The Dagger
Imagine you just published your first book of poetry. You’ve been promoting your book, planning to attend book festivals and events and even started planning your book signing event. Then you receive a phone call at 1:36 p.m. est on March 4, 2024, on what would have been your Maternal Grandmother’s 97th birthday. The caller says, “Your biopsy reveals cancer cells.”
Those five words sucked the air from my lungs. That day, I was working from my parents’ house, since my employer at the time allowed us to work from home three days per week. I knew that the doctor would be calling sometime that day or the next but never imagined hearing those five words. I imagined her saying that the findings from the biopsy she had performed on my left breast just one week prior was benign. But life had other plans.
Time stood still for what felt like an eternity. My mother was downstairs working as well, since she had been working from home for several years following her knee replacement surgery and of course post-covid. To say I was grateful to not be alone in that moment would be an understatement.
When I snapped out my trance, I told the radiologist that I was going to put her on speaker to speak with my mom, as I ran downstairs. In that moment, I could not hear anything clearly. My head was in a fog, and my heart was racing. So many thoughts came to my mind, and unfortunately, it went to the worse-case scenario immediately because that’s what we tend to do. We tend to think the worse which only leads to more anxiety.
Towards the end of the phone call, I was able to pull myself together enough momentarily to ask a question or two. I needed to see a breast surgeon immediately. After that phone call I cried. I screamed. I cried some more. My mom tried to comfort me as best as she could. She then called my dad who was at work to let him know. He was shocked. We were all shocked. The big “C” was not what anyone wanted to hear. Well to be fair, it’s never what anyone wants to hear.
So many thoughts ran through my mind. How long have I had it? What stage is it in? What happens next? Why me!?! So many questions. My world stopped and spun uncontrollably at the same time. I didn’t have time for this. I had things to do, goals to reach, and dreams to fulfill.
Over the next several days, I felt like I was stuck in a recurring nightmare, and sleep eluded me. I tried watching funny television shows, YouTube videos, TikTok videos just to get my mind off of everything, but nothing worked. I then started hovering between positive and negative thoughts, best and worse-case scenarios and everything in between. It was getting to be too much and it had just started.
The day before my appointment with the breast surgeon, I remember looking in the mirror and giving myself a pep talk and just broke down as I was encouraging myself. One of my favorite gospel songs is Encourage Yourself by Yolanda Adams, and I tried to do just that. I cried out to God, my spirit guides, angels, and my ancestors. I even thought about who, if anyone, I should tell about this. Should I make an announcement on social media? In the end, I decided that I would make an announcement when I beat it. I had to get into that mindset that I was going to beat it.
The hardest part of the next few days was seeing my mom break down. She tried so hard to be strong and not let me see her cry, but her tears came and I had to reach out to hug her. Told her that it was fine, but she is still human and ultimately, I am her child. Her only child. Told her that God had me as she has always told me.
Over the next few months, I had more doctor’s appointments than I had over a lifetime. Blood work galore, treatment sessions, hydration infusions, cardiology appointments, imaging appointments, and so on. For months I had a minimum of two to three doctor visits per week. It was exhausting to say the least both mentally and physically. Your body becomes a stranger although it’s your avatar that you carry with you. But at times, I did not recognize myself. There was something behind my eyes that dimmed. That’s why I made it a mission to force myself to stand in front of the mirror every day and speak positivity over myself. Over my life. I was nauseous and lightheaded at random times, not to mention, the time I passed out in the supermarket. That was scary.
I was grateful however to be approved for an accommodation to work from home as often as I needed to, which was pretty much every day, and was also grateful that the time was extended especially since I would be having two surgeries once treatment was done. I also opted to have a third surgery; removal of my ovaries and fallopian tubes since due the BCRA1 gene I was at heightened risk of developing ovarian cancer, not to mention that is what my paternal grandmother had.
Then the day came when I got to ring the bell. I was so happy. It felt surreal and I was truly grateful. A few days prior I had another mammogram and ultrasound, and remember feeling like my chest was going to explode as I waited in the room alone for the doctor to read the results. When she came in, she was smiling before introducing herself, so I took that as a good sign, and it was. She told me that the mass that they saw before was now gone, and they did not see anything new. Talk about elated!! I was beyond thankful!!
Fast forward it was now time for my first surgery in August. It was going to be a big one that would be anywhere from 8-10 hours. Double mastectomy, Port removal, Ovaries and Fallopian Tubes Removed (Due to increase of those types of cancers due to the BRCA1 Gene), and Expanders put in. And then about a week later, it happened. A blood clot.
My left calf started hurting a lot, so I contacted my doctor who told me to go to the emergency room. Not only did they find one in my leg, but apparently a few had traveled to both lungs. But how grateful was I that I did not have any breathing issues or chest pain. Thank God that I went to the emergency room. I ended up staying in the hospital for about three days and was put on a blood thinner for the next three months.
I was ready to put 2024 in the rear view but at the same time I had to realize that this was but a small chapter in my book of life. Then, the date came when it was time to get my final surgery; the implants. It was scheduled for December 18, 2024, but my leg had been hurting for several days leading up to the surgery, and out of an abundance of caution, my doctor cancelled the surgery and sent me to the ER to get another ultrasound of my legs. I was upset because I was so ready to get this over with, because those expanders that they put in following my double mastectomy were quite annoying. Not necessarily painful, but they had to go. However, I had to step back and remind myself that a delay can sometimes be a good thing. Thank GOD everything was clear. Fast forward, I ended up getting the surgery February 18, 2025, and all went well. Surprisingly and thankfully, I had minimal pain, and in my follow-up appointments, the doctor said how well I was healing, and for that, I was, and still am, grateful.
Ultimately, this was a speed bump that I was going to get over. And I have. I am now cancer free!! I am a SURVIVOR!! Breasts are gone, replaced by implants, hair started growing back, and I am fully embracing this new woman I have become. I could have kept my breasts and received a lumpectomy, but the chances of a recurring or new cancer were much too high. I was not willing to take that chance. In the end, I know that I am strong. I am resilient. I am divine. I am healthy. I am so grateful for life and all of the abundance and blessings coming my way. This partially inspired the theme of my upcoming book of poetry which is a poignant and thought-provoking collection showcases the strength of the human experience throughout life’s journey using the metaphor of fire. This book serves as a reminder of our resilience, our capacity for love and destruction, and our ability to rise from the ashes. Available Spring 2026.
