Journal entry by Martin Pulrang —
42? Why 42? I am not talking about the number from The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy but more on that later.
Lisa wrote this today:
July 20, 2021, changed my life forever. A cancer I knew I would get one day finally caught me at 45. With a family who has faced cancer so many times, as well as the BRCA gene that genetically predisposed me, I just knew I would one day be called a breast cancer survivor. Not just a survivor but a warrior. I escaped chemo or radiation because I was diligent in my yearly mammograms and chose a double mastectomy versus trying to hold on to the originals. I would choose the same form of treatment again even though the road was tough. Today we celebrate.
Lisa's last surgery was on June 7th, and, as you can probably do the math on this post, today marks one year since she received her diagnosis of cancer, and there she is downplaying all she has been through. The weeks since surgery have been far more challenging than we anticipated. Physically speaking, the weeks have been what we expected. Lisa, as with the previous six surgeries, has recovered physically very well. However, it has been a challenge mentally and emotionally to get past this last surgery, and it caught us both off guard. We realized that there was always a goal to keep her moving forward. Her support system was still fully engaged, and there were clear next steps. However, after the last surgery, it was "finished," and the finality of it hit home. We were done. Therein lies the problem. We now have the mental and emotional next steps to face, and we have begun facing them together. On July 7th, Lisa was beating herself up about how she looked, felt, and thought, and we battled over it. I yelled, as much as one can yell lovingly, to STOP. Stop trying to fit a mold. Stop trying to meet some manufactured standard. Stop beating yourself up. Just STOP, and try to start giving yourself some grace. Later that night, after I went to sleep, Lisa wrote the following and posted it on Facebook:
Lisa wrote this today:
July 20, 2021, changed my life forever. A cancer I knew I would get one day finally caught me at 45. With a family who has faced cancer so many times, as well as the BRCA gene that genetically predisposed me, I just knew I would one day be called a breast cancer survivor. Not just a survivor but a warrior. I escaped chemo or radiation because I was diligent in my yearly mammograms and chose a double mastectomy versus trying to hold on to the originals. I would choose the same form of treatment again even though the road was tough. Today we celebrate.
Lisa's last surgery was on June 7th, and, as you can probably do the math on this post, today marks one year since she received her diagnosis of cancer, and there she is downplaying all she has been through. The weeks since surgery have been far more challenging than we anticipated. Physically speaking, the weeks have been what we expected. Lisa, as with the previous six surgeries, has recovered physically very well. However, it has been a challenge mentally and emotionally to get past this last surgery, and it caught us both off guard. We realized that there was always a goal to keep her moving forward. Her support system was still fully engaged, and there were clear next steps. However, after the last surgery, it was "finished," and the finality of it hit home. We were done. Therein lies the problem. We now have the mental and emotional next steps to face, and we have begun facing them together. On July 7th, Lisa was beating herself up about how she looked, felt, and thought, and we battled over it. I yelled, as much as one can yell lovingly, to STOP. Stop trying to fit a mold. Stop trying to meet some manufactured standard. Stop beating yourself up. Just STOP, and try to start giving yourself some grace. Later that night, after I went to sleep, Lisa wrote the following and posted it on Facebook:
Cancer is a journey that is filled with so many emotions and experiences. Its been almost a year. 10 months and 7 surgeries, I can now say I am close. I just need a little bit more time to heal before I can call it done. It’s been a fight at times to keep going with a good solution focused attitude. It simply takes just putting one foot in front of the other to get you to the finish line. Days and months have passed faster than ever before. Cancer takes bravery, courage, fear, love, sadness and patience. It’s a time where you are shown who your true friends are versus your fair weather friends that go absent. It’s a time when new friendships are made because a stranger took the extra time. It’s a time to learn how to live with your new body and accept the new you. Cancer brings a hidden and constant uncomfortableness from incisions, swelling and reconstruction. It’s a time to slow down. While others are enjoying life through exercise and movement I am reminded how limited my range of motion still is. It’s a time to accept it’s just not your time but yet be hopeful for the future and be ready when it is.
It’s remembering I am loved and my cancer is gone and should never come back! It’s remembering that my husband has the same emotions and hurdles as me. It’s being my nurse, emptying my drains, changing bandages, helping me shower, getting me up from the bed or couch, managing medications and providing emotional support through the last 7 surgeries. It’s being lifted up when I feel ugly and disfigured and reminding me just how loved and beautiful I am in his eyes. It’s remembering more hard work is coming to get back in shape and relearn how to use my new body.
My prayer is that one day I don’t think about my breasts and they begin to feel natural and a part of me. I hope I can help others and be a light in their darkness. I hope I remember how loved I felt when people went out of the way to make me feel good and forgive the people who really let me down. I pray for strength when I expect more from my body than it can give and for God's loving arms to be wrapped around me now and forever.
Simply amazing...she has been amazing through it all, and I stand in awe.
So, while 42 may be a computer's answer to the meaning of life in a film from many years ago, it is also the number of days we are late making this post. And it's not a day too soon.
Simply amazing...she has been amazing through it all, and I stand in awe.
So, while 42 may be a computer's answer to the meaning of life in a film from many years ago, it is also the number of days we are late making this post. And it's not a day too soon.
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