Choosing Better Over Bitter

I’ve learned in life that there are three types of choices: There are easy choices, there are difficult choices and there are choices that are made for you.

Sunday morning, July 26, 2015: He said, “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t love you. You aren’t the woman I married, you have no passion… we are like roommates. CANCER CHANGED YOU.” He said a lot of other things too. And then he was gone.

That Sunday morning was the second time in my life I felt a choice was made for me and I had no say in it.  The previous time was the day I was diagnosed with cancer some 10 years earlier. The months leading up to that Sunday morning I had been to the hospital no fewer than 10 times, I had stayed for a total of 11 days, I had been to the ER probably 5 times, and I had a major surgery and more tests than I could count… I was so sick that Sunday morning, my doctors didn’t know what was wrong with me, and my marriage just came to a screeching halt. That day and the week following I wanted to make what seemed like an easy choice, I wanted to die. I know that may sound morbid and even dramatic, but that seemed to be an easier choice than what laid before me.

Between another hospital stay (a month this time) and some devastating correspondence, I was pushed to my end. I was so low, so exhausted, and simply beat down. The night of my birthday, in late September, I had a life altering conversation with a dear friend who reminded me that I was a survivor. She reminded me that there were people who loved me; my family, friends, and colleagues and even though I felt a great deal of shame, deep down I had to know I had value and purpose. I am not going to sugar coat it, going through a divorce is horrible… divorce after 12 ½ years of marriage is even more horrible. Being told that a disease you didn’t choose was the reason for your spouse leaving is devastating, but I had been through this type of “horrible” a few times before. I could survive this too.

I can’t tell you the exact day, but later that Fall I made a conscious decision to not give up on my life and the hope of love. This was my difficult choice. I knew I had to unpack so many painful things that had existed in my life for years. There was trauma from going through cancer treatment, unhealthy behaviors from a toxic marriage, and even things from my childhood that I had never faced and they were all bubbling at the surface waiting to be let out.  The journey that was ahead was sure to be difficult, but I had to make a decision that I was worth it so that I could live part two of my life as I believe God had always intended. 

For that year, I dedicated myself to weekly therapy. I worked ferociously at weeding out the things that were holding me back, that scared me, and that were hindering me from being all I wanted to be. Believe me when I say that it was an emotional roller coaster, but it was a ride that I would take over and over again, to get to the place I am today.

About a year after that fateful Sunday, my life made a sharp right turn and what would happen over the next year could have never been planned. I know that a series of choices in my life led to me that place that Friday evening. I walked into a restaurant, butterflies in my stomach, and he stood there. He being, the man that would change my life. A couple months earlier I had chosen to dip my toe back into the dating world. Being divorced caused a lot of fear and shame for me, but I worked hard to face that head on and allow a healing process to work in me. 

The healing process after my divorce was much like healing after cancer treatment. The first few months I was emotionally and physically spent. It was hard to do anything and a level of depression existed so much that I just got used to it. Then about six months into it I began to feel like the fog was lifting and I could regain some footing. There were some noticeable side effects and I realized I needed more healing. I continued to trudge on, added some exercise into my routine and started to take care of myself spiritually, emotionally, and physically. About a year into it, I looked back and was amazed at how far I’d come. 

Whether it be from cancer, from grief, or from the end of a relationship, there is no quick fix for healing. That being said, you do have a choice in how it is to happen. I made a choice amidst some pretty devastating circumstances, to live again. I made the choice to believe in healing, to believe that I was lovable, and that I could make part two of my life so much better than part one. 

Today I am married to the man that was standing in the restaurant waiting for me. I continue to seek therapy as I need it, and I continue to take care of myself spiritually, physically and emotionally. I know not everyone’s circumstances are the same as mine, but what I do know is that making the choice to do the hard work of healing allows for so much beauty to come after the tragedy. Following the deep, dark moments of my life that entered that Sunday morning, I can say with satisfaction, I won. I chose to be better, not bitter.

Kristin is a 44 year old elementary school teacher living in San Diego, California. She is a native San Diegan who loves all things sports, hiking, and animals. She loves living life with her husband Hugh, her two stepdaughters, three grand babies and her three dogs. Kristin has been cancer free since December 2005 and she is a 2015 Cervivor School graduate.

Year Twenty

March 17th, 2019… St. Patrick’s Day for most, a totally different day for me. This year, more significant than ever before, because on this day I hit a significant milestone. Today marks 20 years since the day I heard the words that changed my life forever: “You have cancer.”

I know I write about it every year, but writing this, today, on year #20, is surreal. 20 years is a lot of time for any cancer survivor.

