Weeks 23 & 24 A.D.
What good can come out of having breast cancer?
I don’t know, but it’s my mission to figure that out. You can call it “silver linings” or “making lemonade out of lemons”. Honestly though, it feels like a purpose-seeking journey. I realize I may never actually reach my desired destination, but it ought to at least be interesting.
As you know if you’ve been reading along, I post my story on my socials—mainly Facebook and LinkedIn, being the (elder) Millennial I am. I initially had only planned to post on Facebook until it dawned on me, I almost rescheduled my mammogram because I was busy with work.
Work.
It’s not to say my employer was in any way, shape or form discouraging or pressuring me to reschedule my mammogram. They did no such thing. My “too busyness” was a result of my own making. It was my mindset, or one could call it work ethic, that had me almost push my own healthcare to the side in order to focus on work achievement.
I hate saying “work ethic” because it’s such a subjective term. One could say a good “work ethic” means getting to work early and leaving late. Answering 4am text messages and emails on your vacation—but NO, that is not good “work ethic”. It’s not sustainable, not realistic to most, and not at all healthy. It’s an old-fashioned way of thinking about “work ethic”. But, sadly, so many of us still subscribe to that way of thinking about work.
How many of us do this to ourselves?
I do. Or did.
I often joke with my coworkers that I’m also that person that will hold my ability to use the restroom hostage until I finish just that one last task. I am a grown ass woman doing the pee pee dance in my office chair because I am a “high achiever” trying to prove something to…who? Myself?
My point is—my cancer story is EXACTLY applicable for the work audience. Our busyness, real or self-made, is NOT an excuse or valid reason to put off our health. Physical or mental.
By posting on LinkedIn, I am trying to catch you all in your busyness to tell you that your health is your REAL boss. It’s the kind of boss that won’t take any of your excuses. It’s the kind of boss that doesn’t care how busy you are, it will throw you more work. It’s the kind of boss that will drop in anytime they damn well please. It’s the kind of boss that doesn’t give a fuck.
Avoidance is the worst possible way to treat this boss. Only proactive and attentive care will do, or else risk getting fired. And I think you and I both know what getting fired from your health means.
The job of life is way too precious to be fired from, so listen up and do the work.
The cool thing is, many of you are. I’ve been honored to have some of you share your stories with me, whether your own or from someone you love. I of all people understand that it can be difficult to share these experiences with someone. Just saying it out loud is a battle of its own.
A silver lining in this experience has been making connections with other survivors.
One LinkedIn connection was a woman, a survivor, whom I had the pleasure of meeting for coffee. She founded the nonprofit, The Breast Cancer Club, as a result of her experience going through breast cancer. We found ourselves commenting on each others’ posts regularly and I spent time browsing the organization’s resources before my surgery, resulting in some fantastic support services I took advantage of during my recovery. Eventually we decided to meet up and chat in person.
Of course I said “yes!”.
I walked away from that coffee with a new friend and an offer to join the board of directors for this amazing organization.
Another LinkedIn connection I made was a woman from the American Cancer Society. I noticed her interactions with my cancer-related posts and was honored to eventually see a message in my inbox from her. We made a plan to meet for coffee—I was looking forward to learning more about this prominent organization and programming I might like to participate in.
I left that coffee learning a ton about the advocacy work this organization does, agreeing to participate in the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk and received an invitation to be one of the Portraits of Hope storytellers.
Of course I said “yes!”.
Another silver lining in this experience are the opportunities to continue to share my story with others to increase earlier detection and open access to support services for anyone going through this disease.
These two weeks A.D. (after diagnosis) might be the most hopeful weeks I’ve had yet. Purposeful opportunities are presenting themselves—which tells me that choosing to expose one the most vulnerable experiences of my life was a risk worth taking because it can actually help people.
Even if I did it on a professional social platform.
Midlife Mamacita 