It was a 4 o’clock on a Friday when I got the call. A doctor I’d never met nor spoken to called and told me I had breast cancer. She said, “You’ll need surgery, chemo and radiation. Here are some names…let me know if you need anything else. Click.”
Of course she was doing what she could do to relay vital information, but all I could hear was the Charlie Brown teacher “wah wah wah wah wah.” I went through most of the next few weeks alternating between trying to get as much information as possible to do the right thing and be the best, most informed breast cancer patient ever, and just hearing garbled sounds as if all of my conversations took place under water.
Even though I was pretty sure I had cancer before it was confirmed, hearing those words still came as a shock. The information overload was too much to process. I was told I had time to figure it all out and make the right decisions – but actually taking time to process the mountains of information felt impossible. I wanted to act as quickly as possible to rid the cancer from my body. I did what I could to ask the right questions, to get the right opinions and to make the right decisions. Despite the vast number of resources out there – finding the answers and practical information I wanted and in a way that spoke to me was surprisingly difficult.
My family didn’t know either – and we had a wide net of support. There were so many questions, from the serious to the practical to the embarrassing: What surgery should I have? What do I say to my kids? Where can I find someone to connect to? Is a blog the best way to communicate? How do I set up meals? And what are my boobs really going to look like????
Now a year after treatment has ended I still look back at those days in a fog and realize as much as I thought I was prepared – I knew so little about what I was to endure.
I always believed I was going to make it through cancer, but having the right information at the right time could have made the process easier. I also didn’t realize that even after treatment ended I still had questions.
Ironically, one of the things I didn’t know about breast cancer is the one that has made the most lasting and profound impact on me – my journey was filled with many moments of unexpected joy as the result of the kindness of others. These are the moments that helped me make it through the seemingly endless months of treatment.
I have also made lifelong friends with many of the women who I have met through the process.
Two incredible sisters in particular have turned what could have been a wholly negative experience into a journey filled with countless bright moments along the way.
Katie and Kendra started The Licorice Project as way to help those going through the breast cancer process. Whether you’re a newly diagnosed patient, a family member or friend trying to figure out the best way to help, or a survivor looking to connect, Kendra and Katie created TLP as an online network to share resources, communicate with others affected by the diagnosis, and most importantly, bring moments of joy and laughter to others finding themselves navigating the breast cancer journey.
I am honored to be part of the network,
Jen D.
Stage IIB, Er+, Her2-
