You Know My Diagnosis. But Do You Know Me?
The Life, Love, Loss, and Woman Behind My Bilateral Breast Cancer Diagnosis
I am a 54-year-old woman who was diagnosed with bilateral breast cancer.
That is the sentence that probably brought many of you here.
But before I became a woman with a cancer diagnosis, I was—and still am—so much more than that.
I have lived 54 years. I have made mistakes. I have loved deeply. I have lost people I never thought I would have to live without. I have struggled with depression, infertility, grief, relationships, motherhood, and my own insecurities.
And now, I am facing breast cancer.
But cancer is only one chapter of my story.
Before I Was a Wife and Mother
In my younger years, I was a little more “free-spirited.”
At 27, I packed a bag and boarded a Greyhound bus to meet a man I had met on the internet.
Yes, you read that correctly.
A Greyhound bus.
For a man I had met online.
Ultimately, he and I got married and started our life together.
When I decided I wanted to have a baby, things changed. I hadn't really settled down, but I convinced myself that I had.
He and I were married for about six years, and during that time, we struggled to conceive.
Meanwhile, everyone around me seemed to be having babies like it was their job.
For me, the struggle with infertility led to depression. I would stay in bed for days at a time.
For him, it eventually led him into the arms of another woman.
I had found a new apartment before he even returned from his trip.
At the time, I was working as an operator for Northwest Airlines. I had become friendly with a woman I worked with, and her husband had worked at 3M in New Ulm for a while. While he was there, he had befriended a man named Kevin.
So, they set us up.
Kevin and I had dinner and drinks with them, and it was a very nice night.
Kevin and I have been together ever since.
That was in 2006.
Then Came My Son
Thirteen months later, after years of struggling with infertility, I found out I was pregnant.
Surprise!
In 2007, my son was born, and from that point on, I was different.
I stopped drinking and running around. I couldn't be the kind of mom I wanted to be with a hangover.
All of a sudden, my life changed.
I felt whole.
It was as if the missing piece of me had finally been found.
Suddenly, I had this little man who ruled my world.
I slept when he slept.
I ran when he ran.
It was crazy.
Instead of going to the bar with my friends on a Friday night, I was working toward getting him the newest Thomas the Tank Engine rug so he could drive his trains around.
I was looking for the best Spider-Man set for his bedroom.
He was my world.
Everything I did, I did for him.
Hearing his laughter and seeing him smile made everything worth it.
He was officially the best part of me.
Marriage, Life, and the Reality of Being a Couple
Kevin and I were married in 2009.
And I would be lying if I said our life together has been all roses and date nights.
Hell, most nights, we're barely speaking to each other.
He's a little older than I am, so there is a slight generation gap that we deal with. And when my emotions get the best of me—which, if I'm being completely honest, happens daily—I tell him I want a divorce.
But here we are.
Twenty years later.
Not divorced.
And as happy as I suppose any real couple is.
We may just deal with stress differently than the average bear. :-)
The truth is, real relationships aren't always romantic dinners and perfect conversations. Sometimes they are disagreements, silence, frustration, and two people trying to figure out how to keep moving forward together.
Sometimes love looks a lot less like a fairy tale and a lot more like surviving life together.
Being a Mom
My son didn't go to daycare.
I was fortunate enough to have a very, very close friend and both my mom and dad available to care for him while I was at work.
And work I did.
I went back to work before he was even two weeks old.
But I made sure he was not with a “sitter.”
Even when the sitter was family, unless I was working, attending a funeral, or doing something like Christmas shopping, I wanted him with me.
I always felt that he was mine.
He spent enough time with “sitters”—even if they were family.
He needed to be with me.
Looking back, I know that may sound intense to some people.
But he was my whole world.
I had waited so long for him.
After years of infertility and depression, I finally had the child I had dreamed of. I wanted to be there for everything.
The laughter.
The tears.
The messy moments.
The milestones.
The ordinary days.
All of it.
Losing My Mom
My mom had heart problems and kidney disease.
My mom and I had a complicated relationship.
I was not an easy child to raise.
I fought with her verbally, emotionally, and yes, even physically.
I don't make many excuses for that.
I was then—and still am today—trying to figure out life. I have struggled with poor self-esteem and insecurity issues for much of my life.
But she was my mom.
And I loved her nonetheless.
Sadly, she passed away in 2014.
My little man was seven years old and experiencing death for the second time in his young life.
I don't think anyone is ever truly prepared to lose their mother.
Even when the relationship is complicated.
Even when there are unresolved issues.
Even when there have been arguments and hurt feelings.
She is still your mom.
And losing her leaves a hole that doesn't simply disappear.
