I will say it again—and as many times as I need to, because I want you to truly hear me: Everyone thinks the worst is over when treatment ends. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Don’t misunderstand: eighteen months of chemotherapy was hell, but it doesn’t compare to what I’ve endured over the last five years. For nine long years, I’ve fought to stay alive, and it hasn’t been easy.
To the outside world, I may look fine. But if you could see inside me, you’d see the constant suffering I carry. I live in a dark place, and sometimes all I have left is my smile. My future feels so uncertain, and I’ve heard it said that if you become comfortable with change, it’s no longer scary. But how can anyone become comfortable with what I’ve lived through?
I want to share my story, because it hasn’t been easy—and I’m not alone. There are so many others, men and women, who lack the support they need to survive after cancer. How can we say we’ve survived breast cancer if we don’t survive the risks and damage that follow it? Plenty of groups and programs exist when you’re in active treatment, but where are the resources for those of us still grappling with the fallout?
If you look into it, you’ll find that many breast cancer survivors end up homeless or financially devastated. This shouldn’t be just another “side effect” of cancer.
Don’t feel sorry for me; I still have some fight left. And believe me, I will do whatever it takes so that no one else in my community faces homelessness or financial ruin after cancer. It’s bad enough we had to fight for our lives—we shouldn’t have to fight for our livelihoods, too.
My breast cancer journey isn’t pretty, but it needs to be told so that we can prevent others from suffering the same fate. You can stand with me or stand against me. The choice is yours.