Month: October 2021

A Promise Kept

Today is National Coming Out Day. I reflect on the different aspects of being gay, having been closeted for years, the amount of courage and fear associated with coming out, and the gain in finally being who I am and love, who my soul desires. I reflect on the years that I spent soul searching knowing that the spark was slowly lighting from within when I was given a “post-hysterectomy-oophorectomy cancer diagnosis” in 2010. 

However, it was not until another seven years later that I would embark on the journey from within my soul that would actually allow me to comprehend what “truly living in my authentic life” meant. 

In January 2016, my best friend, Nikki, gained her heavenly wings after a long battle against ovarian, lung, liver, bone, and brain cancers. In one of my final visits at her bedside, she said something to me that resonated so deep within my soul. She whispered to me “Promise me. Promise me you will start living. Really live life! I love you so much, friend!” 

Tina & Her Friend, Nikki

That moment was the beginning of a “shift” in my life.

I realized I owed it to myself and to my daughter to begin healing and authentically seeking who I am because I was living a life that displayed dishonesty of ones’ self to my own daughter. I didn’t want her growing up with less self value than her worth because she was afraid to chase after what her heart longs for. 

While the healing process is a long road traveled, I didn’t have the support that I expected. I battled survivor guilt, anxiety, and stress from years of processing the hysterectomy oophorectomy treatment I had undergone.

I learned that a cancer caregiver can be a multitude of people in many seasons of life. While the ones who cared at my bedside post surgery were not the same caregivers helping me with accepting and loving myself while healing from past traumas. 

Then I met the caregiver who completed my soul. 

On October 9, 2017, I met Tara, who equally challenged and changed my life for the better in every aspect imaginable. It was the amount of wholeness and love that I knew I could not contain from the world so this led to my coming out journey. 

Tina & Tara at Pride Festival 2019

As a cancer survivor, I undergo an annual wellness pap test and exam to ensure there is no reoccurrence. As an openly gay woman, there are challenges in finding a provider who is affirming and one that I am comfortable discussing personal aspects of my relationship with.

I say this in my sweetest mama bear voice, ladies —  cancer does not discriminate. Cancer does not care about your sexual orientation or history. Regardless of your sexual orientation, you still need wellness exams and cancer screenings. Your health is important. There are many resources available to help find an LGBTQ+ affirming gynecologist. 

Since coming out, I have found a new gynecologist who is LGBTQ+ affirming. It took several attempts with researching websites. While it shouldn’t matter, it does. You should feel completely safe, confident and comfortable with your gynecologist. 

I have not always had a great support system. I understand the pain and anxiety associated with loss of friends and family in the coming out process, but I also know the happiness and joy in finally filling the void that was keeping me from living my authentic life.

My message to my LGBTQ+ cancer community is quite simple: Kudos to you for owning your story, stepping into your brave, embracing your chaos and breaking free from the chains of conformity to find your contentment.  

Pride Festival 2019

I know how challenging the journey can be! Even though we travel on the same road as another person, our destination and duration are unique.

Remember, it is necessary to take a rest and exhale. Freshen up. Look in the mirror and remind yourself why you’re on this trip! Seek the adventure that your heart yearns for.

While I cannot promise the road you travel will always be easy, I can promise it is worth every step.

You are not alone, you are loved, and you are worthy! I relate to your life and I am a “safe place” to come out to for support and encouragement. Someday your journey will be someone else’s survivor guide. 

Much love and light,

Tina

Cervivor community member Tina is a mother of a teenage daughter, partner, and longtime Cervivor supporter. She was diagnosed with cervical carcinoma in situ (CIS) at age 26. Her goal is to help women remember the importance of their cancer screenings regardless of their sexual orientation. She hopes to educate, inspire, and support women, especially in the LGBTQ+ community. 

Juggling Gratitude and Luck

I was diagnosed with Stage II cerivcal adenocarcinoma just before Christmas in 2015, caused by HPV 16. Lots of people remember the date they heard those words. I don’t. I remember the fear, the disbelief, the questions, the pounding feeling in my head, and the instinct to run, far, far away. Just keep running away so this would never catch me.

October 5 will mark my five year anniversary of NED (no evidence of disease) diagnosis. I have been waiting for this day, this special marker in the cancer world, since I heard those three words, “You have cancer.” I imagined this day multiple times throughout the years. In my imagination it would be a day of huge celebrations, with a big party with my friends and family to commenorate this huge milestone. It would be a day where I would finally feel relief from the constant worry of recurrence. It would be the day my life went back to “normal” and I could magically turn back into the “pre-cancer-me .”

