Monday, May 2, 2011

D-Day {Diagnosis Day}

April 28, 2010 (Wednesday)

I have cancer. Cancer, Cancer, Cancer, Cancer, Cancer - Stage 3 Rectal Cancer to be exact, "Infiltrating Moderately Differentiated Adenocarcinoma" to be even more exact. Even when writing the word time and time again, I find myself still trying to distance reality; trying to put some space between what is and what should be: I should be dancing my days away while introducing my love of dance to high school students who not only would steal my moves but also my heart.

How did I get here? Last week I was pirouetting my way through life and now, I'm living hell on Earth. What is is what shouldn't be and what should be is what it isn't. I should be living the normal life of any married 26 year old. I should be house-hunting with my incredible husband who would graduate in May with a History & Philosophy degree; we should be planning when we would start planning to start a family :) , but instead, we are busy scheduling chemotherapy appointments, carefully making sure they don't coincide with radiation therapy appointments. This would be our life for the next 6 weeks: 24 hour continuous chemotherapy Monday-Friday, followed by a delicious desert serving of pelvic radiation also Monday-Friday. I guess, however, I did get to live a bit of every girls' dream, it seems cancer gives you free reign to wear no make-up, glasses, and sweat pants everyday.

When it comes down to it, this is life - scary as hell to live but even scarier to fear not being able to do so. Did I do something wrong? Can I truly "fight" this? These are the questions that now haunt my every thought. I didn't and yes, I can - those are the answers; the only answers that I will continue to tell myself throughout this inevitable journey; because this is MY life and it’s time to start fighting. Game on.


  1. So, you've been busy. We haven't spoken for a while, but I miss you. This blog is going to be amazing for so many of us that are still struggling to understand what you've been through.
    So often, we take life for granted. Who knows, maybe you've even done the same. I just want to say that I am a better person for knowing you. You will continue to change people for the better. I love you, Lisa.

    Also, talk to me soon. We're overdue for dinner.

  2. I keep looking for more blogs from you. My daughter has Stage IV rectal cancer and your story sounds so much like hers.