New York–September 22, 2009–My survivor story begins much earlier than my cancer diagnosis. It begins during childhood.    I grew up with a father who was an abusive alcoholic.  I struggled with our relationship for most of my life.  The bright spot of my teenage years was meeting Paul when I was 15.  Little did I know then that we would marry some day.  That day came when I was 23.  Sadly though I became a widow at 25.  Paul and his brother were both killed in a car accident. Seven years later just as I was feeling comfortable with the dating scene and  hoping to find love again I found a lump in my left breast.  I was only 31 and thought there was no way it could be cancer.  I had been through enough in my life.  I was terrified.  I waited 2 months before I went to a doctor probably out of denial and intense fear.  I was also working as an OT so I was all too familiar with  the medical field as well as the healthcare system.

The man I was dating at the time was not supportive at all.  When I shared with him that I had found a lump his response was “Don’t worry, its probably just fat…you look like you gained weight.”  As I wondered what I was doing with him I got myself to the doctor.  I heard the typical “You’re too young, don’t worry its not cancer”  mantra that all too many young adults hear.  Luckily he sent me for my first mammo that showed something funky which lead to a biopsy.  I was lucky they removed the entire mass because my lump was 4 cm and only 1 cm was the cancer.  It was hidden inside a fatty lump.  That  was the only way I found it.  For the first time I felt grateful for  fat!

I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma in May of 2001.  I was grateful it was caught early.  So while  I was working full time as an OT and scheduling dates with guys I had met online  I was scheduling doctor appointments and surgery.  I opted for a mastectomy when a lumpectomy was recommended.  It was what I felt comfortable with.  There was a little voice inside that was telling me that was best route to take.  I underwent 10 hours of surgery at Sloan-Kettering for a mastectomy with immediate TRAM flap reconstruction.  My belly fat was used to create a new breast.  At least I walked away with a free tummy tuck.  I spent 7 days in the hospital and learned a lot about being on the other side of the bed as a patient.  I would never look at my job the same again.  It certainly was a reality check in more ways than one.

On the day I returned home to my apartment the doctor called with good news.  I only had traces of cancer in one lymph node.  I spent 3 months out of work to heal from my reconstruction and somehow continued dating.  I began an aggressive course of chemo for 6 months.  I continued to work through all of my treatments taking only a couple of days off for chemo every 3 weeks.  The hair loss was harder for me than losing my breast.  I think I felt that way because it was easier to hide my breast than my bald head.  It was when I really felt like a cancer patient.

The dating became much more difficult when I lost my hair.  I struggled with disclosure issues as well as plummeting body image.  Initially before my treament I hid my cancer from the guys I was dating.  Then once my hair started to fall out I knew I had to fess up sooner rather than later. I was scared of rejection, embarrassed by my bald head and scarred boob.  I certainly wasn’t feeling sexy.  Menopause from chemo made me feel like an old lady, no longer a sexy single girl.  My dating escapades ranged from the guy who thought because I had cancer I would be an easy booty call to the guy who told me I was lucky he dated “someone like me”.  As difficult as it was dating was a way for me to feel like I was still living a life.  I was trying to be hopeful.

Just as I was finishing up with chemo I gave it one more try.  I met another man online.  His name was Lou.  That first nite we IM’d  I fessed up about my cancer.  Despite all of that he still wanted to meet.  I had found someone who could see past all the scars and my bald head to the person I was.  6 months later we were engaged and celebrated our 6th anniversary on May 31 the same date as my cancer diagnosis.  I am now an 8 year survivor.

As for my dad, unfortunately he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in April of 2007 just after his 59^thbirthday. Sadly he passed away the follow year in June of 2008.  Despite our difficult relationship he was always there for me when I was sick and when I lost my husband.  In the end I was able to forgive him for the past and made amends with him before he died.  It has been tough both as a daughter and as a cancer survivor.

I wrote my first memoir Breastless in the City so that I could share my story and inspire others.  Life shouldn’t stop with a cancer diagnosis.  Despite all the fear the best we can do is keep moving forward and keep living!