, your burns from radiation will subside, your hair will grow back. Your new boobs (or lack thereof) will feel like a part of you. You will get stronger. But more miraculous than all of those things, you will feel confident in a new, deep way. A way that only comes from persevering through hard times you thought might break you. You will feel lucky, appreciative, loving, and kind. You will have the luxury of forgetting you had cancer from time to time. It won’t be the first thing that pops into your head when you meet new people and are telling them about yourself. You will sometimes worry about stupid shit. And then, you will remind yourself that it doesn’t matter.

You might be thinking, that’s all well and good, Amy, but what if I don’t make it to my one, two, or three year mark? I know. All I can say is that I want you to get here so badly. I wish I could hold your hand and take away some of your fear and pain. My best advice is to practice acceptance of whatever you are feeling as it comes up. Please love yourself no matter what and eek whatever pleasure you can from your days. Learn as much as you can. Love as much as you can. Not even those of us who haven’t had cancer know how much time we have left here. We are different because we have been reminded of how temporary all of this is. We can use this to our advantage. It can become our super power.

Love, Amy