To my 24-year-old self, and my fellow 20-somethings:
Breast cancer? That’s a worry for women my mom’s age. At least that’s what I used to think. At age 24, I had just gotten engaged, was planning to start a future with the man I love and raise a family. I was feeling invincible and full of joy, energy and anticipation.
The day after my 24th birthday, however, a diagnosis of breast cancer changed my life forever. That was the day I found out the lump in my breast was a stage 2A tumor. At that moment, it felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, along with the future my fiancé, Nathan, and I were planning together. The sadness was unimaginable. This obviously was not something I had ever expected to deal with.
But what I discovered in the midst of all of this was how much I wanted to live and how tough I could be in a fight against an enemy that had invaded not just my body, but my entire life. I learned how much tougher I had to be to not just win a battle, but win the war. And make no mistake, this is war.
As I went into treatment, Nathan gave me strength and continues to do so. In the worst moments ― when I was sick from the chemotherapy and losing my hair ― he was always there smiling, making me laugh, pushing forward and telling me I was beautiful. He forced me to live and focus on the future, despite the pain we were both feeling. He refused to let it define me ― and us.
Then the cancer came back in 2015. Devastated only begins to describe how we felt. It was like running the fastest race possible and still losing. Again we would face cancer and fight together. To keep our spirits high, we would dance before each treatment session at The Ohio State University Comprehensive Cancer Center – Arthur G. James Cancer Hospital and Richard J. Solove Research Institute. If I was too weak to move, Nathan would dance by himself in front of me, doing whatever it took to make me smile and be strong. He knew in his heart that I was a fighter and that cancer could knock me down, but not out.
I may have cancer, but it will never have me. Six years after my first diagnosis, we still own our future and that’s why we fight.
That includes our plans to have a family. Cancer delayed those plans at first. But before my first cancer treatment, I decided to harvest and freeze my eggs to protect them from the effects of chemotherapy. Because our cancer fight goes on, we will seek a surrogate who can help us have the child we have always planned and hoped for. Cancer will not stop us from raising a family.
We are not alone in our fight. Breast cancer is the number one cancer in women worldwide, with 1.7 million new cases each year. It’s estimated that 246,660 of those yearly diagnoses are expected in women in the United States. However, the average 5-year survival rate in the US for women who have stage I, II or III breast cancer is anywhere from 72 to 100 percent. This is because women fight, just as Nathan and I do every day. We fight for the next day, month and year. And so should you, if you are among those who’ve also had their world turned upside down by this terrible disease.
Cancer isn’t fair. It never is. But it doesn’t know the size of the fight in me or Nathan...or you.
