My diagnosis: Early stage cervical cancer

What was scary for me: I didn’t know anyone with cancer. I never had any experiences with cancer. We never even talked about cancer. So I was terrified. I remember asking how and why I got cancer and I remember getting vague and frightening answers from my doctor. Maybe this was normal practice back then (late 1990s) – to say as little as possible as to not frighten the patient – but I learned later that information is power…being in the dark is what terrified and haunted me for years.

What I was told by my doctor:

• I was told that having multiple partners caused my cancer. I had only had two partners, one of which became my husband.
• I was told that the majority of women, even with an early diagnosis, had hysterectomies.
• I was told that I should seriously consider having one too.

My decisions regarding treatment: I was so young. I hadn’t been married long. I didn’t have any kids. SO I said no to a hysterectomy. Instead, I had 2 cone biopsies and laser surgery. I did have one natural birth and later adopted a second child.

Becoming a survivor: I never once felt like a survivor until many years after my treatment. Years later, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. At first I compared what he would be going through to what I went through. They found it. They’d biopsy it. They’d remove it and maybe he would do chemo, maybe not…but they found it! So he would be ok! Right? But, he wasn’t ok. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer, a cancer that has no early detection test and is found in the latest stages for the majority of people who get it. A cancer, like cervical cancer, that comes with a stigma. That pissed me off.

My dad was fighting the deadliest cancer killer. He was fighting for his life so I began the fight with him. I think that was when my survivor instincts finally came out. I was a co-survivor and caregiver in his cancer journey, but I also began to re-evaluate my experience and an emotional tidal wave washed over me. I had survived cervical cancer. I was no longer ashamed to say I had had it. I was one of the lucky ones, with early detection, who survived and went on to live a “normal” life. So many people like my dad, are not.

My life today: No longer in the dark, armed with information and confidence, I realize how incredibly blessed I am. I’ve been blessed to have the family I have. I am cancer free and I’m ok. But I fight in my dad’s memory and in the memory of all those lost to cancer. With that realization comes a huge responsibility to give back and make the path a bit easier for whoever comes behind me.