How my story begins: I was diagnosed with stage IIA cervical cancer in April 2001. Hearing that I had cancer was indescribable. I felt numb and couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't process it because it just didn't seem real. There's no blueprint for how to prepare for something like this – it's so personal and jarring.
Life before my diagnosis: I was working in Washington, D.C., as a successful television producer and having the time of my life! After not seeing a gynecologist for a few years, I finally went in for a routine Pap. The reasons I put it off were pretty typical: lack of insurance and body image issues.
How I felt after diagnosis: I felt a deep depression, heartbroken about the loss of a child I never had and the loss of everything I thought that made me a woman.
My treatment: My doctors told me that my best chance at living was to have a radical hysterectomy. There was also a procedure called a radical trachelectomy. But, I would have to get pregnant immediately or freeze my eggs. Harvesting my eggs was very expensive – and my health insurance wouldn’t pay for it because I was unmarried. It was impossible to raise the funds. (In 2018, I helped change Maryland's law to address this issue so other cancer patients don't face the same devastating situation.) Finally, the difficult decision was made to go ahead with the hysterectomy would be best for me. Chemo and radiation followed.
How I felt after treatment: I went from being a vivacious 25-year-old, feeling like my body could do anything, to being someone who could barely move or walk across the room. My bones felt brittle. I had no energy. At first, I needed help, and it was strange to rely on my mom and a nurse, but I was so appreciative of it. I had a blood clot, so I was sent home with an open wound. The hot flashes and night sweats were awful, but I was grateful for my second chance at life. I tried relentlessly to get back to normal – to my career, my world, a life that didn’t include cancer. But it’s hard when your body fails you, you’re constantly going in for check-ups, and everyone around you keeps asking, “How do you feel?”
What was most difficult for me: At first, it was hard to be so open about my body and a cancer linked to the human papillomavirus in such a public way. I've always been comfortable with sex and intimacy, but this felt different. It's a shame that there is such stigma around the human papillomavirus, especially since it's so common and nearly everyone will have it at some point in their lifetime. Had I known what I know now, being open about it might have been easier for both myself and others from the start. Ultimately, though, losing my fertility was the hardest part of the experience.
Where I am today: I survived. I’m cancer-free and loving life! I've dedicated my life to cancer advocacy and making a difference. Cervical cancer changed my life forever, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In November 2022, I finally found the happy ending I had almost given up on – I welcomed my son, Chayton (a.k.a. the original Cervivor Baby), into the world through embryo donation and gestational surrogacy. I have deep gratitude for my fellow Cervivor community member Ginny Marable who made it possible (and is the inspiration for a gift fund supporting other cervical cancer patients pursuing fertility options).
What I want other women to know: There is life beyond cancer. I see so many women (and men) who feel stuck, and it saddens me. Cancer is incredibly hard, destructive, and downright disrespectful, but you can thrive beyond your circumstances. It feels overwhelming when you're in the thick of it, but it’s often in those lowest moments that you discover your true strength. I was a strong-willed person before cancer, but the experience tested me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Yet, it also revealed my inner strength, and no one can take that away from me. When life gets tough and I feel like I can't go on, I dig deep and draw on the resilience I used to fight cancer. That's what I want everyone to know: We are resilient, and you can bounce back from the cancer card you were dealt.
How I will try to help others: In 2005, I founded Tamika & Friends, Inc., a nonprofit dedicated to supporting cervical cancer survivors and their loved ones – which evolved into Cervivor, Inc., the largest and most engaged community of patients, survivors, and advocates fighting against cervical cancer. At the time, the Internet was just getting off the ground. And while there were support groups, they weren't very active or inclusive. So I tried to help others by doing what I do best: talking! The more I told my story, the more it reached women. Now, through our annual Cervivor Schools, we have graduated hundreds of Cervivor Ambassadors, who work to spread awareness and eliminate stigma.