World Cancer Day

I had my first mammogram in that dress. On that day. I first heard the words “microcalcifications”. I first cried in the room when they came in and told me that they were going to do additional scans on the side I’d detected the lump. It was the night I heard I hope you dance and sobbed. And thought that I would soon die. That I would leave my kids, motherless. After 33 years on the earth. 

That was the day. The day that I’ll forever associate with my diagnosis. Because the next two-ish weeks were spent waiting. Waiting to know if it was. What it was. How bad  it was. And of course, if I was going to die. Soon. 

I just. I was so depressed. I was paralyzed by the thought of leaving my three boys. Of my parents burying their youngest daughter. Of leaving my brother and sister. And of kissing my husband goodbye. I just. I was irrational. And lost. And felt blindsided. 

How could I have cancer. Other people got cancer. Not me. 

But I did. 

And now. Now. This year. On World Cancer Day. I have cancer. 

And I celebrated today. Because I am living with cancer right now. I didn’t immediately die from it. I got the gift of time. I got the gift of seeing goodness. I got the gift of snuggling in my husband’s nook each night. Seeing the sunrise in the morning. Hugging my precious, beautiful babies whenever the moment strikes. And getting to continue being a wife. A mom. A blogger. 

I got to live today.

The statistics are in my favor. If it’s only in the breast. If it never comes back. The statistics now. In this day and age. Because of modern medicine. Because of advances in research. Because of people pounding the pavement for advocacy of those living with cancer. The statistics are in my favor that I can go on with life and never have cancer again.

Praise. Jesus. 

I can only pray that someday we have World Cancer Day and we talk about it like Polio. Like a disease that used to be. A disease. A sickness. A toxic visitor. That used to include horrendous treatments. Life-changing drugs. And terrifying options. 

So today. Today I celebrated being alive this year on World Cancer Day. Because millions of people have not had my fate. They’ve not had my current diagnosis. They’ve not been able to snuggle in the crook of their husband’s necks. Because cancer ravages lives. It can get in every nook and cranny. And it can take a beautiful soul and make the body that carries it completely unfit for this earth. 

So it is my prayer today that somehow. Someway. Someday. There is a cure. Not just for breast cancer. Not just for Stage 4 Metastatic patients. Not just for the dear sweet children who fight the battle. But for everyone. For every. single. person who hears the words

It’s cancer

It was maybe the worst day of my life. Which is painful to say because it was one of my favorite people’s best day. But the day I got my mammogram. The day I got the ultrasound. It was, in my mind, the day I was told I had cancer. I just knew. 

But today. Today was maybe the best. 

I ran on the treadmill for 3.1 miles. Not a big deal to some. A huge deal to me.

I cleaned the house a bit. 

I spent time coffeeing with a friend.

I saw the sunshine. 

I hugged my husband. 

I talked to my mom. 

I got to tell each of my boys how brilliant and lovely and special they are. 

And I got to be me. Without abandon.

Today I got to live with cancer. It’s more than a lot get to say about their journey. I am one of the lucky ones. 

And I hope that next time this day rolls around I will have No Evidence of disease. 

And until then, I will just be so thankful to God, my doctors, my family, and my friends for fighting this battle with me. And be thankful that I was diagnosed in a time when the word Cancer doesn’t have to mean a death sentence. And instead, it means I can be present in life. And feel alive. 

And I decided not to make my own video when I saw this one… because this, this is cancer.