Don't Lose Heart

Suzie’s story isn’t a caregiver’s story, unless you consider that she learned to care about herself. I encouraged her to share her story with us because it’s a story of hope, and because it’s good to know that we can make a big difference in the lives of people we care about, just by caring about them. ~ Jean

The Shoe was on the other foot…

I was 31 years old when I was diagnosed with breast cancer-that was 27 years ago. Amazingly, I’m still here.

I never played the roll of caregiver, but I know what it is like to be the one with the cancer. It’s kind of an exclusive club that you really never wanted to join. Truth be told, it never even occurred to me that I would hear those words spoken to me.

I moved to LA with my X-husband, who already was my X when we moved from a small town in Pennsylvania. (Long story, don’t ask…) The relationship was not going well, (big surprise), but I’m not much of a quitter so I hung in there along with a lot of stress and unhappiness. I knew it needed to end, and apparently a lot of my friends knew it needed to end too, though no one would say that out loud; and yet I remained. And while this “love story” has nothing to do with cancer, in a round about way, it has everything to do with my life with cancer, and afterwards.

My breast cancer was caught very early, I was blessed to have a doctor who had amazing instincts and followed her gut instead of protocol. Since I did not fit any of the usual criteria, I credit her tenacity with saving my life.

Following my doctor’s suspicion, and subsequently finding something-of-concern in my mammogram, I was sent for a biopsy. The biopsy was supposed to be done on an outpatient basis, however they did not anticipate what an incredible lightweight I was when it came to anesthesia. It took me 24 hours to get out of the hospital. But here’s the thing – I did not have results during that 24 hours, but in my heart of hearts I knew I was facing cancer.

I was pretty much out of it the entire time I was in the hospital, but the person who came out of there was not the same person who went in. It wasn’t the haze I was in from the residual of the anesthesia. I was different. I had cancer and I knew it, even though it would be days before it was actually confirmed.

I’m not sure where or what dimension I travelled to when I was given the diagnosis. There was a faint buzz in my ears and everything sort of just faded to black. I really don’t remember what was said, even to this day, but I do remember that sense of having been shot point blank.

Because I did not have an advanced or an aggressive cancer, and because it was caught very early, I had a great advantage over so many other people. Nevertheless, it was tough, and I had to pull it together and move forward.

The other Suzie that came out of the hospital had a whole new view of life, and changes were inevitable. This was my own personal warning shot over the bough; which brings me back to the aforementioned X. Cancer comes in many forms, and I needed to deal with all aspects of it.  It was time.

I ended the relationship with my X within weeks of my diagnosis. And so began a journey of tremendous fear, confusion, loneliness, discovery, as well as making many more hard and emotionally painful choices. At times that split was harder on me than the cancer; ironically however, the cancer gave me the courage to push through it.

But also on that journey, I discovered a strength in myself I didn’t know I had.  The walls that I’d built up in my life that were constructed of stubborn determination to never ask for help, were broken down in the form of love and friendship. I had no family in California, but I was incredibly blessed with a group of friends who held me up, and at times carried me.

In the midst of all this I found love – a healthy, strong, unselfish, compassionate, supportive, big love.  The kind of love I never thought I deserved, before cancer and God gave me a new direction. I opened my eyes to what could be and allowed myself to slowly move on. At times I couldn’t believe that a man like Charlie even existed, and 25 years of marriage later, I still cannot believe how blessed I have been. Cancer was never an issue for him: the scars, the post-surgical “new breast”, the hand-holding through any and all the subsequent biopsies and surgeries never made him back away from me. I know as my caregiver, he had his own fears and frustrations, but he didn’t run, he was and is my rock, and I know he always will be.

Battling cancer is about taking one step at a time and overcoming one obstacle at a time, It is all you can do. With each step you gain knowledge instead of fear-and that is what helps you to fight and to live the best life you can.

My friends have heard me say that getting cancer turned out to be one of the biggest blessings in my life. I was one of the lucky ones, cancer did not take my life, it actually gave me my life. Hard as that is to believe, it was the beginning of such personal growth on so many levels. Cancer has given me countless opportunities to speak to others, to encourage them, to pray for them, and just listen in silent understanding.

You are not alone – that’s the good news and the bad news. But there is always hope, and there is faith and there is prayer and love, and sometimes, even miracles.