I have been thinking a lot about the public figures, social media influencers, family members of pop stars, and members of the Royal Family who all have faced a cancer diagnosis in the recent past. As a cancer survivor myself, one who gets a tenuous “lease” on my body with every check-up, I understand the reluctance to talk about one’s cancer journey. It is a land of potholes and unknowns. Unless you’ve sat in the infusion chair, you don’t know what it’s like. It’s hard to talk about.

BUT.

Though it feels easier (initially) to withdraw, to be private, that can make it harder to find the support and information that the newly diagnosed patient needs. I get it! It’s scary. It’s overwhelming. It’s life-altering. How much we share and with whom is going to be different for each person. And social media can, at times, be full of nasty and cruel keyboard jockeys. (Not to mention the weird “medical” advice that one receives…)

I haven’t offered a deep dive on my chemo regimen and brachytherapy, but I have tried to be real about the lingering side effects, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. My hope in being open about my journey was that others who stumble across my admittedly small entry in the land of social media would find encouragement. Perhaps my wackadoodle sense of humor would make them laugh. I wanted to demystify the mystery that IS cancer treatment, from my perspective, anyway. And I knew that I would only persevere through treatment if I had support. (More about that in a minute.)

In our own ways and in our own words, Ken and I shared our diagnoses and treatment decisions.* When the road was really bumpy with side effects and pain, letting others know we were in a rough patch meant that we had help when we needed it most. And since my life is not under the paparazzi microscope, the days I looked and felt my worst didn’t end up on a tabloid’s front page. (Thanks be to God!)

Transparency in the early days of a cancer diagnosis is important because the cancer patient himself or herself needs support. Both Ken and I found that having a “pod” of friends who loved us and prayed for us made all the difference! They were willing to swim through the fears and the season of physical challenges with us. They still carry me in my grief. I have come to see that the more isolated we hold ourselves from others, the more we pretend “all is well” when life has been turned upside down in a cancer hellscape of anxiety and worry, the more we struggle alone — needlessly.

So if you are newly diagnosed… wow. My heart goes out to you. It’s hard, isn’t it? How do you tell your kids? Your extended family? Your boss? Your business associates and friends? How do you manage work, treatments, recovery from chemo? What if you don’t have enough paid leave to be out for an extended period? If you are clergy, when and how do you share this with your parishioners? There’s no one “right” way to share your news, but please DO share it. Don’t get stuck in the stigma. Be real.

Tell your story! You’ll discover you are not alone… and you will be better equipped for all of the mini-losses that come with a cancer diagnosis. From hair loss to decreased disposable income to neuropathy to scar tissue to life expectancy… others have been there. Find them. Support groups are incredibly helpful!

I’m coming up on my one-year anniversary of completing frontline treatment. I’ll be getting scans and bloodwork next month, having multiple check-ups and renewing that “lease” on my body. I face “scanxiety” as cancer survivors do. And I promise, I’ll keep you posted. I’m hoping for good news. I’m optimistic. But cancer doesn’t follow the rules…

I would be remiss if I didn’t talk a hot minute about how my faith has been through all of this. In the Bible there are many examples that help me reflect. King David told God when he felt abandoned, persecuted, and in fear of losing his life. The Apostle Paul shared his physical and mental torments. And Christ was fervent in his prayers for a different path, offered with faith and integrity. I know without question that God can “handle” my questions, my fears, my doubts. I have cried, cussed, and wallowed… and yet know deeply God’s Divine Care for me. Writing about my spiritual journey is essential, even when I don’t want to share my story. Especially when I don’t want to share my story.

In the hardest moments, I find that I can breathe out prayers that express what I know to be true… God’s love is real and personal, for me (and you.) And I experience overwhelming thankfulness for what God has done in my life (and yours.)

So again I close a blog post with a song…

Thank You, I love you. Says it all…

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*In case you are finding my blog for the first time, Ken was diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer, adenocarcinoma stage 4B in January 2022. I was diagnosed with carcinosarcoma of the uterus stage 1B in June 2022. (Yes. It sucked. No, neither one of us had a genetic predisposition to the cancers we had, and we had been keeping up with our annual physicals and tests.) Ken died in September 2023. I am currently NED (No Evidence of Disease.)