FIRST COMES MARRIAGE, THEN COMES . . ?

I’m going to make a very ignorant statement right now. I thought only old people, genetically predisposed people, smokers, obese people, diabetic people, or alcoholics got cancer. I am none of those things and I was diagnosed with triple positive breast cancer at the age of 36-years- old. The jokes on me, eh?!

I never thought that lump resting between my left breast and my chest bone was a cancerous tumor. I had been working out at the gym hardcore at the time, (for what reason, I am not quite sure), so I thought it was a pulled muscle at best. I mean I was healthy as a horse! I ate my greens, took my vitamins, didn’t eat meat and worked out four times a week. But just 1 month later I was sitting in the doctor’s office with the results; I was healthy . . . except for the cancer.

Doctor: "Monique I wish I had better news, but it is cancer." Or maybe he said, “Monique the tumor is cancerous,” or maybe it was, “Monique too bad so sad, as healthy as you think you are, you got cancer smarty pants!”  I can’t really remember, but what echoed in my head was, IT’S CANCER. I felt my heart drop, or did it stop? I stopped breathing for sure and closed my eyes. Me: WTF?? Even today, almost 6 months later, I still can't believe it, I don’t feel like I have cancer. I always say, “I didn’t feel like I had cancer, until I had chemo.” (The chemo that saved my life I am sure), but I digress. Then I remember he moved me and my husband, Corey into a private room while he got my paper work together. As soon as I sat down I started to bawl uncontrollably. Corey was hugging me and I said, "WTF is he saying? He had to get it wrong, what about our plans, what about our BABY?! We had just gotten married 6 months prior and we said we would start trying to have a family that year, that month in fact. But a few weeks prior something inside me said, WAIT. I don't know what that was, God, the universe, my gut? I will never know. But I went to Corey and told him I think we should wait. I said, now didn't feel right and we could take the rest of the year to just enjoy being newlyweds. I didn’t want to rush to have kids, just because I was mid 30’s and we “should” hurry it up! Thank God, we did, or chemo (which needed to start ASAP), might have been out of the question and today we would be having a very different conversation. 

People ask, “What’s it like being diagnosed so young?” I don't know how to answer that. 36 is young yes, but I am sure no matter what age you are diagnosed it is F’d up either way. But for me, what was really impacted, (or so I thought), was my ability to start a family. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes cancer? That is not how the song goes! This diagnosis was like someone had shot me in both knee caps at the beginning of my race.

This was a real disruption to my and Corey future kin conversations:

Me: “Did you get the email I sent you?”

Corey: “The one with the little girl in the jumpsuit and sunglasses?”

Me: “Yes, she looks just like our daughter, no?”

Corey: “Ummmm not really.”

Me: “Yes, she does, she has my cheeks and your eyes!”

Corey: “How can you tell she is wearing sunglasses? LOL!”

Me: “She looks like the next child YouTube sensation!”

Corey: “YouTube?? How about we raise the next doctor or lawyer?”

Me: “Ugh . . . so boring!”  

Then after our first visit to the fertility specialist and she informed us that chemo causes birth defects and we can't start trying to conceive until 3 years post chemo . . .  if at all, I thought, F, WHAT’S THE POINT?! (I did freeze my eggs though just in case). It was like someone had stabbed me in the heart. After that I spent many months convincing myself I didn’t even want kids. I mean who wants a crying, poopy, suck your life savings for the next 21 years anyway? I DID!!!

Almost 6 months ago I was diagnosed and I thought it was the end of my world. I was going to sell everything and take me and Corey around the world on a last hooray. What I have learned over these many months is, doctors only know as much as they know, but they have no way of knowing what is going to happen with my cancer, my body, or my future. AND that includes whether we will be able to conceive. I have been very lucky up until this point. I responded well to chemo, YAY! Tumors are shrinking, YAY! I feel good and I am not laying in a depressed heap on the floor somewhere (Double YAY!). I get to keep my breast so far, lumpectomy surgery still healing from (YAY! But hurts like hell!), and 3 years from now we will have my 36-year-old eggs to try and conceive with if we need them. That child, YouTubing/doctor/lawyer is just waiting for us, I know it!

