How I'm Surviving Cancer
For now, I'll continue to live as I always do. With some little bumps in the road.
Denise Albert did everything you're supposed to do. Her routine mammograms at ages 35 and 40 were clear, as was one last August. "I've been careful. I don't have any family history," says Albert, co-founder of The MOMS. But she received a notification letter last fall about having dense breast tissue. Then in November, she felt a lump in one breast which hurt — a lot. A December ultrasound and biopsy revealed that she tested positive for early stage breast cancer. Because she's been open about divorce, parenting, dating, and much of her life, Albert decided to share her journey through treatment.
My breast cancer diagnosis was shocking. It was upsetting. It was numbing. It was life changing.
It's been two and a half months since I first heard the words that I tested positive for breast cancer. I'm 41. I have two boys, 11 and 7. I call myself a #FullTimeWorkingStayAtHomeMom. I am also an entrepreneur, business owner, and single mom in a happy almost 2-year relationship. He lives in New Jersey with his three kids, but we make it work. I'm understanding love and being part of a team. I have an incredible family and group of friends. I enjoy life.
I am finally happy.
I can't be sick. I have kids to raise. I can't be sick. I have a business I'm growing. I can't be sick. I have so many things we want to do.
I'm the kind of person who thinks I can do it all. Every day. And now, instead of doing it all, my life is becoming doctor appointments, surgery and now chemotherapy.
My diagnosis hit me the hardest an hour before my lumpectomy surgery when the nurse handed me a health care proxy to fill out and sign.
I had been asked to do this at previous doctor appointments and quietly ignored the request. Almost as if it didn't happen. Or wouldn't happen again. But now, as I was about to undergo anesthesia for surgery I lost it.
I couldn't stand the thought of it. I couldn't stand having to think about my kids without me. I couldn't think about who to put in charge. My mom? My boyfriend?
Since I first shared my story, I have been inundated with calls, texts, emails and messages from friends and strangers saying how brave I am. In this moment I didn't feel so brave. Then I re-read some of the emails.
Suzyn Waldman, the Yankees announcer, reached out randomly and said, "Do not try to cover ANY feelings you have; anger, fear, sadness, etc. They are all part of it. Your instinct will be to smile, be strong, and plow through this. Don't do it… Anything you feel at any time IS CORRECT... Do know that you are NOT your cancer (it can become that if you let it). You are YOU with cancer… just a bit of a difference in how you think about yourself. Millions of women go through this every day, go to work (I did the entire Yankees season in l996…missing only the DAY I had chemo and one day afterwards) raise their kids, and go on with their lives…differently for a while, but we go on."
Joan Lunden also heard about my diagnosis, and though we both worked at Good Morning America, we didn't overlap. "I remember all too well how it feels to be at the beginning of this road and as a fellow warrior I wanted to say that it can seem insurmountable at the outset but you will make it through!... As one Facebook follower said to me, 'Before you know it you will be looking at this in your rearview mirror.' I always loved that saying, and now that it has come true for me, I felt I should pass it on to you, since it's important to stay positive and to take good care of your body and to expect a good outcome!"
And while I have the love and support of my incredible family and friends, it is the words from these people, and other people I do not know, that I keep going back to.
Every day life isn't so hard. I have to live. I have to be a mom. I have to work. I want to continue to enjoy it all. So I keep going. But there are moments, mostly recently, where I do break down and cry since I'm recovered from surgery and just began chemotherapy and the rest of my treatments for the next year. It is still hard to believe. I feel like I'm me most of the time. Then at other times, I have to stop and remind myself of my new path. I live in reality, but this doesn't seem real.
However, going into that operating room certainly was real. I walked myself in, hysterically crying, with a nurse holding me and comforting me. I walked right into the big, bright, white room. The table I would lay on was waiting for me surrounded by nurses, machines, lights, computers and my doctor. They put a mask over my face and that was it.
Some say how you go under is how you wake up. For me, going under was easy once I got on the table. But I woke up crying and begging for my boys. Luckily they were there and able to come in right away. And that was all I needed at that moment.
I remind myself every day of all of the women, like Suzyn, who went to work every day. I re-read all of the stories of survivors. I remind myself that I am brave though I don't feel like I have a choice. Like Joan passed along, I can't wait to see this all in the rearview mirror. For now, I'll continue to live as I always do. With some little bumps in the road.
And by the way, I didn't fill out the form. I couldn't.
Over the coming months, Denise Albert will continue to share her journey in a series of posts on GoodHousekeeping.com.
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