When I was first diagnosed the main thing I kept thinking repeatedly was: this couldn't have happened at a worse time, literally. I was engaged and planning my wedding, had just started running 5Ks and was in the best shape of my life. I was, and am, still very mad. That at 26 and in the prime of my life, and planning the happiest event in my life, that this happened ... to me. Then, only a few days before my mastectomy surgery, as Sean and I were meeting with the Rabbi for one of our pre-wedding meetings, something occured to me. I first thought this couldn't have happened at a worse time. What if, on the contrary, this couldn't have happened at a better time? At that moment the part of me that always lifts myself up, shined through.
Nobody knows why things happen to certain people at certain times. There is no reason. None of it makes sense. But I have to believe in something to get me through this, so I believe that this happened for a reason. I may not know the reason until tomorrow, or 10 years from now, or ever. But this happened to me, and it happened when it did, because of something.
Maybe I got breast cancer when I did BECAUSE I'm planning my wedding. Anticipating the wedding and pre-wedding parties will keep me going, and will give me something to look forward to.
Maybe I got the breast cancer when I did BECAUSE I'm engaged. Instead of one supportive, loving family, I have two. Instead of just me, I have Sean. There's both of us, and two are stronger than one. There's two families now, and two are stronger than one.
This is what I choose to believe. I believe things happen for a reason because it gives me hope that this "thing" didn't just fall upon me in this unfair world for absolutely no reason, that there, somehow, is some reason I got this disease. To fight for myself, to become stronger, to raise awareness, to gain a new perspective on life. Who knows.
I have to have something to believe in because if I don't, breast cancer just happened to me. And that's it. And that's unfair. Bad things shouldn't just happen to good people. If they're going to happen, there needs to be something more to it. If I do have something to believe in, it happened to me for something. It doesn't really matter if I ever figure out why, I just have to trust that there is a reason, and that keeps me going.
I often think what my life, and this wedding planning, would be like if I never got breast cancer, and honestly, I can't imagine it. This diagnosis has become a part of the "plan" now; yes, it's factored into everything I do. There are surgeries, anxieties, pain, cosmetic changes, etc., but it also has become part of my story, just like the Leukemia did. And now, whether it's good or bad, I can't imagine my life without breast cancer. That's because I think it's already shaped me a little bit. It doesn't mean I don't have hard days, because I do, and it doesn't mean I don't think this is terribly unfair and sad, because I do. It just means that I'm a little bit different because of all this, and when it's all over, I'll be a little bit more different.
I'm not sure if the words even make sense, but planning my wedding while coping with breast cancer has given me a few things. At first it was despair. And maybe it's still despair. But I also feel a little bit of an "umph." Like a small power surge. I'm not sure if it's strength or the urge to get through this so I can move on.
Either way, I have to look at this as having some sort of meaning behind it. Instead of being angry, recognize that I'll be better because of this, somehow, someway.
Maybe I can blame the Leukemia for having something to do with the breast cancer. Or, I can thank it for making me more conscious about my health. Maybe I can blame it for making me grow up faster than normal. Or I can thank it for making me appreciate life. I can blame it for making me miss my 7th grade year of school. Or thank it for it teaching me me I can fight, and am strong. Or blame it because of possible health complications in the future. Or thank it for giving me an interesting story to tell.
Will these things happen with the breast cancer? Will I ever be able to "thank" it? I don't know. It's too soon to tell. I am, though, less "mad at it" than I first was. Maybe that means something. It's not so much about "thanking" the bad things for bringing about possible "good" things; it's about seeing the best in every situation. Bad things will happen regardless. It's how we deal with them that make a difference.
I will admit that sometimes I get upset at the thought that I've been through more at my age than most people go through in a lifetime. I get upset (see, I'm not using the word "mad" because I don't wish illness upon anybody) that the things I have to deal with are obscure, distant and far-off to most people; they don't, and would never understand what I've been through because they've been lucky to be healthy. Like I said, I would never wish what I have dealt with upon anybody, and I don't believe people have to actually go through certain things to care for me and be there for me, and maybe even understand what I'm feeling. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't make any sense why I would have cancer twice in my life before the age of 27 when many people never get cancer at all. But I know too well that no matter who actually gets cancer and who doesn't, that cancer affects all of us. Everybody knows somebody who's had it. But why me, and why twice? That seems a little (ok, a lot) excessive, and sometimes it makes me mad and sometimes it makes me feel strong and like a hero.