No matter what age you are diagnosed, cancer impacts your life, no matter what you have going on, it comes in and says, “Stop whatever you are doing, whatever you were thinking and however you were being and listen to me!” You are forever changed . . .  it changed me. So better that change comes sooner rather then later, no?

This post is part of Listen to HER2, a program hosted by Living Beyond Breast Cancer that highlights personal stories from people affected by HER2-positive breast cancer. Visit lbbc.org/ListentoHER2 for more stories about life with HER2-positive breast cancer.

Living Beyond Breast Cancer is a national nonprofit that provides educational resources and emotional support to people who have been impacted by breast cancer. Its goal is to provide information, community and support that you can trust, is easy for you to access and respectful of you and your situation. For more information, visit LBBC.ORG.

 

Happy Anniversary to My Hubby

Corey and I just celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary and I never got him a card, because there wasn’t a card that could say everything that needed to be said to a man like this. This is a love letter to my husband, (so if you are not down for some mushy stuff, go away). Hehe!

Dear Corey,

I wrote this weeks ago, because I wanted to capture exactly how I felt in this moment in time.

I hesitate to even write this because just thinking about who you have been for me moves me to a waterfall of tears.

I know that when you get married you say all these vows like, "I promise to love, cherish . . . In sickness and in health, 'till death do us part’." You know the drill. We even wrote our own vows where I bawled my face off in front of 130 of our closest friends and family. I remember the only trouble I had writing it was my attempt to keep it short, I had so much I wanted to say to you. I mean we already did 9 years of you and me, so us getting married was just another way to show how much we loved each other. But when the big ‘C’ came into our lives, 6 short months later, I was scared that I had ruined the blissful path we had set our sights on. I wasn't sure how this would affect us, me, you . . . you and me. You have had a front row seat to it all and to say you have been my rock, would be an understatement. That does not encapsulate who you have been for me. SO, instead I will say THANK-YOU. Thank-you for your unwavering faith of, “We got this.” I never once looked at you and doubted that I was not going to be defeated by this. 

So, Thank-you for that first and foremost, but for so much more:

• Thank-you for taking me to appointment after appointment and holding my hand literally through each one. Thank-you for never judging me when my mood went from happy to uncontrollable tears within minutes.
• Thank-you for always making me laugh when I wanted to curl up in a ball and give up.
• Thank-you for bringing me my vitamins every morning and have it sitting the bed before I even open my eyes.
• Thank -you for coming home in the middle of the day, every day, to check on me, bring me food, or just keep my company.
• Thank-you for sitting with me until I fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon.
• Thank-you for your eyes that never showed pity or fear, just love.
• Thank-you for telling me I am beautiful day in and day out, (even in my daily uniform of robe, fuzzy socks and sunglasses).
• Thank-you for sleeping in the other room when you got a cold as to not affect me. 
• Thank-you for rubbing my head and kissing it goodnight.
• Thank-you for reading to me when my head and eyes hurt too much to read for myself.
• Thank you for bringing me snacks when you knew, that bag of Doritos might be the only thing that would bring me peace and I couldn’t leave the house to get them myself. AND for not getting me snacks that you knew would send my digestive track into chaos (like the pizza, burger and fries I always wanted).
• Thank-you for listening to all my complaining about the same things over and over and OVER, and not once sounding annoyed, you never made me feel like I exhausted you with the same old complaints, "My hair is falling out, my eyebrows, I cat eat, can't sleep, I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm cold, I'm hot, I'm depressed etc.”
• Thank-you for letting me buy all those clothes online even though we both know I had no damn place to wear them.
• Thank-you for laying around with me and watching all my favorite “chick flick” favorites.
• Thank-you for, Me: “Honey do I look like an alien, am I ugly?” You: “Ugly?? You are beautiful and look like a sexy milk dud.” And then kissed my bald head.
• Thank-you for never letting me give up on who I know myself to be, who you know me to be.
• Thank-you for being stronger than me (you always have been, one of the many reasons I married you).
• Thank-you for loving me unconditionally.

