Daughter, sister, wife, aunt, godmother, teacher, food blogger, baker, event coordinator, entrepreneur, modern calligrapher & instructor, tea enthusiast, content creator, photographer.
I’ve held many titles in my 44 years, but I never ever thought I would have to add cancer survivor to the list.
Please note that the content below may be upsetting for some. If you’d prefer to skip it, but would still like to support my healing journey in a tangible way, you may do so via the following ways:
“To love beauty is to see light.”
my story
On January 4, 2022, I was diagnosed with endometrial/uterine cancer.
I had been experiencing abnormal bleeding for months, but it wasn’t until I became anemic from all the blood loss in the Fall of 2021 that I went to the doctor. She recommended an out-patient procedure that could potentially solve my ailments, and at the same time, get a biopsy to rule out anything serious.
The procedure happened two days before New Year’s Eve.
My worst nightmare came true a few days into the new year. It was soul-crushing. shocking. terrifying.
What’s even worse is that I received the devastating news via a patient portal while I was home alone and had to wait hours until my doctor called to figure out next steps: oncologists, hospitals, treatments, etc.
Fast forward to February 10, I had a total hysterectomy - which means I was put into surgical menopause (at age 43), can't ever bear my own children, and still reeling from it all mentally/emotionally/spiritually.
Thankfully, we caught it early (stage 1a, no spread/invasion), had 5 rounds of targeted radiation but no chemo. The docs deemed me "cancer-free" or NED (no evidence of disease) and continue to give good reports at each 3 month check-up. They assure me my prognosis is good, my radiation oncologist told me she’s confident that this isn’t something I need to worry about coming back; my GYN oncologist even used the word “curable”.
Back-tracking a bit – in the days and weeks following my surgery, my fear & anxiety heightened significantly, even more than before the surgery. At first, I attributed it to my hormones “bottoming out” due to having my ovaries removed. But after about a month of these constant anxious/negative/scary thoughts, I sought out a local therapist to help me process everything that happened.
During this time, I also had to get a thyroid biopsy because a lesion was found in my initial CAT scan. I had to get testing done due to the fact that I had the markers for something called Lynch Syndrome (LS), which makes someone more susceptible to other types of cancers. It was all too much. Everything came back negative, thankfully, but it was 3 long months of waiting, imagining the worst, to find out about the LS.
There was so much fear about everything. The possibility of recurrence, a second form of cancer, the fear of dying, fretting over what to eat/not to eat, stressing about buying/cooking everything organic, how expensive everything was getting, how much exercise/sleep to get, and the list goes on.
The fear was constant. Every single waking moment.
As you can imagine, all of this left me with limited emotional and mental energy for anything and anyone else. It was difficult to put it into words or explain it to my family/friends. Just that the anxiety/fear was taking over my brain space. For months I couldn’t even be on social media - I deleted all the apps off my phone. I couldn’t watch TV. Even just picking up my phone would stir up an uneasy feeling - I had associated my phone with bad news. So it made sense that I didn’t want to spend too much time on it - for any reason, even to get in touch with my family and friends.
I recently came across this explanation from an anxiety therapist on what I was experiencing - it made so much sense to me:
“When our body and mind is alarmed in survival mode, we shut off the so-called Social Engagement System (SES) and this system is what allows us to feel warm and connected to others (and ourselves).
This makes sense from an evolutionary perspective, as your brain decides to shut off unnecessary functions like social engagement with others when your body perceives and acts like it’s in a war zone.
As a result, people who are anxious have a hard time staying connected to their partners, friends, family, etc.”
Another therapist shared that in survival mode, it may be hard to find a human who feels safe to co-regulate with. She encouraged spending time in nature (which I was already seeking out), and with pets/animals as they give unconditional love with no judgement.
Everyday is a battle with anxiety, and just feeling lost at what's next. but what has helped immensely is intentionally spending time outdoors in nature, exploring new places, and capturing the beauty around me through photography.
Observing the delicate petals of blooming flowers, trees swaying in the wind, seagulls taking flight over the Hudson River, the sparkling ocean under the hot summer sun, the golden sun setting behind the mountains. Once warmer weather arrived, I couldn’t get enough of being outside, appreciating the aliveness of mother nature and capturing it all.
Even though I don't have formal training, photography is what makes sense for me right now. Sharing the beauty I see has always been a part of who I am, whether I realized it or not. I know there are a gazillion photographers out there who are much better at this than I am, but for me, it's not about the end result - it's about the process. Being outdoors, seeking beauty + light, getting lost in the details to compose just the right shot - even the process of editing. Each small action helps ground me and keeps me in the present moment, something that was lost after diagnosis.
Today, I’m grateful to say that I’m having more good days than bad. It’s been a long, hard journey to get here. I’m thankful to be able to share my story with you. Thank you for being here.