August 18, 2012, my one year anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis

With everything going on, I haven't had a chance to reflect that a whole year has gone by since I was officially diagnosed on August 18th.

I have been reading Andrea Torres's articles in the Miami Herald every Tuesday chronicling her journey through breast cancer. She was diagnosed around the same time as me and like me, she was in her early 30s.

Hopefully with her permission, I am cutting and pasting the relevant portions of her recent blog as it really hit home:

Wednesday marks the first anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis.

This year has been one of transformation. Yes, my health and body have changed significantly, but so has my approach to living and to developing meaningful relationships in my life.

Albert Einstein was right when he said, “The only source of knowledge is experience.”

The suffering during treatment has molded my values. The meanings of the words “problem,” “urgent,” and “important” have changed. And my priorities have a new, healthier order. I have learned that balance is important.

After the first chemotherapy, it became clear that it was going to be impossible to maintain the 24/7 approach I took to my job, which I loved.

“I can’t see clearly. I am in pain. I don’t have energy. There is no way I can work from home,” I told a Miami Herald editor a few days after my first chemotherapy. I returned to the newsroom six months later, with a more balanced outlook. I now break for meals, go for walks and turn off my phone when I’m not on duty.

During chemo and radiation, I had a lot of time to think while I rested at home. Einstein has become one of my favorite historical figures. For him, time was not uniform and absolute. In 1955, when a friend died, he wrote, “People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

My perception of death has also changed. It no longer feels like a distant reality. I now like the colorful Mexican skulls that painter Frida Kahlo adored. Their bold colors and flowing designs do not speak of fear of mortality, but of an acceptance of the inevitable.

My experience with cancer has taught me that human suffering is a powerful motivator. This year, I lost many things, but not my faith in science and innovation.

We have mourned many cancer deaths recently, but none more painful than Steve Jobs, who died of pancreatic cancer.

When the Apple inventor died at age 56 in October, I was getting chemotherapy. Jobs’ son Reed set an example. Instead of drowning in pain, he focused on becoming a cancer expert at Stanford University.

I hope to live to see him reach his goal.

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/2012/07/31/2922018/breast-cancer-experience-shapes.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy

**I'm adding a footnote from one of Wendi's blogs that she wrote on 8/20/12. With her permission, I'm cutting and pasting a portion of what she wrote. Hearing how much I inspire others is truly what has gotten me through the worst of times that I've had this year:

My alarm went off at 3:45am. I was ready for my 18-miler.

I arrived at Weston Town Center at 5:10am, filled my fuel belts, used the bathroom, and was set to run. I had some shin pain at about a mile in, and my coach saw me. We talked about dropping down to 12 miles this week to train smart. Some say shin pain is a sign of greater fitness, but it can happen with increasing mileage. Mileage building is supposed to be gradual and there are supposed to be drop-down weeks in between the 16, 18 and 20 milers to allow for recovery.

I had my heart and mind set on 18 miles because it was the 18th of August, one year exactly to the day that Rotem was diagnosed with breast cancer. Last weekend during my 16-miler, thoughts of Rotem stayed strong in my mind thanks to wearing the pink breast cancer bracelet she gave to me. The reflection of her strength is what gets me through the tough times of my long runs. When you’re running in the dark, sometimes dark thoughts take over your mind. Truth be told, even as positive as I am, I have had a lot of dark thoughts lately during my long runs.

Staring at the bracelet has enabled me to flashback to when Rotem had her head-shaving party during her chemo, how she sat there so stoic, so brave and never became defeated by her fears. When chemo got really tough, she still remained fearless. She never let cancer break her. Instead, she broke it.

Thank you Wendi!