I was 27 years old when my world came crashing down. I had been struggling with some vague symptoms and suddenly the profuse bleeding began. Imagine yourself in my shoes. Imagine yourself rushing to the ER for the second time in a week because you are bleeding so much that blood is literally seeping through your pants. Imagine being seen by a doctor that within minutes of checking you decides to transfer you to another hospital because he realizes that what you have is serious and much more than he and that particular ER can handle. Imagine yourself being rushed to another hospital in an ambulance, knowing you are on the way to THE HOSPITAL, the one where all serious cases are routed. You now know for sure that something is terribly wrong. The attending sees you and knows exactly what he is looking at, he performs a biopsy, packs you to stop the bleeding (all the while you are screaming in pain) and admitted to the hospital. Imagine yourself, a generally healthy person, in a hospital bed after losing so much blood that you now need a blood transfusion. You are scared to death. You see the look in your family and friends’ eyes and know they are terrified for you. You are just 27 years old and have your whole life ahead of you but based on what’s going on, you don’t know how much life that will be. Imagine yourself returning home after a couple of days, albeit not able to work yet, you are too weak for that. Imagine yourself a week later, showing up to the outpatient clinic early in the morning for your follow up visit. Almost everyone around you is seen and you are still there, waiting. You hear someone say “they leave the bad news for last.” Suddenly you realize that you are the last patient.

You enter the exam room and are met by the attending and a couple students. The attending holds your hand and tells you: “I am so sorry, you have cancer.” You ask for a minute, you don’t want to hear this news while you are in stirrups. You sit up and hear the words again, you are fighting tears. He asks you if you have children and you answer “no.” He follows up with “I’m sorry, you will not be able to have children of your own.” You can’t hold your tears anymore, this is pretty much the end of your life. You are overwhelmed and scared and ask the only question that seems to make sense: “how much time do I have,” the doctor doesn’t know… you don’t know if that is good or bad. Amidst all this you are given tons of information, referrals and instructions; nothing makes sense, all you can think of is cancer. This is definitely the worst day ever.

Imagine telling your mother that you have cancer; you watch her breakdown in front of you and you are unable to comfort her because you are just as terrified. Imagine calling your close relatives and your best friend to tell them the news; you hear them cry even though they are doing their best to keep it together for you… they too think this cancer will kill you but they want to be supportive for your sake.

Imagine living the next year of your life attending 3-4 appts. per week, not being able to work. Imagine experiencing a pulmonary embolism that lands you in the hospital for a whole month and nearly kills you, cancer is suddenly not the only thing you have to fight, there is so much more that comes with it. Imagine throwing up for a week straight after your monthly chemo treatment, or being isolated in a room for 3 days while receiving internal radiation, or being unable to leave the house because side effects from the external radiotherapy has you going to the bathroom too many times to count. Imagine not being able to eat your favorite foods because chemo has changed your taste buds. Imagine your “social life” is now one medical appt. after the other. Imagine living a whole year of your life feeling weak, being hospitalized again due to side effects of your treatment, suffering through painful and debilitating treatments with no guarantees that they will work. Imagine going to your oncologist appts. and noticing that the people that are usually there the same days you are, are looking worse and worse each time you see them until all of the sudden one by one you don’t see them anymore. You know exactly what happened and wonder if you are next.

Imagine waiting for results once the treatment is completed… you are not told you are “cured”, you are told that you are good for now but will have to continue coming in for regular testing. You now see a gynecologist-oncologist and a hematologist-oncologist, a radiation specialist, an internal medicine specialist, a pulmonologist, and a gastroenterologist every single month for the foreseeable future. This is your life now and you don’t know if you will survive the next year, or the next, or the next. Nothing is guaranteed.

So here we are on March 17th, 2019: 20 years later. For cancer patients, the 5-year survival milestone is significant; we know a lot of people don’t make it…that 5 year mark is cause for celebration and some relief. I’ve been blessed to see the 5 year mark, the 10-year mark and now this incredibly important milestone: 20 years. By the grace of God, I survived a cancer that kills more than 4,000 women in the US every single year. This is huge!

As I learned more about the causes of cervical cancer, I became an avid advocate; talking about it is important, it may save someone’s life. Connecting with Cervivor solidified my commitment to advocate and educate others and it also connected me with hundreds of other women facing the same, often misunderstood, cancer. The vast majority of cervical cancer cases are caused by a persistent human papillomavirus infection (HPV). HPV is transmitted through skin to skin sexual contact (no penetration needed) and it is so common that 8 out of 10 people are infected even though they may not be any symptoms. Cervical cancer can be prevented or detected early through regular Pap and HPV tests; but most importantly, HPV infections can be prevented with a simple vaccine. The HPV vaccine, when administered prior to exposure (recommended for ages 11-12), can prevent infections with the high risk strands of HPV which are linked to cervical cancer and other cancers as well (vaginal, vulvar, anal, penile, oropharyngeal). Yes, the HPV vaccine can help the next generation prevent HPV infections and related cancers. It can’t be any easier: vaccinate and protect against cancer.

Maria sharing her story in Colombia, spring 2018.

After 20 years I have learned to live with the long-lasting side effects of my treatments, my body is not perfect but is in better condition than expected; I am back to annual checkups and that’s a great place to be. I’ve had the opportunity to start over. I am as healthy as I can be, married to an incredible man, a stepmom to 2 pretty awesome kids, have the sweetest dog and have experienced so much love and joy in my life… 20 years sure calls for a celebration. I am blessed.

In writing this, I hope my story motivates you to schedule your Pap & HPV tests and to vaccinate your children to protect them against HPV and if you are a cervical cancer patient, I hope my story gives you hope for life after cancer. This is how we celebrate year #20.

Watch Maria share her story on CervivorTV here.