No one survives life’s toughest challenges alone. Sometimes we have our family, friends and medical professionals by our side to help us. And sometimes, the most important thing we can do is learn from other stories of survival. When we meet people who have not only experienced something similar but actually came through it better and stronger, it provides hope and inspiration. We invite you to Share Your Story of “Surviving & Thriving.” Your words could be just the thing someone needs to keep moving forward. Share the gift of hope.
Submitted by Rebecca Green:
My name is Rebecca. I’m 41 and 5 weeks ago I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma in my right breast. I’m a Mom, wife, athlete, avid reader, gardener and Pug lover. And even now I forget to write cancer survivor.
I had a gut feeling to get my annual mammogram and that day the radiologist felt certain enough to tell me I had DCIS. The whirlwind of appointments and biopsies began. I found myself getting sick of talking about my cancer; I even embraced my son’s strep throat diagnosis so I could think about something else other than myself even for a few days.
My cancer didn’t spread to my lymph nodes and the invasive cancer was small, but my margins weren’t clean so I’ll meet with a radiology oncologist next week to discuss further treatment. I’m laughing a lot more and stressing a lot less. I’ve found strength in my faith, family and friends, and running. The day after my diagnosis I was running and thought I wished I had traveled more. This will be easy to remedy and grateful my life has been so good that this was my only regret. I was training for my 3rd marathon and ran right up to my bilateral mastectomy; it eased my mind and calmed my anxiety.
Even as I write this I’m pulled away by my 4-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter yelling from the pool to come and watch a new stunt. Life does go on and my kids could care less that I’m stiffly walking out (with the darn drains annoying me) and cheer them on 8 days post-surgery.
Every now and again I’ve caught myself saying out loud, “Holy crap that was a close call. It could have been so worse. You are one lucky broad.”
I can’t wait to be healed and start running again!