I don't want anyone to ever get sick, ever. I pray every night for the health, happiness and safety of each and every single friend and family member of mine. And I truly believe, no matter which of my friends or family has been directly affected by cancer or another terrible illness, that they are so compassionate and empathetic that they, too, feel my pain. When I'm hurting, they are hurting. I believe people who love me so much can actually FEEL what I'm going through.
There's really no use in being angry about the things you cannot control. Sure, it's hard to find the good in things and easy to question why certain things happen to certain people at certain times. Things just happen. They just do. I want to learn from all of this, anything and everything I can, and to become a better person, no matter what it takes. We have two choices when it comes to the things that happen to us. We can accept them or fight them. We can dwell or we can move on. We can turn the bad things worse, or we can find the good in them. Deep down I store a lot of good in my heart, and I think now is the time to pull it out, even, and especially, in the face of breast cancer.
One of my favorite quotes to date, by Plato, is: "Be Kind. For every man you meet is fighting a harder battle." I often say this to myself when dealing with strangers. I don't know what they're going through today, or what they've been through yesterday. Just by looking at their faces I can not begin to comprehend the emotional or physical pain they are in. I don't know their story. Everybody has had something bad happen to them, whether or not other people believe it to be a big or small thing. People's pain and tragedy is measured only by themselves; it's up to nobody else to decide what is hard and what is easy to go through. When people look at me, if they don't know anything about me, they would never guess that I am fighting cancer a second time. But they may also never guess that I've got such a magnificent, wonderful life and phenomenal people that surround me every day, that help guide me and lift me up. I wouldn't want other people to judge what I've been through based on what I look like on the outside, so I try not to judge other people in return. It's hard to remember this as I go through this terrible thing, and it's hard because I imagine these strangers I deal with have never been touched by what I'm going through. But I don't know if that's true or not. And frankly, it doesn't really matter. So I shouldn't assume. Maybe their clothes and appearance are good, and they are smiling and they are energetic for the same reason that I am. Not because they haven't been touched by tragedy, but because they keep going in spite of it.
Nobody knows why things happen to certain people at certain times. There is no reason. None of it makes sense. But I have to believe in something to get me through this, so I believe that this happened for a reason. I may not know the reason until tomorrow, or 10 years from now, or ever. But this happened to me, and it happened when it did, because of something.
Maybe I got breast cancer when I did BECAUSE I'm planning my wedding. Anticipating the wedding and pre-wedding parties will keep me going, and will give me something to look forward to.
Maybe I got the breast cancer when I did BECAUSE I'm engaged. Instead of one supportive, loving family, I have two. Instead of just me, I have Sean. There's both of us, and two are stronger than one. There's two families now, and two are stronger than one.
This is what I choose to believe. I believe things happen for a reason because it gives me hope that this "thing" didn't just fall upon me in this unfair world for absolutely no reason, that there, somehow, is some reason I got this disease. To fight for myself, to become stronger, to raise awareness, to gain a new perspective on life. Who knows.
I have to have something to believe in because if I don't, breast cancer just happened to me. And that's it. And that's unfair. Bad things shouldn't just happen to good people. If they're going to happen, there needs to be something more to it. If I do have something to believe in, it happened to me for something. It doesn't really matter if I ever figure out why, I just have to trust that there is a reason, and that keeps me going.
I often think what my life, and this wedding planning, would be like if I never got breast cancer, and honestly, I can't imagine it. This diagnosis has become a part of the "plan" now; yes, it's factored into everything I do. There are surgeries, anxieties, pain, cosmetic changes, etc., but it also has become part of my story, just like the Leukemia did. And now, whether it's good or bad, I can't imagine my life without breast cancer. That's because I think it's already shaped me a little bit. It doesn't mean I don't have hard days, because I do, and it doesn't mean I don't think this is terribly unfair and sad, because I do. It just means that I'm a little bit different because of all this, and when it's all over, I'll be a little bit more different.
