Anyone who has read my advice knows that I don’t suggest posting photos of yourself in bathing suits or other skimpy attire online because you never know who might find it or consider it inappropriate. It’s not that skimpy, but I am still sort of breaking one of my rules by posting me in my bathing suit, but I’m doing it anyway.
The gentle arm twisters who told me it would be a powerful statement, who said it could help someone else, and, especially, a friend and colleague who told me that it was helping carry her as she starts her own journey with breast cancer, convinced me that sharing it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Despite the fact that I really don't like having my picture taken, let alone in a bathing suit!
Besides the hope that it will show there is life after a cancer diagnosis, I was so thrilled to be on the beach in Florida looking presentable in any sort of bathing suit six months after that mammogram that was iffy, with three surgeries down, and two to go, that I wanted to share.
I was diagnosed with DCIS (very early stage breast cancer) that a lumpectomy was supposed to take care of it. It was more widespread (didn’t show on imaging) than expected and that led to lumpectomy number two. Same story that time around, which led to a mastectomy and reconstruction, which is what I’m in the middle of right now.
This has been quite the journey, but, as strange as it may sound it’s been mostly a really positive journey. Other than a couple of meltdowns i.e. I don’t want to do this anymore, it’s been a lesson learnt in living my life and living with a diagnosis which could have brought my life to a screeching halt, if I let it, that instead taught me that I better get going on doing all the good stuff.
My dad has been my inspiration through all this. When diagnosed with pancreatic cancer he said that it was a gift, in some ways. He could have dropped dead of a heart attack or got hit by a truck, he said. Instead, the time was precious, because he knew that it was probably going to be short. We, as a family, packed more in those five short months from diagnosis to his leaving us, than we would have if we hadn’t of known what was probably coming. None of us know how long we have, so his philosophy is a good one, regardless of how young or old or healthy or sick you are.
For me, my journey has been much more good than bad, as odd as that may sound. I have learned who loves me and cares about me – way more people than I ever expected. I have learned that my husband Mike, who is a ski writer, is my hero. Who would have thought he would be up to draining drains and changing dressings? Our kids helped, too, as did friends I couldn't have gotten through this without.
He also didn’t let me stop and feel sorry for myself. Good ski wife that I am we spent this season, post diagnosis, in Park City, Breckenridge, Vail, North Lake Tahoe, South LakeTahoe, Stowe, Smugglers’ Notch, Killington, Switzerland and France. Skiing is his life and I wasn’t going to take that from him if I could help it and the mountains bring me peace. And peace I needed. So, we juggled surgeries around the Alps, the Wasatch, the Rockies, and the mountains in between.
I have wonderful doctors and have met terrific caregivers along the way. I’ve also heard some great career stories, all of which brightened what could have been gloomy days.
I also never stopped working – my work is my life in a lot of ways. Helping job seekers, working on my site and my books, and hoping to make a bit of a difference in someone else’s life is healing. So, I don't think I took more than a couple of "sick" days and I've updated a book, wrote a new one, and continued to give job search and career advice on my site.
I never stopped laughing either. Some of this journey, believe it or not, has been funny and laughter is good for you. One moment I remember is how excited I was at a follow-up appointment with my surgeon and I wanted to show everyone how good I looked. I am more than happy to show anyone who wants to look what after looks like ;) Those times are when I realized I was a glass half full person - I was happy to have a reconstructed breast, rather than bemoaning the original one that was no longer with me.
If there is any lesson in this, it’s not to let any diagnosis get you down. Live your life, as I’ve said in a different context i.e. the time we spend at work, because we only have one shot it at. So make it as meaningful and as joyful as you can.
I have, during this journey, heard from people who are afraid to get a mammogram because they don’t want to get squished, are afraid it might hurt, or don’t want to know if there’s something bad, or don’t want to contemplate losing a breast or two. The alternative is much worse.
And, even doing all the right screening things, cancer still can find you. However, sooner is always better than later when it comes to diagnostics and the earlier you are diagnosed the better chance of a full recovery.
So, if you’ve gotten this far and you are behind on your mammograms. Get one. Call today. Don’t wait.
Finally, my heartfelt thanks to my family, friends, colleagues, doctors, nurses, and other health care providers who have been with me every step of the way and will be with me the rest of the way, as well. I couldn't have done it without your love, support, kindness, and caring.