I was wrong.  

This day comes with many mixed emotions for me. When I was diagnosed, I thought I would go through treatment, recover, move on and never look back. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

I went through the treatments, the chemo, the external radiation, the internal radiation. Treatments that made me so sick I couldn’t work, couldn’t take care of my children, couldn’t do simple tasks like walk up the stairs or eat a small meal. Treatments that took away my fertility and put me into menopause at age 36. I went through countless side effects, including an allergic reaction to chemo, stents being placed in both ureters, a radical hysterectomy, reconstructive bladder surgery, not to mention the daily side effects I still currently deal with. These treatments almost broke me. There were many times I wanted to give up, throw in the towel and declare cancer as the winner.  It is only because of my children that I didn’t do that.

Once I had finally gotten through the treatments for cervical cancer, and hit the one year mark, I was excited. I was on the right track, moving forward. I began to get more involved with Cervivor and advocacy. I began embracing my story and sharing it with anyone who would listen. Then I got the news that I never, ever expected to hear.

I was diagnosed with pre-cancerous lesions on my vaginal wall. A new and different type of cancer, still caused by HPV.  Never, not once, did I imagine I would be dealing with a second, even more rare type of pre-cancerous lesions.  It hit me like a ton of bricks. And yet, with my new found support system through Cervivor, I felt I could handle it. I would do chemo again. I would change my diet and eat zero carbs and zero sugar to help curb the growth of these lesions. I was a woman on a mission and no one could stop me.

Two months later, after treatments, the lesions were gone but the relief still didn’t come. I went to each six month appointment expecting the worst. I became a basket case every six months, for the week leading up to my appointments and for the following week waiting for the results. I was basically incapacitated.  

I was lucky. For the next four years I had clear exams. At my four year appointment, my oncologist told me she didn’t need to see me in six months and that I could wait a full year until my next exam. I felt like this was a huge milestone.  She wasn’t worried, so I could let my guard, just a little bit.

I was wrong, again.

My five year exam revealed that once again I have lesions on my vaginal wall. This time it has wrecked me. The chemo has been very difficult, painful and exhausting. I feel like I have the flu all the time. My anxiety is through the roof, and my physical and emotional stability are precarious, at best. 

And I am still coming up on five years free from cervical cancer. I have so much to be grateful for and to celebrate.  I have not had a recurrence of cervical cancer, which means I most likely won’t. I have two beautiful children and a supportive, adoring husband. My family is amazing and continues to lift me up when I fall. My mom, in particular, is there whenever I need her, day or night, near or far, she is always there for me.  

I am grateful for the way that cancer changed me. It gave me a new purpose in my life, I have been able to lobby with ACSCAN in both California and Washington D.C. I have met the bravest, kindest, most caring women in the world, through Cervivor. Women I never would have met, had it not been for the “exclusive club,” that we were all forced to join. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought possible and that my voice and my story matter.  These are all things to celebrate.  

And yet here I sit. Tears streaming down my face.  

I am crying for what I have had to go through. For what my family, my husband and my children have had to go through. And for what we all continue to go through with this round of lesions and chemo. I am crying for the fear that I still have, and will always have, about my future. I am crying for the women I know who weren’t as lucky as I am, and didn’t get to see their five year mark. Because that’s what it boils down to. Luck. Women with the same diagnosis and treatment, and some of us survive and others do not. No one isn’t fighting as hard as they can. None of us leave anything on the table when it comes to this fight against cancer and HPV. Some of us are just lucky, and luck is a very hard thing to celebrate.  

Ana & Jeff

My five year cervical cancer NED anniversary is a conundrum of mixed emotions. I am both optimistic and fearful about my future. I am sad and in a constant state of sorrow for what I have had to endure, and for what others have had to endure, and for the luck of the draw. And yet, I am grateful. So, so, grateful. The amazing thing about being human is that we can hold all of these things at one time. 

So, here’s to five years. In honor of my journey I ask that today you live your best life. Do something that brings you joy, hug those you are close to, and reach out to those who are far away. I ask that you please make your appointments for your Pap and HPV tests, and most of all that you vaccinate your sons and daughters against HPV.

Ana is mother of two, wife, educator and Cervivor Ambassador. She was diagnosed with cervical adenocarcinoma at age 35 and has been diagnosed twice with vaginal lesions, caused by HPV. Ana is currently finishing chemotherapy treatment for these lesions. Her goal is that no woman feels alone when they receive a cervical cancer diagnosis and that her generation be the last to to deal with HPV related cancers.