One year ago today, I was told that I had breast cancer. I was one month away from my 31st birthday. I was in a place of contentment in my life. Two of my best friends from growing up had both moved back to town and had beautiful children for me to play with and spoil, I had students that I adored at a school where I enjoyed teaching each day, I felt healthy, waling with friends frequently and running occasionally. Life was good. And then a doctor told me that I was sick. All of the sudden, I was not content and life, for a brief moment was not good. I had lots of decisions to make in those first days and weeks. Who would be my doctors? Where would I get treatment? What kind of treatment would I receive? When would I start? How do I tell my friends? How do I tell my students? Can I still teach during treatment? But the most important decision I had to make, the most important question that needed an answer was How am I going to deal with this? I remember going to bed the night of Friday March 12, 2010 in my old bed at my parents house next to my sweet sister who had driven all afternoon and evening from Florida and I remember deciding that I was fine, that while I had cells that were misbehaving, I was NOT sick. I decided that I was not giving up my life because of cancer. I didn't want to fight, I wanted to live. So I did. Lots of doctors or cancer patients tell you to imagine the chemo going into your body and eating up the cancer cells or fighting the cancer cells and destroying them, but in all honesty, I didn't. I left that up to my doctors and God. I trusted both of those beings with my life and death life. I thought about the next school event or going on walks with baby WillWill or how I was going to make Shakespeare more interesting. I focused on living. I was at school teaching every single day that I didn't have appointments in Charleston and when the regular school year ended, I taught at the Bridges program for the summer. I cheered on my sweet baseball team at every home game. I supported my seniors at prom, academic awards night, the sports banquet, and graduation. I colored and played trains and read books with my precious young friends as often as they would let me come over. I laughed and smiled and ate as much pizza and ice cream as I wanted. I didn't let cancer rob me of a year of my life.
In a month, I will turn 32. I always thought by now I would be married and proudly carry the title "Mommy" and that I would have tricked somebody into paying me to write. Instead, I'm single and proudly carry the title "Hat" (thanks SamSam!) and I've tricked high school students into thinking that I'm slightly cool and to maybe give English Lit a chance and I'm a cancer survivor. Life isn't how I "always thought it would be." It's so much richer! I can truthfully say that. I live a full, rich life, and I have done so for ALL of my 32 years.
So there, cancer. Showed you.