My Dad Was My Dad Because He Wanted to Be
My dad is actually my stepdad.
My mom and my biological father simply couldn't stay together. I don't know the real reasons why. Every family member seemed to have their own version of the story.
My mom blamed his truck driving, I think.
His family blamed my mom.
My mom's family blamed him.
I never had the courage to ask my biological dad why they separated.
He left when I was young—around seven, I think.
I met him again when I was 17, but we didn't see eye to eye either.
He died when I was 19.
My stepdad, though?
Man, he was the best.
He took care of me through everything I went through growing up, including residential treatment centers and countless difficult appointments.
He supported two children who were not biologically his.
My dad was my dad because he wanted to be—not because he had to be.
That distinction has always mattered to me.
Losing My Dad
About a year or so after my mom passed away, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma.
That became a multi-year, hard-fought battle.
And just as he had stood by me through all those years, I was right there with him through every stop along his journey.
Even when I didn't agree with his decisions.
When his cancer spread into his pancreas, the doctors told him they didn't believe they would be able to treat it with any kind of successful result.
He chose hospice instead of continuing treatment.
In the middle to the end of January, my dad went on hospice.
He came home on a Monday.
He was gone before 2 a.m. the following Monday.
My not-so-little little man was 16 at the time, and I think—even though he didn't show it—this death hit him very hard.
He and Papa were so close.
Some losses change you.
That was one of them.
My Son Today
My son is now 18.
He is a high school graduate who is finding his footing in the digital world and figuring out who he is and where he wants to go.
When I sat down and told him that doctors suspected I had breast cancer, I saw his shoulders physically slump.
I will never forget that moment.
He has been an incredible support for me.
He talks to me about religion, God, and life. He helps me see things in a less hostile way. My son helps me look at things differently.
That is something I never expected when he was the little boy driving his Thomas trains around the living room.
I thought I was supposed to teach him everything.
But somewhere along the way, he started teaching me things too.
The Creative Side of Me
For as long as I can remember, I have always been someone who likes to create.
I have tried a lot of different things over the years.
I have worked with sublimation, creating customized items and turning ordinary products into something personal and unique. I have explored DTF printing, which opened up even more creative possibilities.
I have worked with epoxy.
I have made jewelry with polymer clay.
I have tried different crafts, different products, and different business ideas.
Some things stuck around for a while.
Some things didn't.
And that's okay.
I think one of the things that makes me who I am is that I am always willing to try something new.
I have never been the person who can simply sit still and do one thing forever.
My interests evolve.
My ideas change.
I learn.
I experiment.
Sometimes I succeed.
Sometimes I fail spectacularly.
But I keep trying.
Eventually, all of those creative interests and experiences led me to Alluring Tranquility.
Alluring Tranquility became more than just another business idea.
It became something that felt like me.
Today, Alluring Tranquility focuses on skincare products, allowing me to combine creativity, self-care, and the desire to create something people can enjoy.
But the business has also grown beyond products.
Alluring Tranquility has a podcast as well, giving me another way to connect with people, share stories, have conversations, and explore the things that matter to me.
In many ways, Alluring Tranquility is another reflection of who I am.
It is creative.
It is constantly evolving.
It is a little bit messy.
It is sometimes overwhelming.
And it is something I continue to build one step at a time.
I have spent a lot of my life trying different things and figuring out what fits.
I suppose that is still what I am doing.
I am still figuring out who I am.
I am still creating.
I am still learning.
I am still building.
Even now, while facing cancer, I am still a woman with dreams, ideas, and things I want to do.
Cancer did not erase the creative part of me.
It did not erase the business owner in me.
It did not erase the woman who likes to make things, try new things, and imagine what might be possible.
That woman is still here.
So, This Is Me
I am 54 years old.
I am a wife.
A mother.
A daughter.
A stepdaughter.
A business owner.
A creator.
A woman who has experienced love, loss, infertility, depression, grief, complicated relationships, motherhood, marriage, death, and now cancer.
I have made mistakes.
I have been difficult.
I have been broken.
I have been healed.
I have been lost.
And I am still figuring things out.
I have loved people deeply.
I have lost people.
I have survived things I never thought I would survive.
I have created things with my hands.
I have built businesses.
I have tried new things.
I have started over.
And now, I am facing something else I never asked for.
Cancer.
But I am not just the woman with bilateral breast cancer.
I am not just the woman writing about diagnoses, scans, appointments, fear, and treatment.
I am a whole person.
I am the life that came before the cancer.
I am 54 years of memories, mistakes, love, loss, grief, laughter, motherhood, marriage, creativity, entrepreneurship, and survival.
This is who I am.
This is the woman behind the diagnosis.
This is me as a whole.
Add comment
Comments