It's Been Quite the Month Already, and It's Only the Middle of October......

It’s October 14th. Only 2 weeks of October are done and already, this month has been hard. So much to wrap my head around.

As a breast cancer survivor, I find that this month is always hard. Seeing all the pink support is nice, and that I do absolutely love, as long as it’s being used in the right way… to raise awareness, to show support to survivors and thrivers, and to raise money for reputable organizations.

As I am entering my 4th year as a survivor, I’m finding that I like to celebrate myself as a survivor, and I like to celebrate with my family and friends because I’m super excited about this milestone, but I just can’t bring myself to do the big walks anymore. I just feel like too many companies are profiting off of myself, so many of my friends, and so many other women out there who are literally fighting for their lives. My call to action is shifting. We are now aware and we are raising awareness and we are helping those in need, gain access to better care and screenings and such. We are helping newly diagnosed, to enter into this new world of their “new norm”. But there are two other groups that are being left behind…… the metastatic community and those survivors who are a few years out of active treatment, that still need some help. Just because active treatments have stopped, doesn’t mean you are out of the cancer world. You’ll hear breast cancer survivors say that survivorship is the hardest part…. And it’s so absolutely the truth. Especially...when you see your friends getting re-diagnosed. My heart keeps breaking and then my trauma response kicks in, which I’m still working on, because my brain then says, “It’s only a matter of time before it’s your turn.” And it happens a lot. And then there’s the constant reminder that this is my world and when October ends and all the pink goes away, this will still be my world. I live this.

And then there’s the metastatic community. The stage 4 or those who have had a recurrence and are now stage 4. What about them? They don’t get to end their active treatments. They don’t get to ring a bell or celebrate. I am 42 now and I have friends who were my age, with young kids just like me, who have died. I have friends that are around my age and YOUNGER on palliative care… DYING and PALLIATIVE care at our ages?!! THIS is my world. I am not stage 4, but I was close. Stage 3 wasn’t far off. I had lymph node involvement as well. So all we can really do is hope and pray that my treatments got it all, but there will always be that thought for me that it can come back. And if it does, I’ll be stage 4. The time to act is now.. Before it comes to that. I just have to figure out what I can do to help.

Then of course, now we have the whole war in Israel. As I sit here writing this, I can’t even put into words what this past week has been like, seeing everything unfold. Seeing the country my ancestors came from and where some of those I know of live today, still being persecuted, horrifically murdered, kidnapped….. It’s absolutely gut wrenching. Jewish people, my people, being hunted because of who we are, and having to be scared over here in the US to send our babies to school. Praying that the close proximity to synagogues or the schools that are in synagogues will be safe. Being worried this day in age because we live in a heavily Jewish populated area. What world are we living in?!!

Now, let’s tie my trauma responses, that I’ve worked so hard at overcoming for the past 3 years, to what is now happening today. I’ll be very honest, PTSD and Hypervigilance are a huge part of my being now. Upon entering into my 1st year of survivorship, I never felt safe. I always felt that something bad would happen to me or would always be coming, wherever I was. I was super aware of my surroundings and always making sure I was prepared just in case, which can be a good thing… until it becomes a little on the extreme side. I remember a time when I was in my car sitting at a traffic light, in broad daylight by myself, seeing a group of younger, casually dressed men walking on the sidewalk who were just coming to cross the street, and praying that they weren’t coming to do something bad to me. I started sweating, I could feel my anxiety rising, and I’m plotting my next steps for if they were to come at my car….this all happening within a mere 20 seconds. The light changed and I was fine but I found myself in these kinds of situations a lot. It overtook me for a long time. Through lots of trauma work, I learned that this was a normal trauma response that was happening to me because my life was ultimately threatened beyond my control. Breast cancer is trauma. And no matter what the trauma is, the brain and body response is the same. I can get flashbacks, I have triggers, and when I feel unsafe, my hypervigilance response comes back. I’ve felt unsafe all week. So you can imagine what that does to my entire being. I have had to do a lot of work this week, and yes it’s work with every ounce of my brain, to tell myself that I am safe. But am I really? Excuse my language here, but breast cancer is a mindf#%@.

So why am I sharing this? Because if you know me, then you know that writing is my outlet. I woke up this morning with the desire to write it all out, so here I am. It’s my way of processing everything and getting it all out. I share, because I know that there are others out there like me, and through a breast cancer journey, connection is key. And you all are reading excerpts from the book I hope to write one day when I decide it’s time to piece this all together.

Sending love and prayers to anyone who may need it today.