Written When Diagnosed

On January 15th, 2024 my life changed forever.

I felt my right breast turn completely solid. I knew something wasn’t right, so I went to my doctor. He scheduled me for an ultrasound and I later had a breast biopsy on 01/31. I received the call on 02/02/24 that I was positive for breast cancer. At my first oncologist appointment I was further diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer! It took all of the wind out of my body. All I could think of was my children. My son is almost 15 and my daughter will be 9 this month. I am a single mother. I thought, “Who will take care of my children if (God forbid) something happens to me? At just 36, how was this possible?! Why me? I can’t fathom leaving my children so young to figure out life. How will I maintain my financial responsibilities? How will I occupy my down time?”

I obtained my Associates degree in Science December ’23, and registered for more classes to further my education. The doctor ordered me to drop my classes and focus on my health. I have been taken off work for up to 1 year. My job does not offer disability benefits.

Anyone who knows me knows that I work hard to provide for my family.

Triple-negative breast cancer is a kind of breast cancer that does not have any of the receptors that are commonly used to target treatment. Black women are more than twice as likely as white women to receive a diagnosis of triple-negative breast cancer. Because the receptors are negative, there are less treatment options. I will get chemotherapy, radiation, and a mastectomy.

One Year Later

365 days of fear, hurt, confusion, inconsistencies, insecurity, anxiety, depression, loneliness, let-downs, lies, anger, promises, medications, suicidal ideations, and new diagnoses.

365 days of: “At least you still have your hair!” “You don’t look sick?” “You’ll be ok!” “At least it’s only breast cancer!” “You complaining and others didn’t make it…” “How are you?” (just to talk about themselves).

The new norm is multiple doctors appointments every week, bruising from bloodwork, and scars from surgeries.

Today is day 1 of me saying surviving isn’t cute, pretty, or exciting; of me saying I am allowed to feel any and every emotion. The constant fears of thinking, “What caused it? What can I do differently? What if I die? Should I just take control? WHY ME?”

I am grateful for another chance at life. I am grateful for my children. I was over them asking me, “You staying home again?” (it was their tone for me). They never saw me stay home before, let alone for months. They were like, “Just go back to work, you’ll be fine!” When things got real, they got scared. Watching me puke uncontrollably, lose my color, and not be able to stay upright. Asking what could they do, but all I could do was close my eyes and pray for healing. My children knew “Mommy” as the worker, provider, and just being Super-Woman. So I am glad they were able to see the weak version of me, able to see me work my way from Stage 3 cancer to cancer-free.

Thank you to everyone that was there for me, from the beginning to the end, especially my best friend. He ain’t miss a beat! Calls, appointments, food, shopping, and just getting me outside. Thank you to a few friends and cousins cleaning the house, laundry, and food as well. Blessed, and nothing is taken for granted.

They say you really never know how people feel about you until you’re sick, have a baby, or lose your job.

I must say, I know who’ll be there for me.