IS CANCER THE BEST OR WORST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME?
A few weeks ago while driving to work, something caught my attention and caused me to audibly gasp. While stopped at the Keystone exit of 465, I saw it. What appeared to be an everyday advertisement on a rotating billboard, suddenly changed to reveal… MY FACE!
“Oh my gosh, there it is!” The patient story campaign I shot with my cancer center months ago was live. As my mind embraced what I just saw, my thoughts turned to a cyclical trap I often find myself in, “Is cancer the best or worst thing that ever happened to me?”
At this moment, it’s the best. Who gets the opportunity to be on billboards around the city just for enduring cancer? It is an honor and privilege to represent Community North MD Anderson Cancer Center and be a sign of hope for those just like me. Yet in the next moment when I’m stressing over unpaid medical bills and feeling uncomfortable in a body still new to me since enduring all the treatment, surgeries and continued medication, it’s the worst.
In 2021, my husband and I were skipping through the game of life after marrying and buying our first home, check and check. This two-dimensional game board we were “winning” suddenly turned three-dimensional when we hit what felt like a trap door to endless darkness, my cancer diagnosis. In the year following, I would endure IVF, a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction, six months of chemotherapy and six weeks of radiation. Cancer is the worst thing to ever happen to me.
It felt like I was an Indy car driver speeding through treatment while swerving oncoming side effects, all with no prior training or even desire to enter the race in the first place! Luckily, my pit stop crew was made up of family, friends and acquaintances turned supporters who lined the track with high fives, cards and enough donations to get Jacob and I through the first year without any medical debt. I saved every card and fit them into an overflowing pink binder. I often refer back to them as I continue to face the struggles of adjusting to life after cancer. Cards with phrases like, “Keep going, future you will be so proud” remind me how far I’ve come and how loved I am. Cancer is the best thing to ever happen to me.
While each cancer journey is unique with many variables, my journey had one consistency - the level of care I received at Community North MD Anderson Cancer Center. From asking my OBGYN to check out a lump I found to ringing the bell, Community North was responsible for every step of my road to remission. For as many times as I’ve dreaded walking up to that building for another round of chemotherapy, there are almost an equal amount of times where I’ve walked out feeling relieved and at peace thanks to my care team. I’ve even left in happy tears. I’ve made my oncologist spell, define, redefine and sometimes even draw up pictures all to help me understand this medical world I was unwillingly thrust into. Not once has she or anyone at Community, whether it was a scheduler, nurse, technician or doctor, had one foot out of the door. They’ve stayed beyond appointment times, listened and always gone above and beyond to relieve my worries.
As I’ve transitioned from a patient in active treatment to a cancer survivor over the past two years, I visit Community less and less. When I see those billboards, or someone texts that they saw my TV commercial, or the sound of my own voice comes through the radio waves, I pinch myself and think of all the appointments, fears and chapters of my life associated with Community. Instead of the cyclical mental trap I described earlier, what now comes to mind now is the quote, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
I’m content in knowing that while cancer is one of the worst things to ever happen to be, Community North MD Anderson Cancer Center is absolutely one of the best.
