Cancer runs in my family — it has affected six out of eight siblings, my mom, my aunt, my grandmother, my cousins, and even my niece and nephew. But I’ve never let it define me. I don’t even like to use the “C” word — I call it “the unwelcome intruder.” It infiltrated my body and so now we’re just working on getting it out of there. I don’t allow it to control me or have authority over my body.
Throughout my treatment, some things have stayed constant in my life, and this grounds me. I’ve kept working, because I love my job and it gives me a sense of normalcy. My children are there for me — I’m a single mom of four kids, 22-year-old triplet daughters and a 24-year-old son. I love going on walks with my little nine-year-old Havanese and reading psychological thrillers.
My faith has been another constant source of strength. When I had a recurrence of the unwelcome intruder, I prayed a lot. I was like, “I can’t go through this a second time. Lord, what are you doing?” And I received a message saying that this was not a journey I was to take alone — that this was going to be a community-based journey for me. I have a habit of isolating myself, especially during times of struggle. Thanks to this message that came through, I’ve been staying connected and sharing my journey, especially through the women’s connect group at my church. We all go through struggles in our lives, and my hope is that by sharing mine, it’ll help people to see their own challenges in a better light and to know they’re not alone or stuck. I know there’s an end to this.
It wasn’t just my church community, either. Once I decided to overcome my habit of cutting myself off from others, I was surprised at how vast this community travelled. More and more people outside of my church, outside of my faith, have come to walk alongside me. They send texts, stop by, bring me meals, go for walks with me, and even attend appointments. It has been really uplifting, encouraging, and inspiring. I feel held and supported.
This community extends to Look Good Feel Better (LGFB) as well. Losing my hair was a big thing for me. I cried and cried for weeks on end in anticipation. I just turned 61, but I don’t feel old —and I didn’t want to look old, or sick. My hair started falling out just two days before my LGFB workshop. I felt really shut down. I almost didn’t go. But I’m so glad I did, because the workshop really helped me get through it.
I loved how the volunteer talked about hair loss — so calmly, so casually. She’d rip off her wig, put on another, and then switch to a bandana. Something opened up in me when she was doing that. It felt so freeing. I realized I was no longer stuck to my hair, and that it was okay that it was gone. My hair falling out felt like the end of the world for me, but the workshop helped me realize that hair is just hair. It doesn’t define who I am. This new perspective changed the entire trajectory of my journey. The workshop gave me my life back, basically. It was so empowering. As a bonus, I’ve been having a lot of fun with wigs, trying different hair styles and colours.
My positive mindset has really helped me through this journey. Prayer, connection, community — these have been instrumental. And I really do treat this as a journey — not just a medical, physical journey but also a mental, spiritual, soul-deep transformation. I don’t have to worry about the unwelcome intruder in my body because that’s what my medical team does. My responsibility is to make sure that I’m staying as healthy as possible, physically and mentally. I’m not just focusing on the cancer, but on making myself better.
