It was confirmed early Thursday morning: colon cancer. A week earlier, I had awoken from anesthesia, and all I could hear was the word “tumor.” It’s difficult to articulate the rush of emotions that envelop you upon hearing that word. It engulfs you, wrapping around you with a heavy, suffocating weight. I felt like I was simultaneously floating and plummeting, perhaps still affected by the medication. My breath caught in my chest much like it did during the CT scan that followed. A mechanical voice instructed me to “hold your breath,” and I wished that voice had been present in the recovery room, where it could have reminded me to breathe.
This diagnosis had been a source of anxiety for me. At just 37, I had sensed something unusual for several months. Many dismissed my concerns, attributing my symptoms to hemorrhoids. “You’re too young,” they said, or “You’re too attractive,” as if illness discriminates based on age or appearance. The reality is, cancer does not choose its victims.
My first encounter with illness occurred when I was seven. I awoke to the sensation of needles and burning pain, unable to move, trapped under a cotton sheet that felt like it was searing my skin. After a month in the hospital, doctors concluded it was likely rheumatic fever, but they could not explain why I survived.
There’s a strange familiarity in this unfamiliarity with disease. The fear is overwhelming, yet this time, it feels different. I am a mother and a wife, with lives depending on me. I’m no longer a child in a hospital room, waiting for nurses to leave so I can sneak cookies. Now, I’m on my couch, baby monitor nearby, my dog curled at my feet, pondering how difficult this journey will be.
For the first time, I find myself concerned about the challenge of facing treatment rather than worrying about how much longer I have with my son and husband. That unsettling thought has lingered in my mind for the past week, leaving me devastated and tear-stained, wrapped in my husband’s steady embrace.
I am frightened and overwhelmed, and I can’t discern which is more consuming: the fear itself or the outpouring of kindness from others. When I woke in the hospital, my doctor gently placed her hand on my arm and informed me of her findings. She spoke plainly, praising me for trusting my instincts. She assured me that I would be okay (though I had my doubts) and comforted me with her words. Later, when my husband and I picked up our son from school, I collapsed into his arms and wept.
The following morning, I received a call from Sarah, a nurse at the endoscopy center who had heard my story. My doctor had asked her to reach out, as she is eleven years post-colon cancer. Sarah offered to accompany me on this journey. I cried when I hung up, a mix of fear and gratitude.
When the insurance company called to confirm my CT scan, which was scheduled just over a day after the colonoscopy, I expressed my gratitude for having good insurance. The woman on the other end began to cry too; we shared a moment of vulnerability. She told me she envisioned my face enveloped in light, and I hung up, feeling love envelop me from strangers.
You don’t truly see the divine until you have to. Now, I find it in every message from friends, in the voices of strangers, and in the embraces of new acquaintances. This experience is terrifying, yet it reveals the beauty of how we care for one another in times of crisis.
I’m uncertain about what lies ahead. I don’t know how extensive the cancer is or what treatments I will undergo. However, I feel myself transitioning from fear to a resolve to listen to my doctors and confront this challenge head-on. With the support of my incredible community, ready to lift me when I stumble, I believe I can overcome.
Three Important Truths I’ve Discovered
- Tears do less damage to makeup when applied only to the upper eyelids.
- Destiny’s Child and Christina Aguilera have made a comeback on my playlist with “Survivor” and “Fighter,” and I’m fully embracing it.
- Kindness exists everywhere and is powerful enough to pull you from the depths of despair if you reach for it.
For more insights on navigating challenges like this, check out this blog post from our site, or visit Intracervical Insemination for expert advice. Additionally, UCSF’s Center offers excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Search Queries:
- Colon cancer diagnosis at a young age
- Coping with cancer as a parent
- Support systems for cancer patients
- Colon cancer symptoms you should know
- Emotional impact of cancer on families
In summary, receiving a colon cancer diagnosis at 37 has been a whirlwind of emotions filled with fear, uncertainty, and unexpected kindness from others. As I prepare for the journey ahead, I am determined to confront this challenge with the support of my community.