March 18, 2011 was a beautiful day, cool and sunny.
While many were sleeping off St. Patrick’s Day hangovers, I was driving home from the hospital thinking I should be crying because I’d just been diagnosed with breast cancer.
Darling Daughter had just passed her driver’s test the day before, and I didn’t want to spoil that memory for her. So I held off telling her, which she has long since informed me was the wrong decision. Instead I immediately called The Engineer to tell him to come straight home after work.
We went out for an Indian meal at a restaurant that no longer exists and talked about what this development might mean.
Of course, we had no idea. No one did, not even the doctors. Because every body is different, no one can predict how things will go.
I was lucky. My cancer was an average run-of-the-mill ductal carcinoma. I had a mastectomy and immediate TRAM flap reconstruction. followed by chemo to try to ensure it never came back. Of course, it wasn’t quite that straightforward, and I ended writing a blog about my “Cancer Lessons.” The lessons are a little out of order because I deleted and then re-wrote some, but if you ever want to read it, you can find it here: https://kabcancerlessons.wordpress.com/.
Ten years have passed. Today, it’s warmish, grey, and rainy, and I have cause for celebration because I’m still here!
This is also a good day to remember my friend Pat who managed to cram a lot of living into the four years following her ovarian cancer diagnosis. A brilliant quilter, gifted musician, loving wife, mother, and grandma who wasn’t afraid to laugh at both herself and life, Pat left behind memories of joy and love (https://kymlucas.me/2016/01/21/how-to-create-a-legacy/).
Namaste, Pat. May we all leave behind such a legacy.