So, I have some words, but they will never be enough to express what you have been for me, it's a feeling, like I grab my heart and start to cry every time I think of who you have been. I know you know all this so I didn't need to write this, I tell you everyday how much I appreciate everything you do, BC (before cancer) and now. That is the type of relationship we have. This is for the world to know who you are. The best man I know. My best friend in every sense of the word. You are being the love of my life is a given, you are also my light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

I LOVE YOU

Your Wife, a.k.a. Sexy milk Dud

LAST CHEMO TREATMENT - F YAY!

Guess what tomorrow is? It’s my last chemo treatment! Its been 4 months, 4 rounds of AC, 4 rounds Taxol + Herceptin, 1 million tears, 1000 meltdowns, one head shave, and a roller coaster of, "What the fuck, is this really happening?" YAY, BABY WE MADE IT!! 

Don’t get me wrong, this is not the end of the war, but it is a battle won, so let’s celebrate!!

Before we do I want to share a convo I had the other day with a very close friend of mine. Let’s call her Lolo. She said something to me that really reminded me how many people are on this journey with me. Some who only see me through my social feeds, some I only speak to on the phone, and some I only communicate through text. No, they will never really understand what this is like for me, but they are in my corner watching, cheering and some battling their own conversations around mortality . . . mine and their own. She said something to the effect of, “I am in awe of you, that with you facing possible death, you are not balled up in a corner somewhere." Yes, you can insert a PAUSE here. ( I love you Lolo! But DANG!) At first, I was like, fuck! I mean yes sometimes I feel like death, but I don’t sit around thinking that I am actually facing death, but thanks for the reminder! I get what she was trying to say. Cancer does spark the fear of imminent death. Luckily, she caught me on a good day, I was on a unicorn high from feeling good the last few days and spitting rainbows.

Lolo: "All I mean is, I don’t know where you get your strength from, I would be curled up in a ball somewhere." Fair enough.

Me: " You know where I get my strength from? I get my strength from all of you, you guys are my strength. You hold me up. I am not standing here by myself. I am blessed with a rock star husband, a loving family, and friends who make sure I am not facing this alone (I wrote this prior to my, surprise party, but that just goes to show how amazing my circle is). I do not know how the single ladies manage this shit all on their own, they are the true warriors!

I am one of the lucky ones. Holy shit! As I write this I can barely believe I can say that even with the big C, I am still one of the lucky ones. After all I am still here, many, many are not. I am held up by the strength of my community and NOTHING else. Don’t get it twisted, I do curl up in a ball and go to those dark places, but I have people around me who will not let me to stay there too long. My people are what keep me going. They cook special meals for me, tuck me in bed, make me liquid meals when I can’t digest solids, show up at my doorstep with gifts in tow, send weekly care packages and cards to my house, secret Santa me, do my laundry with toxic free detergent (thanks mommy), send me text messages with no expectation of a reply, whatsapp me cute emojis, call me to check in, whisk me away for the night, take me to brunch, hang out when I can’t leave the house and send me video messages from a far (sometimes wearing super women costumes, THE BEST!) I have the love and support of these beautiful people, even the times when I pushed it away.  Kristina, Cheryl, Audrey, Anjali, Jenelle, Diana, Natasha,Tanya, Jaya, Chenelle, Sheena, Laura, Raquel, Shivaun, Jasmine, Chantal, Melissa, Janielle, Belinda, Lindsey Crawford, Lana (banana). I know there are many others who I may be forgetting, forgive me! AND I want to say a special thank-you to Camille, my sister from another mister. I know you are behind the "Care Package Posse" and orchestrating my "Surprise No More Chemo Party," I have no words for what this has meant to me. You continue to make the milestones in my life unforgettable.

I am forever grateful for all of you! For those of you who wanted to be there and could not, this is what I said, "You are all my strength. I know this is hard for all of you, and you don't always know what to say to me, or how to help. Know that every little thing you do has made a difference. There is no 'right' magical phrase that will comfort me. All of you have made this journey so much easier than it could be. I am so blessed to have all of you in my life. I love you."  Of course I said all of this while bawling my face off.

That is how I survived chemo . . . that is how I will survive the rest. 

Cancer is a lonely fucking journey, it is depressing as all shit. HOWEVER – as the last chemo round arrives I am reminded how grateful I am to have the community around me that is my strength.

 I LOVE YOU ALL THANK-YOU!