Hello, beautiful friends. 🌿
This morning, I woke up with a weight heavier than I’ve felt in a long time. I have an appointment with my oncologist, and the dread feels suffocating. My bloodwork shows a slight increase in cancer markers—just three points out of 100. Statistically, it’s insignificant, but emotionally, it’s crushing. The changes in my tumor are visible, and the pain in my breast and back near T6—where cancer previously lingered—is sharper, more persistent.
Walking into the doctor’s office feels like stepping into the unknown. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about giving up. These thoughts—dark, unwelcome, and isolating—creep in despite my efforts to push them away. But they’re real, and they’re part of this journey.
The Appointment: A Mix of Relief and Resolve
And then, the moment comes. The conversation with my oncologist isn’t as devastating as I feared. The increase in markers? Insignificant. Restarting tamoxifen and hormone suppressant therapies? Manageable. Another PET scan? Necessary, but not the end of the world.
Yes, the prognosis is still a 3-to-5-year window. But today, hearing it didn’t crush me the way it has in the past. Maybe because I’ve already defied the odds. Maybe because I’m choosing to focus on the light rather than the shadows.
The Battle Within
What makes this journey so hard isn’t just the treatments or the scans—it’s the battle inside. It’s the fear of telling my loved ones. The fear of facing the same hard conversations over and over. The fear that this pain might never end.
Some days, it feels like healing is the farthest thing from what’s happening. The emotional toll of confronting my own mortality, again and again, is exhausting. But I’ve realized something profound: the hardest part isn’t the doctor’s words or the tests. It’s the fear of those things—the buildup in my mind that magnifies the darkness.
Moving Forward: One Step at a Time
So, what do I do? How do I keep moving forward when every fiber of my being wants to retreat?
I let myself feel.
I breathe deeply and intentionally.
I pray for strength and clarity.
I ground myself in the love of those who support me unconditionally.
I remind myself that healing is messy. It’s not a straight line or a clear path—it’s a series of choices to keep going, even when it feels impossible.
For Those in the Darkness
If you’re in a place where the weight feels unbearable, please know you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel scared. It’s okay to feel broken. But don’t let those feelings define you or stop you. Healing doesn’t mean never having dark thoughts—it means choosing to keep moving despite them.
Sometimes, the best you can do is show up. Show up for the appointment, the conversation, the next moment. And that’s enough.
A Closing Reminder
Walking out of my oncologist’s office today, I felt a strange mix of relief and resolve. The road ahead won’t be easy. The treatments, the scans, the waiting—they’re all still there. But so is hope. So is the possibility of healing. So is the chance to create moments of joy and gratitude, no matter how small.
If you’re reading this and you’re in your own battle—whether it’s with illness, fear, or life’s uncertainties—know that you are seen, you are loved, and you are stronger than you realize.
Let’s keep moving forward, one breath, one prayer, one step at a time. Together, we’ll find the light again.
With love, faith, and resilience,
Jen
#HopeInTheDarkness #HealingJourney #FaithAndStrength #MindsetMatters #ApotheCaringJen #CancerSurvivor #KeepMovingForward