I'm not sure if the words even make sense, but planning my wedding while coping with breast cancer has given me a few things. At first it was despair. And maybe it's still despair. But I also feel a little bit of an "umph." Like a small power surge. I'm not sure if it's strength or the urge to get through this so I can move on.
Either way, I have to look at this as having some sort of meaning behind it. Instead of being angry, recognize that I'll be better because of this, somehow, someway.
Maybe I can blame the Leukemia for having something to do with the breast cancer. Or, I can thank it for making me more conscious about my health. Maybe I can blame it for making me grow up faster than normal. Or I can thank it for making me appreciate life. I can blame it for making me miss my 7th grade year of school. Or thank it for it teaching me me I can fight, and am strong. Or blame it because of possible health complications in the future. Or thank it for giving me an interesting story to tell.
Will these things happen with the breast cancer? Will I ever be able to "thank" it? I don't know. It's too soon to tell. I am, though, less "mad at it" than I first was. Maybe that means something. It's not so much about "thanking" the bad things for bringing about possible "good" things; it's about seeing the best in every situation. Bad things will happen regardless. It's how we deal with them that make a difference.
I will admit that sometimes I get upset at the thought that I've been through more at my age than most people go through in a lifetime. I get upset (see, I'm not using the word "mad" because I don't wish illness upon anybody) that the things I have to deal with are obscure, distant and far-off to most people; they don't, and would never understand what I've been through because they've been lucky to be healthy. Like I said, I would never wish what I have dealt with upon anybody, and I don't believe people have to actually go through certain things to care for me and be there for me, and maybe even understand what I'm feeling. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't make any sense why I would have cancer twice in my life before the age of 27 when many people never get cancer at all. But I know too well that no matter who actually gets cancer and who doesn't, that cancer affects all of us. Everybody knows somebody who's had it. But why me, and why twice? That seems a little (ok, a lot) excessive, and sometimes it makes me mad and sometimes it makes me feel strong and like a hero.
I don't want anyone to ever get sick, ever. I pray every night for the health, happiness and safety of each and every single friend and family member of mine. And I truly believe, no matter which of my friends or family has been directly affected by cancer or another terrible illness, that they are so compassionate and empathetic that they, too, feel my pain. When I'm hurting, they are hurting. I believe people who love me so much can actually FEEL what I'm going through.
There's really no use in being angry about the things you cannot control. Sure, it's hard to find the good in things and easy to question why certain things happen to certain people at certain times. Things just happen. They just do. I want to learn from all of this, anything and everything I can, and to become a better person, no matter what it takes. We have two choices when it comes to the things that happen to us. We can accept them or fight them. We can dwell or we can move on. We can turn the bad things worse, or we can find the good in them. Deep down I store a lot of good in my heart, and I think now is the time to pull it out, even, and especially, in the face of breast cancer.
One of my favorite quotes to date, by Plato, is: "Be Kind. For every man you meet is fighting a harder battle." I often say this to myself when dealing with strangers. I don't know what they're going through today, or what they've been through yesterday. Just by looking at their faces I can not begin to comprehend the emotional or physical pain they are in. I don't know their story. Everybody has had something bad happen to them, whether or not other people believe it to be a big or small thing. People's pain and tragedy is measured only by themselves; it's up to nobody else to decide what is hard and what is easy to go through. When people look at me, if they don't know anything about me, they would never guess that I am fighting cancer a second time. But they may also never guess that I've got such a magnificent, wonderful life and phenomenal people that surround me every day, that help guide me and lift me up. I wouldn't want other people to judge what I've been through based on what I look like on the outside, so I try not to judge other people in return. It's hard to remember this as I go through this terrible thing, and it's hard because I imagine these strangers I deal with have never been touched by what I'm going through. But I don't know if that's true or not. And frankly, it doesn't really matter. So I shouldn't assume. Maybe their clothes and appearance are good, and they are smiling and they are energetic for the same reason that I am. Not because they haven't been touched by tragedy, but because they keep going in spite of it.
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