I Won a PINK E-Bike!
In October, I submitted a creative piece of writing that answered the prompt, “How has cancer changed your life?” My first thorugh was, “How much time do you have?” Considering Lectric Bikes is a very popular brand and I wanted to stand out, I submitted the essay below called, “Cancer Came and Sat on My Bench.” It describes my relationship to cancer. Luckily for me, the team loved it and I WON AN E-BIKE! As an outdoor lover and adventorer at heart, I see myself using this bike in a million ways. And the bike is on brand as it’s PINK! Check out my submission below, my reaction video here and thanks again Lectric Bikes! Major congratulations to my fellow winners, Susie and Danielle, whose stories were incredible (read them here).
Cancer Came and Sat on My Bench
On October 14, 2021, I arrived at my usual spot. It's a park bench at the edge of this beautiful lake I can ride my bike to from my home. Deep into fall, I smelled the leafy air, gazed across the lake water and breathed in the cotton candy sunrise. This is one of my favorite spots to relax, be alone and think about life as I had just turned 30 two months prior.
On this particular day, a beautiful stranger asked to share the space with me, so I scooted over to allow her to sit at the opposite end of the bench. I'm a friendly gal, so I easily let her in. After a few moments of silence, she moved towards me, neck extended and whispered an awful secret in my ear.
"You have breast cancer," she said.
As I recoiled in disbelief, I noticed my hands, feet and seat became frozen to the bench. This little secret shook me to my core. Thoughts raced through my head as I remembered all the kale I've eaten, the marathon I ran less than a year prior and the way I prioritize my health. What she said was impossible. As the kids say, the math was not mathing.
She assured me she wasn't lying and quickly began asking for my breasts, head of hair and slashed me open with wounds soon to be countless scars. Although I was no longer frozen, I couldn't find the energy to move. I let her cut me, I handed over my breasts and full head of gorgeous hair.
What is going on here? I don't even know this stranger, yet she audaciously demanded all of this from me and I just went along with it?
She told me I'd have to stay seated here with her for a year. A year!? I don't have time for that. I just entered a new decade, bought a house and got married. I have plans. She seemed so relaxed and responded, "You had plans. Unfortunately for you, I don't work on your timeline."
So, we sat. For just under a year, 363 days to be exact. How could this beautiful stranger next to me invade a space so vulnerable and familiar, yet be wrecking me from the inside out? We sat there through IVF, a bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation and medications. She remained still as I endured the challenges of it all.
Every once in a while she would teach me things like meditating, being mindful and what it really means to be grateful to be alive. She introduced me to the work of Thich Nhat Hahn and the art of kintsugi. When my legs became restless, she assured me rest was productive. And so we sat. And sat. And sat.
Finally, she asked me if I was ready to go. I replied, "YES!" and stood up immediately. Her strong hand reached up and sat me back down. She warned me returning to my life would be familiar, yet different.
“What you went through wasn't normal, especially for your age. By now, people have moved on. The world kept spinning. Walk lightly and take your time,” she assured me. “There's no need to rush life when you just survived this fight.”
She offered her hand out and helped me stand. As we embraced, she felt so warm and comforting, for a moment I doubted leaving. What we shared was brutal, but now this home between us over 363 days felt familiar and comfortable. Nonetheless, I moved on.
Now when I return to this park bench, she appears in many forms. Sometimes she's so faint I can barely see her and sometimes she's as vibrant as the day I met her. In whatever way she shows up, I continue to breathe in the air I almost lost and appreciate what I have now. Because the truth is, I am better for meeting her. I just keep her at an arm's length now. She has her side of the bench, and I have mine.
