A Badass Two-Time Cancer Thriver.

Thanks for your interest in Share the Momentum.

I’m so excited to share my story as I know the littlest spark of positive energy can create a tidal wave of momentum.

I was diagnosed with non-small cell adenocarcinoma lung cancer on Sunday, October 19, 2019. And while it was certainly a shock, there was also relief as I knew since February of that year that something was not quite right in my body. I was never a smoker, young, and otherwise in great health, and I knew I could move forward with a plan. But things don't always go according to plan. My doctors attempted surgery on October 30 to remove the upper left lobe of my lung, but unfortunately found lesions on my chest wall that were not detectable on any scans. That was a very low and dark time for me. My teeth chattered when my sister came to visit me in the hospital. The fear was palpable, and I was terrified. I was a mom of three young children, and my future felt so uncertain. 

Acceptance can be a really big pill to swallow. 

After a tough recovery, I was referred to Dana Farber to begin chemotherapy. I remember looking at myself in the mirror, talking to the cancer, and saying, "I know you're in there, but you're not going anywhere else in my body. You're not going to win."

There are moments in your life when you reach a crossroad. You can curl up on the couch and give up or stand up and fight. I chose to fight. 

I decided shortly after that that I was not only going to fight, but I was going to fight with gratitude. I was going to look at everything a cancer diagnosis brought to my life instead of focusing on all the things it was taking away. The joy of a cancer diagnosis. 

In my first email update to family and friends, I mentioned that facing cancer is like encountering a bear—you have to make yourself bigger than it and stare it straight between the eyes. My social worker, Suzanne, reminded me that it wasn't just the cancer I was staring down. It was all of the fear, worry, anxiety, and uncertainty that I needed to face.  

It was then that the idea and vision for a different kind of lifestyle brand was born. I came up with a variety of ideas and marketing strategies with two wonderful friends, and they developed an amazing logo. I took a picture of the life is good display at a local store and kept it on my phone. And then, I let life and other distractions put my dream on the shelf.

On December 14, 2021, I finished my 28th round of chemo and was considered stable, a word I've also learned to embrace. My thoracic surgeon went so far as to call me an "extreme survivor." That was a wonderful, magical day, and I will never forget the pure joy and relief on my children's faces as I pulled into the driveway. 

However, lung cancer can be sneaky. And after seven months of treatment and feeling like I had a sense of normalcy in my life, I learned I had disease progression. I had been experiencing dull intermittent pain and tingling sensations in my head for several months. I had also recovered from a brutal bout with COViD around Easter. In June of 2022, I knew something was off again as I started having short-term memory loss and occasionally using the wrong words. Following a brain MRI in July, I received the news from Dana Farber that evening. Cancer had moved to my brain—a nearly two-inch tumor and about 30 lesions. Another day of complete disbelief but confirmation as I knew in my heart something wasn't right in my head. 

The day after this news, I had a seizure at home and had an emergency craniotomy a few days later to remove the larger tumor that was bleeding and pressing on my brain. Two days later, I was being discharged when the nurse took a photo of my incision and showed it to me. I was utterly shocked, and the words just fell out of my mouth. "I am a badass." And then the tears started flowing for the immense gratitude thinking about my neurosurgeon and her incredible gift of saving my life that day. "Dr. Bi is a badass." At that moment, in that hospital bed, I decided to finish what I had started. I walked into my home that day frail, weak, and unable to feel the left side of my head, but I looked at those three babies and said, "I am a badass, and we're going to sell T-shirts."

It's taken lung cancer coming back a second time for me to step out of my comfort zone, let go of my fear of failure and turn the idea I envisioned three years ago into a reality. While I'm back at Dana Farber with more rounds of stronger chemotherapy, I continue to live, love, and thrive in the present. 

Lung cancer is my story. It doesn't define me, but it is woven into the fabric of my life. We all have a bear we've had to stare down or moments in our life when we've had to be badass brave. We all have an inner strength to tap into and are bigger than the battle. This really is about something other than selling hats and t-shirts. I hope that telling my story will create a movement of sharing momentum, empowering others to be vulnerable, and having the courage to shift fear to courage and face whatever life throws at them. 

Living alongside a cancer diagnosis has been very challenging at times. My life has revolved around my treatment schedule, and there are days I feel like I am barely keeping my head above water. But I've learned to pivot and shift my focus to gratitude, on doing things I love, the power of prayer and a positive mindset, the body's ability to heal, and the countless gifts of unexpected delight. The incredible love and support of my wonderful family and a circle of old and new friends have lifted me throughout this path. A world-class team of doctors, nurses, social workers, and integrative support to treat and care for all of me. 

And then there are those three beautiful children. My most precious treasures and best teachers who have gifted me through their strength, resiliency, compassion, and care. 

Today and every day, I will continue to fight with gratitude. My story isn't over, it's just beginning, and the best is yet to come.