I Have Cancer; It Doesn’t Have Me

So much for a dramatic build up and a big reveal, as the title gives away the secret I have been harboring.  Recently, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and gained admittance to a club that I never wanted to be a part of, and my question as to which has been the worst year of my life, 2011 or 2015, has finally been answered, with 2015 being the clear winner.  Now, that 2015 has claimed this auspicious title, I really hope that it rests on its laurels for the remaining two months.

Revealing my secret is a decision that I remain unsure of, even as I do it.  Part of me does not want this news to go beyond my immediate family and close friends, and part of me hopes that the truth will lighten the heavy emotional load that comes with this news.  I am quite adept at hiding behind a well crafted façade, but I believe in truth in advertising, so, to speak.  And the truth is that I have breast cancer.

As I take my first tentative steps down this path, I don’t know what to expect, except for one thing.  I expect to live.  From the moment the words, “I’m sorry; you have breast cancer”, ricocheted in my mind, I decided straight away that I am getting out of this club as quickly as possible.  I am not particularly fond of the color pink or ribbons in general, and I am a much better caregiver than someone being cared for by others.  I don’t belong here.  Nobody does.

It is rather strange to not look or feel sick, yet having something lurking inside of me that means me great harm.  Sometimes, I forget about, what someone special to me has dubbed, the “shit in your tit”, and other times, I am gripped with sheer panic at the very thought that I have cancer.  All I need to do is look at the bruises and scars that dot my breast to be brought back to reality.  My carefully maintained calendar now serves up a foreboding preview of what awaits me, as it is littered with medical appointments and procedures.  This is just the tip of the iceberg, and at times, I feel like the Titanic headed straight for it.

Even though the Titanic sank, there were survivors, and I intend to be one of them.  I want to pull my fellow club members into the lifeboat with me and paint the town red, not pink.  Since there is no going back to life before my diagnosis, I can only make the best of it for those closest to me and for myself, and I hope to emerge from this whole and healed physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

So, there you have it.   The cancer’s out of the bag, yet still in my breast, and I know that as soon I publish this, I will regret it.  For it makes it even more real to share this publicly, and this is all just still so surreal.  The reality is that I have cancer, but it doesn’t have me.

That’s another story . . .


Categories: That's Another Story

Tags: , , , ,

41 replies

  1. Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love you, Kristi, and I will be praying for you. I know you are a fighter – you fought infertility and I saw you beat that monster into the ground, and you will do the same to this monster. God bless…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thought long and hard before commenting here – I know you only through your blog so feel a bit uncomfortable commenting, wondering whether it’s appropriate. But your posts so often make me smile and also often resonate with me and I felt I had to respond. Whatever I say won’t be enough but just know that you’re in my thoughts and I do hope you get all the support and love you need and deserve.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I read this on Militant Negro and just have to say Bravo!! Strikes me that sharing this experience the way you did says a lot about who you are — which is obviously positive, caring, passionate, creative, exploring — all qualities the world needs more of! So thanks for the way you’re making the world a better place! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Kristi, we are strangers. Our relationship has been one-sided, until now. Ive been enlightened, inspired & entertained by your insightful, honest words. Our journeys have been similar. I do believe in prayer & will keep you in mine. You’ve got this!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Sending love and strength and courage to you !! I am pressing HARD on the keys as I type hoping somehow you will feel my emotions. Kristi, you have brightened the world around you since I met you in high school and you WILL continue to.
    Your words are beautiful despite the news. A burden shared is a burden halved and I will be praying for you , your healing , your girls and all those who love you .


    • My friend, I thank you for all of your support and love, as they help tremendously! I am better for all of you who have been there for me no matter what, and when this is all over, I intend to give us lots of reasons to celebrate. Thank you, thank you, thank you! XOXO


  7. Oh shit! Time for your Inner Warrior to reemerge! I love you and will do ANYTHING you need. prayers, prayers and more prayers.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. So very sorry my friend. No words, a few tears, and lots and lots of thoughts. You got this, you are a warrior.


  9. No words, a few tears and many thoughts. I love you.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Kristi, I applaud you for sharing. We are all here for you, and are sending you so much love. I am so sorry that you have to endure this. xxx

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Kristi Jo… so sorry to read this as I have not been checking my reader over the past few weeks. Glad you put it out there so that those who love you can support you. Even though we may not be “friends”… you are still in my thoughts and prayers. I know for sure that you will be victorious!


  12. Reblogged this on quirrk and commented:
    This is Kristy, one of my favorite bloggers in the world, and I just read that she is battling a horrible illness.

    This is for a woman who has carried me through some of the most dark days in my life with her beautiful words.

    This is a woman I have never met, who I don’t speak to much, but someone I know is doing everything in her power to make this world a better place for all of us.

    This is a beautiful woman, and someone I know will brave through this. If you are here, reading this, pause for a moment and send your most powerful vibrations of strength and love to Kristi.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. (((hugs)))

    Thinking of you.

    Best, Mike x

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Reblogged this on Dream Big, Dream Often and commented:
    Introducing That’s Another Story!!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. My gyno just found a lump in my breast last week. I haven’t even told my husband. No point in worrying them until/if there is a reason. I have to wait until this Thursday to find out what is going on. I totally get what you’ve been through in that aspect. I hope mine is not cancer. If it is, we will paint the town red together. through prayer, I will help hold your ship afloat.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. I am smiling as I read this because your voice exudes a lot of positives and I say to myself, here is a fighter. Congratulations on your recovery. More Grace to you.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. I love your title, it truly expresses your courage. No medical condition will ever define our person. They were simply put into our lives to help us to learn, grow and become the person we were meant to be. God bless you on your continuous Journey of Life =)

    Liked by 1 person


  1. I Have Cancer; It Doesn’t Have Me | quirrk

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: