Outskirts Press, INC.

Life-shattering and overwhelming decisions that had to be made!

I was in the middle of planning my wedding, which was suppose to be an exciting and joyous occasion, yet now the only thing I could think about was breast cancer and will I live or will I die. The life I had planned was now being shattered. I knew nothing about breast cancer. The remote conversations I had engaged in were generally, limited, hushed and daunting. Therefore my diagnosis was governed by confusion, fear and anger which led to quick decision making with unfamiliar choices. There were many times I felt misunderstood. These feelings guided me to a place of loneliness and isolation, even when I was surrounded by those that loved me. During this time of vexation, I returned back to my special place of consolation…“journaling.” During my breast cancer journey, journaling became my greatest support. I would write my feelings and thoughts and hide my deepest fears. Journaling gave me comfort in knowing my inner feelings would not be judged, or compared to others. Now eight years later, I decided to compile the entries from my journal into the form of poetry, memoirs and short stories. These excerpts reveal moments of frustration, and fear that made me strong, as well as moments of confusion, that made me seek knowledge. This knowledge I use today, in communities, and with newly diagnosed cancer patients, to heighten their awareness about risk factors and breast health. These excerpts also help patients during those moments of doubt; when they ask questions such as… “Is it normal for me to feel this way, and does others feel the same way?” Hopefully these entries will reveal to breast cancer patients, their thought process is normal ... there is no right or wrong, everything is “Trial and Error” especially when you are in a place of despair.

I awaken with my pillow full of hair…hair…hair everywhere I was not prepared for this fight… it crept up on me in the middle of the night, leaving a horrible but funny sight. My hair was all stringy and spiked. Bald as an eagle naked as a tree, refusing to let this battle define me, I called my son; he knew how to keep things fun. He looked at my head and laughed awhile, speaking about haircuts I gave him as a child. Now it was his turn to shave my head clean preparing me for battle like a Marine. ("Did you ever think hair could have such a profound influence on your life?" )