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 premiums in 12 months. It was a time of financial and emotional devastation, ending in massive debt, because cancer is expensive.

Here are the top three things that are hard, and nobody talks about:

  1. Friendships change. You feel older than your peers, yet younger than anyone who has been through cancer. People expect you to “be fine now,” or they see your exterior and think you must be healed.

  2. Fear and trauma linger. The fear of it returning, the emotional processing, the sleepless nights. It never fully leaves.

  3. Grieving the life you lost. The person you were, the career you dreamed of, the milestones you imagined. Gone, reshaped by this battle.

After chemo, after standing on death’s door, trying not to lose yourself entirely, I realized there is no going back. I grieve the woman I could have been. But I also know that God has a plan for me. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Even when the path isn’t what I expected, He has given me life — life to see my child grow, to teach him, and to love fully.

Let me set the scene: It’s September 11th, 2020. The world had shut down, and I was going under for a double mastectomy and reconstruction. I woke up hours later to discover my cancer was more advanced than anyone had realized. Stage 2b invasive ductal carcinoma. Years of pleading for help, ignored by doctors, led to this moment. And yet… I survived. I was alive. I could still see my child grow. I could still fight.

Five years later, the battle continues. The “magic” drugs that kept me alive have left lasting effects: leg pain, swelling, fatigue, headaches, body aches, poor circulation, brain fog. These side effects make it difficult to work, to teach, to live fully. I am medicated, tired, and adjusting to a life I didn’t plan — but I’m still here.

The medications I’m on include:

  • Anastrozole

  • Zoledex

  • Lupron

  • Herceptin

  • Perjeta

  • Steroids

  • Antibiotics

Even with all of this, I am profoundly grateful. My faith has been my anchor. Romans 8:28 reminds us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Cancer changed me, yes, but it also brought me closer to God and to the person I am meant to be now.

Every day, I grieve the life I could have had. Every day, I choose to see the life I do have as a gift. I am grateful for the women He has placed in my life, the love of my child, and the opportunity to share my story, messy, raw, and real, with you.

Life after cancer isn’t what anyone expects. It’s harder than anyone warns you.But it is also filled with grace, faith, and a deeper appreciation for every single day we are given.

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