Not A Warrior

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Halfway There

Halfway there. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in May and I’m halfway through chemo. My first infusion was the day before the girls’ dance recital and a week before my sister’s wedding. After chemo comes surgery, then radiation, then 5-10 years of hormone therapy. I had been feeling indifferent about this milestone. It’s arbitrary and even though I’m pursuing incredibly aggressive treatment halfway through doesn’t mean halfway cured. The only thing I can do is hope that it’s doing what it’s supposed to. And hope, I’ve learned (thanks to Mariame Kaba and my work on the Nicole Addimando Community Defense Committee), is a discipline.

I surprised myself with a reframe the other day. My body has gotten me halfway through treatment. It has carried me and refused to give in. I also returned to writing down 5 things each day that bring me gratitude, peace, or comfort. (Last week’s list included watching the girls’ swim lesson and Leo asking to hold my hand in the car)

Here is my boundary: don’t call me a warrior. I might be strong af but I don’t want to be reminded that I’m in a fight I didn’t choose and one without a guaranteed outcome.

I’m doing okay, all things considered. Good days are sprinkled in with the bad. I’ve received the most nourishing meals, thoughtful care packages, stunning flowers, cards, books, and more. My children are patient and unbelievably gentle with me when I’m tired. My husband has been by my side at every step. I have colleagues who support me unconditionally and health insurance that enables me to seek the best medical care possible. I also try to distract myself at each infusion by learning and recording a new TikTok dance - my handle is @katemadelinecruz.