One year ago today, my life changed forever.
By Jennifer Bowman, DNP, PMHNP
As many of my friends, family, and patients know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. While this has been one of the most challenging chapters of my life, it has also given me a deeper perspective on resilience, hope, and healing. Over time, I’ll be sharing parts of my journey here, not to shift the focus from your stories, but to help others who may be navigating their own struggles feel less alone. I hope that these reflections can offer encouragement and practical tools for finding strength, even in the hardest seasons of life.
I’ve been trying to find the words for the past 12 months, and only now do I feel ready to share them.
Hearing the words, “You have breast cancer,” was like a punch to the gut. It took the air out of me. It’s hard to describe — it felt surreal, like I had been dropped into someone else’s life, watching it unfold from the outside.
In that moment, everything stood still. I felt paralyzed and my mind went blank. Who should I call first? Would I need chemo or surgery? What would treatment look like? Am I going to die? Would I be able to work? The fear is nothing like I have felt before, the uncertainty, the overwhelming sense of “what now?” became part of my everyday life. The first person I called was not my husband but my insurance agent to check on my policy because in that moment all I could think about was my children.
How did this happen? I have no family history and I have always exercised and ate well. I never thought this could happen to me, ever. This only happens to other people. I bounced from anger to tears over the next several weeks, finding it difficult to keep it together frankly. I really started to look at the world through a different lens, different than I ever have before. It was amazing to me how many things just became so less important. I had to accept that I had to let others take care of me which was so difficult because I have always assumed the role of the caregiver and “doctor nurse” as my kids call it. I really needed help when I laid on the couch for days after chemo. I used to call it “going in the ditch”; my coworker actually coined that term.
My cancer traveled to my lymph nodes so that made things much more serious. I went thru several tests and procedures before starting my 16 chemotherapy treatments. I truly hated the fact that I had to have chemo but I really had no choice. Those were some of the hardest days of my life. I tried to stay strong, but losing my long hair hit me harder than I expected. It felt like losing a part of myself. I sometimes felt like cancer was taking things from me one piece at a time. At the same time it was especially difficult seeing the fear in my father’s eyes, especially since he could relate to how I was feeling being a cancer survivor himself.
As hard as all this was, I made a decision: I was going to keep moving. I hired a personal trainer and committed to exercise, even on the hardest days. Some days I could only do a little, but it was something — and it reminded me that I still had power in this fight. I wanted to get as strong as I possibly could before I had a mastectomy.
I held on to hope that I would be able to save my breast. It was something I clung to during those early appointments — that maybe, somehow, I could get through this without losing a part of myself. But it wasn’t in the cards for me. The cancer was too diffuse. It had spread through too much of the breast tissue, and the safest choice — the only real choice — was a mastectomy followed by radiation. I just kept thinking “I want to be here and if this is what it takes”. I tried to use humor during this time and would say “I already got my hubby so who cares” or “I’ll have the best boobs when I’m 60”.
The procedure was more painful that I thought, and my range of motion was “crap” for weeks. I worked really hard in physical and occupational therapy, and I am continuing to improve. I completed 16 radiation treatments and have reconstruction scheduled for the fall. I have to take oral medication for the next 10 years as well. The one is a newer drug called Verzenio. It is pretty cool in that it specifically targets breast cancer cells that may have played “hide and go seek” thru my treatment. The medication scans your body for these cells and kills them. The doctors describe it as another layer of protection for me. Although this is no single universal “cure” for breast cancer, advancements like this will improve my survival rate and hopefully prevent a recurrence.
This past year has been full of fear, pain, and uncertainty — but also full of love, resilience, and surprising beauty. I’m not the same person I was a year ago. Cancer changed me, but it didn’t break me. I cherish every day and find something good in every single day! Life is a gift and I am going to cherish this life and never take it for granted. I am so lucky to be surrounded by so many family and friends, I truly am blessed. I’m still here. I’m still healing. And I’m still fighting.
Thank you for reading — and if you’re walking this road too, know that you are not alone.
