Finding My Strength in the Midst of Breast Cancer
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my world stopped. My focus instantly shifted to one thing: surviving. I’d lost two close friends to breast cancer, and I didn’t know any survivors who’d come out on the other side. It was just fear and uncertainty—I just wanted to make it through.
An Unexpected Discovery
It started with a dull pain in my left breast. I thought it was just hormones since my annual physical had been clear. But then I noticed a little dimpling in the skin, like a tiny pucker, and I knew something wasn’t right. A mammogram and biopsy later, I got the call: breast cancer.
I reached out to a highly recommended cancer center that was known for their care and research on BRCA-related cancers. The team quickly got me in touch with a breast surgeon, who recommended a bilateral mastectomy after genetic testing revealed a BRCA2 mutation. Suddenly, my life was filled with appointments, decisions, and a whirlwind of emotions. But from the start, the doctors and nurses made me feel like more than just a patient—they genuinely cared.
Finding Calm in the Chaos
Hearing that I had high-risk breast cancer was a heavy hit. Anxiety took over, and I felt like I was reliving the trauma of losing my dad to cancer years earlier. My husband was my rock—my biggest support—but I needed to find a way to manage the overwhelming anxiety. That’s when I found hypnotherapy, thanks to a recommendation from a friend.
One session changed everything. It was like learning how to quiet the constant chatter in my brain and tap into a calm I didn’t know existed. Every day leading up to surgery, I’d listen to a recording of that session, meditating for at least 15 minutes. It felt like homework, but the kind that gave me control over my healing. And when everything else felt out of control, having something I could actively do was life-changing.
The Road Through Treatment
In August, I underwent a double mastectomy. I knew it was necessary, but it didn’t make it easier. The surgery revealed that the cancer had spread to a lymph node, so out came 13 of them—my body changing and healing in ways I never expected. After surgery, it was time for chemotherapy: four months of bi-weekly infusions, and the fear of losing my hair. I decided to use a cold cap, a freezing treatment to try to save my hair. My motivation? My 3-year-old son. I didn’t want him to see me as “sick,” and I wanted to get back to work as quickly as possible without having to explain my condition to every patient.
To pay for the cold cap, I turned to my lifelong love: art. I started painting every day, selling my artwork to cover the costs of treatment. And in doing so, painting became more than just a way to earn money—it was my therapy. Each brushstroke was a way to cope, a way to transform my fear and pain into something beautiful.
A New Kind of Healing
Painting became like meditation for me. It helped me regain control over how I felt about my body and its changes. I took photos of my body throughout treatment—scars, bruises, and all—and turned them into mixed media artwork. Layering oils and gold leaf, I transformed those images into something empowering. It was like seeing my body through a new lens, celebrating its strength rather than mourning its loss. The cancer cells weren’t just an illness—they became subjects for my creativity. I painted scenes of my body fighting them off, mountaintops where my anxiety floated away like clouds. Art gave me the space to visualize healing and reclaim my body in a way I never expected.
Riding the Rollercoaster
After chemo ended, I had a short break before diving into radiation. It was tough—I was angry at the constant reminders of my condition. Daily radiation felt like an intrusion on my life, and balancing work, family, and endless treatments was exhausting. But each day, I remembered what I learned in my meditations: You have more power than you think. When you control your thoughts, you can be more present, more grounded, more joyful. It’s easy to get caught up in anger and frustration, but taking that time to be with my family and find moments of joy made all the difference.
New Beginnings and Fearless Living
Now, my paintings hang on display at the very center that treated me, and I continue to create and share my art. Breast cancer gave me the push I needed to follow my passion. I used to say, “One day, I’ll paint more. One day, I’ll be an artist.” But this journey lit a fire in me, and it’s ironic, but my fear is gone.
To anyone going through this journey, find your quiet. Take time each day to envision your body healing and those cancer cells leaving. Regardless of your treatment plan, envision the positive. You have more power than you realize, and there’s always strength within you waiting to be discovered.