How I handled a cancer diagnosis

And my advice if you or a loved one hears those words

It’s October which means that we’re inundated with pinkwashing as companies go out of their way to show their support for breast cancer research.

As someone who has received a breast cancer diagnosis, I know all too well what it’s like to hear “you have cancer” - and I have some advice. It may rankle some but I’m okay with that, if it helps just one person.

First, a little context. My mother passed away from metastatic breast cancer in 2013. So in addition to all the societal images and conceptions of what it means to have cancer, I had an up close and personal experience with it outside of my own, as well.

The diagnosis for me came out of nowhere. I’d been getting my yearly mammograms and nothing was found. I had a very proactive OBGYN who, after having done an assessment of my risk for developing breast cancer, wanted me to get screenings done twice a year; a mammogram followed by an MRI six months later, rinse and repeat. It was through the MRI, which was meant to just be a screening since we’d had no inkling that there was anything going on, that the tumor was discovered.

I won’t go through everything that came next - the biopsy, the waiting for results, the meetings with different doctors to make plans.

What I really want to focus on is what I learned as I went through this process. I will repeat what I said above - this advice may not be for you, depending on your beliefs, but it may help someone and that’s what I care most about. So let’s get into it.

First, remember you are not the diagnosis. You may have noticed that I’ve refrained from saying “my cancer” or “my diagnosis”. I’ve never taken ownership of the cancer or the diagnosis. Except for a very few times where it was easier for someone to understand what I was telling them, I didn’t say “I have cancer”, instead explaining to people - from the very beginning - that I was healing from cancer. Words are powerful, and I refused to have any part of my identity be associated with it and also chose to believe that I was healing from it.

Now, just because I took this attitude early on doesn’t mean that I didn’t have scary, overwhelming, fearful thoughts. Of course those came up! Especially when I listened to or read things from those who meant well but were speaking from the common narrative.

Which brings me to my next point.

Do your research but be mindful of what you’re consuming. In the very early days, before I even got the official diagnosis, I did what we all do when we want to find more information - I went to Dr. Google and Facebook. And oh. My. God. was that the biggest mistake I could have made. Google if you must, but be forewarned to be mindful of what you take in. Join a FB group to get information, but make sure the information inspires you instead of terrifying you.

That brings me to the third point and that is that you are not a statistic. You are an individual. You are a person whose body, with it’s innate ability to heal, was not part of the studies that you’ve probably come across if you did any Googling or that your doctors will share with you. You are someone who is able to make decisions based on what feels right for you and what you believe to be true and helpful.

And that’s my fourth point. Doctors aren’t God. They may tell you things like how much time you have left to live. Even just typing those words makes me so angry because how the hell do they know when it’s your time to go? Because of a study that was done on someone who isn’t you? Please, please remember my third point and know that you are not a statistic. Strengthen your faith. Listen to YOUR body and ask what it needs from you. Look at all avenues of healing - from standard of care to integrative to holistic and do what feels best for you, that you can comfortably move forward with.

As for my final point, for now, believe me when I say I know that this one is coming from a place of extreme privilege. But the more you can find out about what’s going on within your own body, the more you’re able to make decisions from a place of power. For me, this meant doing testing - and I don’t mean genetic testing, although I did have that done as well - and no I didn’t have the BRCA gene or anything else. (Btw, did you know that only ~5-10% of cancer is caused by a genetic mutation? Diving more into that is a post for another day.)

I did epigenetic testing that let me and the doctor I was working with know where the weaknesses within my own body were; how efficiently, or not, I was metabolizing estrogen, for instance, since the tumor was hormone positive. This helped us make decisions about how to better support my body without taking a one-size-fits-all approach that is unfortunately the cornerstone of healthcare in the US (and I’m sure other parts of the world).

There is so, so much more that I could say about this subject. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with what I’ve shared above. And as I’ve said, I don’t want a cancer diagnosis to be my identity. However, I feel that given the other narratives out there, it’s important for me to share a perspective that you may not have heard before and that could bring you comfort or help if you or a loved one gets a cancer diagnosis, which is becoming more and more likely if you look at the numbers.

With that, I’ll end this (very) long post but will share more before the end of October.

If anything I’ve said above makes you want to reach out to learn more, please do! I am always more than happy to answer any questions and help in anyway I can.