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PART 2 The Months They Broke Me Slowly

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PART 2  The Months They Broke Me Slowly Disclaimer:  Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy. Real drug names are used with the understanding that individual experiences vary. The medical experiences described are the author’s personal account. A Case File of a District That Chose Cruelty Over Humanity You don’t wake up one morning and suddenly realize your workplace has turned into a battlefield. It happens slowly. One unanswered email at a time. One ignored medical warning at a time. One perfectly avoidable humiliation at a time. Until one day you’re sitting in your car, shaking, crying, and realizing the building, the district that you hand-picked because these were the students you had in your heart to teach, the people dedicated your life to,  would rather let you crawl than help you walk. Cancer didn’t do this to me. People did. People with job titles. People with authority. People with badges that say “leader,” but hearts that say no...
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Part 1: Cancer didn't break me. My school district did

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PART 1 Cancer Didn’t Break Me. My School District Did. When I was a little girl, I used to tell people I was going to be a teacher. People laughed. Teachers rolled their eyes. A Bachelor’s degree? For me ? Hilarious. I was the kid who couldn’t sit still, couldn’t focus, couldn’t stop moving. The kids adults “tolerated.” The kid they predicted wouldn’t make it through high school. The kid no one held, no one defended, the one teachers talked about instead of to in cold, fluorescent IEP conference rooms where adults dissect children like paperwork, not people. But I survived that. I became the teacher I needed. Not because anyone paved the way for me, but because nobody did. And before anyone gets confused — no, I don’t blame my mother for a single second. Parenting in the early 1990s was a different universe. Words like ADHD, Autism, dysregulation — those weren’t part of the everyday language they are now. It was big feelings, long tests, wild energy, and adults guessing ...
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What I Wish I Could Tell the Woman Still in the Battle

 What I Wish I Could Tell the Woman Still in the Battle? I feel like this is one of the most powerful questions I ever get, and honestly, I don’t think most people are ready for the real answer. Cancer filled me with rage. The kind that keeps you up at night asking, Why me? What did I do — in this life or the last — to deserve something so horrible? Am I really that bad of a person? Am I everything cruel people have ever said I was? If I could go back to that young girl, I wouldn’t lecture her or try to fix her. I’d just sit with her. Listen. Lay beside her in the quiet. There’s nothing anyone could do to take away the pain of treatment — nothing. But I’ll tell you this: the battle doesn’t end when chemo stops. If you’re reading this and think the fight is over… you’re dead wrong. The battle changes, but it never really ends. If I could speak to her, I’d tell her: You’re right — it does feel like no one cares. You’re right — it feels impossibly lonely. And I’m so sorry it hurts lik...
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The woman I was before cancer, and the woman I’m becoming.

 The Woman  I   Was  Before Cancer,  and  the  Woman  I’m Becoming The woman I was before cancer? Young. Wild. Free. No joke, I was always doing something out of left field. I never slowed down long enough to really think about why. I was that person who knew someone from every friend group in school but somehow still felt like I didn’t truly belong anywhere. When you’re overstimulated all the time, it’s hard to get close to anyone. You feel too different, too much, too something. Athletics and music were my escape. Cheer, track, constantly outside — I looked like a normal kid, but I was struggling hard underneath. ADHD and autism weren’t really talked about back then. I wasn’t diagnosed until fourth grade. I could master anything quickly, but sitting still? Taking a test? Forget it. That’s actually what pushed me into teaching. I wanted my kids to know they were loved — not for what they could put on paper, but for who they were. I wanted...
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The Hardest Thing About Life Post-Cancer Nobody Warned Me About

  The Hardest Thing About Life Post-Cancer Nobody Warned Me About The hardest part about life post-cancer? Honestly… everything. No one talks about what life really looks like after cancer. And when they do, it’s something trivial, “you won’t have libido” or some other superficial worry. Let me tell you, when you get diagnosed with stage 2b invasive ductal carcinoma wrapped in DCIS that has reached your lymph nodes, and you have a baby waiting in the next room for you, your libido is the last thing on your mind . Cancer thrusts you immediately into overdrive. But here’s the thing: after cancer, the trauma lingers in ways you can’t predict. You never know what will trigger memories of that battle, or when it will hit you like it’s happening all over again. Hi, I’m Mrs. ST, Mrs. Sweet Tea, Mrs. Trujillo… or just Rhianna. Five years ago, at 25, I was diagnosed with cancer. Six days after my 26th birthday, I started chemo. If you know anything about health insurance, I paid four pre...
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