life after cancer

Transcending Passion Into Purpose

When my chemo and radiation treatments ended in July 2013, I struggled to return to my normal life, including my career in agricultural field research. Physically, I no longer had the stamina to work in a corn field for up to ten hours a day. Mentally, I began to question if I was even passionate about my job anymore. I had just survived cervical cancer, so I didn’t want to waste another minute in a job that wasn’t fulfilling. I felt lost and knew I needed to find a new career path that would give me a better sense of purpose. 

I thought hard about what I was passionate about and how I could turn that into a career. I knew I was passionate about cancer advocacy but didn’t know how to apply that to a job quite yet. I found the field of cancer registry interesting but knew little about it. I thought about cancer registry off and on over the next few years but kept dismissing the idea of becoming a cancer registrar because it would require two years of schooling to become certified. 

Cancer registries are important because they reduce the burden of cancer on the community by improving patient outcomes and ensuring funding for public health cancer prevention programs. A cancer registrar is responsible for collecting, maintaining, and reporting cancer data on all cancer types diagnosed and/or treated within a hospital or other medical facility. This data is entered into a cancer registry system, or database, that is then reported to state and national cancer registries. 

Cancer registry data is used by many, including oncologists and other doctors to compare cases for treatment plans, researchers for clinical trials, public health officials for evaluation of cancer prevention programs, policymakers to determine state and national funding of cancer control programs, and cancer organizations for statistics (like the American Cancer Society). 

In 2020, amid the pandemic and working from home, I decided to go for it and enrolled in an online program to become a certified cancer registrar. I am now one year into the program and am enjoying every class I take. I feel like I have a sense of purpose that was missing.

Someone once told me that cancer registrars impact cancer advocacy, policy, and research. This is so true! Knowing that my future job will impact cancer in these ways is exactly the fulfillment I am looking for in a career. It may have taken an unexpected cancer diagnosis, a lot of personal reflection, and seven years to figure out a new direction for my career path, but by the Spring of 2023, I’ll achieve my goal of becoming a certified cancer registrar. You too, can start achieving your goals in 2022, by focusing on your passions with a willingness to persevere. 

Emily is an eight-year cervical cancer survivor who was diagnosed with stage 2B cervical cancer at age 30. After cancer, Emily didn’t realize she even had an advocacy voice until she attended her first Cervivor School in 2016. Today, she is a patient advocate and Cervivor Ambassador who shares her cancer story to raise awareness for ending cervical cancer and to educate others on the importance of cervical cancer screenings and prevention. Emily is the recipient of the 2020 Cervivor Spark Award and the 2022 Cervivor Champion Award. She plans to graduate with her certification in cancer registry in spring 2023.

I’m Done With Treatment, But Treatment Isn’t Done With Me

I recently celebrated my 31st birthday. Around this time last year, I was a brand new 30-year-old enjoying summer with my awesome husband and 3 amazing kids. I never suspected that two months after I celebrated that milestone birthday, cancer would invade my life.

On the day my OBGYN found my tumor, I left her office sobbing. I walked the long way through the parking lot, sobbing. I didn’t care who saw me. The diagnosis was so hard to cope with. I couldn’t align myself with my new reality. I searched every part of my soul to come to grips with what I felt was the end of my life.

“I can’t have cancer. I’m young! My kids are so young! My husband’s going to be a widower, he doesn’t deserve this! My kids are going to grow up without me! They won’t remember me. I have so much left to do here,” I thought, my brain in overdrive. I felt betrayed by my body. 

Treatment was the longest, weirdest dream I’ve ever had

I began treatment. The plan was 6 rounds of chemotherapy, 30+ rounds of external radiation, and 5 internal radiations (brachytherapy). I now call treatment the longest, weirdest dream I’ve ever had because I felt like I was in a fog the entire time. My body was so weak. I barely ate. I slept all the time, but not deeply or comfortably. I felt restless. Thank goodness for my husband, my sister and my dad. They helped me daily. I remember trying to vacuum one day and nearly collapsing. It was so hard to take a back seat to everything. From not working or doing basic chores to watching as others took care of my children daily. That wasn’t me. Everyone who knows me knows that I am fiercely independent.

At the beginning of treatment, I had hand-drawn a calendar to count down to when I’d be done. With each day that passed, no matter how weak I felt, I always remembered to make another “X” on the calendar. It was a long 9 weeks. Treatment ended for me on December 13th, 2019. It was a Friday, and I joked that this nightmare was ending on Friday the 13th. To live up to its name, on that day – my last round of external radiation – the radiation machine that worked so faithfully all those weeks was broken. I stood there with my family (who all came for my last day) and waited around with a full bladder – which was the requirement before receiving radiation – for over an hour. I remember thinking, “Can’t I just get this over with?! I’m so ready!” Right at my breaking point, I heard my name over the intercom and 10 minutes later, I was done. I said goodbye to the amazing doctors and nurses who took care of me all those weeks.

I did it! I’m done!  I can move on forever. Or so I thought…
How naive I was to think that! I’ve learned over the past months that even though I’m done with treatment, treatment is not done with me. I’ve dealt with a plethora of side effects:

For a whole month after treatment, I had what felt like a never-ending UTI.

My bowels are a mess.

What I thought was an upset stomach one late February night has proven to be another side effect from radiation.

My joints ache.

My body doesn’t feel like a 31-year-old. I’m going through menopause! The physical symptoms are many, but the mental stuff is particularly hard. There are highs and lows. I’ve lost two friends over the past few months to cervical cancer. It does something to you to see other women with the same disease pass away. My heart breaks daily for their families.

NED (but there is still the physical and mental evidence of my cancer)

I had my first post-treatment PET scan in March and received the wonderful news that I had “No Evidence of Disease.” In the cancer world, “NED” is a term everyone wants to hear.

NED brings people to their knees.

We rejoice. We celebrate. We still worry, of course. I think I always will, and the aftereffects of treatment continue to bring challenges. But having cancer has given me the gift of perspective. I gladly accept each day that comes. I am thankful for my family and friends. I am thankful for all of the small things that bring me joy.

Even with everything I’ve been through – all the procedures, side effects, and pain – I’d do it all again to be here with my husband and children. I’d do it a thousand times over.

My body: How can I not love something that has fought so hard for me to be here?

I am most thankful for my body. I’m proud of it for everything it has been through and how it still keeps going. All of my physical insecurities have been put to rest.

How can I not love something that has fought so hard for me to be here? That’s what I am. I’m here.  I’m still here! 

About Natasha:

Natasha is full time work-from-home/homeschooling mom of three who enjoys taking photos of anything and everything, traveling, reading multiple books at the same time, and finding new places to show her kids. Read Natasha’s Cervivor Story here.