Tita

“I didn’t know how strong I was until being strong was my only option.”

-Author Unknown

I was born and raised in Guatemala, smack dab in the middle of a bustling family of four kids. I proudly claim the title of the third child, or as I like to think of it, the most “vibrant” of the bunch. Growing up, I often felt like the odd one out, but as time went on, I realized I turned out to be the colorful sheep. Not the black one; the colorful one.

My mom was always the guardian angel hovering close by. She poured her heart and soul into her children, laying down the groundwork for what it means to be a nurturing parent. Though my folks had dreams of me donning a white coat as a doctor, the reality was a bit different. The sight of hospitals and medical procedures left me feeling queasy faster than you can say "scalpel," so I swiftly pivoted towards a different path—psychology called my name loud and clear in 2004.

College life flew by in a whirlwind, culminating in my graduation three years later, cum laude. But just as I was ready to spread my wings and soar into the world, life threw us a curveball. In 2007, my dad faced a daunting open-heart surgery, and in the aftermath, he needed all hands on deck for his recovery.

With no job tying me down, I became his main support, shuttling him to appointments and tending to his every need. It was a challenging time, especially when my dad's voice took an unexpected hiatus due to the breathing tubes he had needed for the surgery. Yet, through it all, his spirit remained resilient.

When his voice returned, in a moment that caught me off guard, he urged me to seek opportunities beyond our borders. He insisted, "You need to find your own path. Go and explore, study something you're passionate about, outside of Guatemala." His words ignited a spark within me—I knew it was time to take flight, armed with his unwavering support and the courage to pursue my dreams. So, with a nod and a smile, I embraced the unknown, ready to embark on my next adventure.

Ah, the glitz and glam of Los Angeles. It called out to me, promising possibilities as vast as the Pacific Ocean itself. I immersed myself in a transformative sensory integration therapy course in LA, and once it was over, I returned to Guatemala, my mind still buzzing with fresh ideas. I frequently found myself yearning to be back in the vibrant streets of LA.

My father, ever the wise and supportive one, offered me his trademark advice, tinged with a hint of mischief. He told me, "If you want to stay, look for a legal way to stay, and I’ll see how I can support you." And so, armed with determination and a touch of legal know-how, I took a leap and enrolled in an Advanced English course at UCLA, bridging continents with the power of language. But that was it; my course ended, and I had to go back home again.

Back in Guatemala, in 2010, life took an unexpected turn yet again, and I was thrust into the heart of a legal battle against government injustices. Teaming up with my formidable sister, a seasoned lawyer, we worked for years on a case that culminated in a courtroom showdown worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster.

The case ended up going to the International Court of Human Rights in Costa Rica. Justice prevailed, we were victorious, and the gears of reparation began to turn. The Guatemalan government paid the victim, and we were compensated for our many years of work on the case. I now had the means to return to the US. With stars in my eyes and dreams of LA beckoning me once more, I bid farewell to Guatemala.

Back in my medical school days, I had encountered firsthand the intensity of possessiveness that can exist in some relationships, particularly in relationships with Latino guys. I remember one instance vividly when I was dating someone who exhibited this trait to an alarming degree.

Surrounded by a group of male classmates, I found myself in a scenario where my date seized my phone, asserting his control over my time and interactions. He demanded that I prioritize him over my friendships and even over my classes. This was a red flag I couldn't ignore. I immediately made it clear that such behavior was unacceptable, promptly showing him the door and cutting ties. I never saw him again.

Later, I met my first American boyfriend who introduced me to a different kind of love—one based on mutual trust and freedom. He showed me what it meant to be cherished without suffocating possessiveness. His encouragement for me to pursue my own interests and friendships without restraint was a revelation for me. After that, I knew I wasn’t going to settle for less. It was a pivotal moment that shaped my expectations and standards in relationships moving forward.

Back at UCLA, a new chapter unfolded as I began studying interior design. Little did I know, amidst fabric swatches and color schemes, destiny lay waiting in the wings. After my first year, I met my husband, David - a Tinseltown romance that would alter the trajectory of my life forever. 

At the ripe age of 30, amidst the whirlwind of work, failed relationships, studies, and countless parties, I made a bold declaration: a dating hiatus was in order – no more suitors need apply.

But fate, ever the trickster, had other plans in mind. One lively Saturday night, I attended a friend's birthday bash at a local hotspot in Venice, Los Angeles. It was there that I first laid eyes on David - his presence was captivating amidst the bustling crowd. "He is cute," I mused, though I swiftly dismissed any notion of romance.

Yet, as the night unfolded, the call of adventure grew stronger. A hushed phone call, an impromptu afterparty until the wee hours, and before I knew it, we were sharing an early breakfast at IHOP as the dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and orange. It was a fun night.

When David asked me if he could drive me home, his eyes sparkled with anticipation. "No thanks, I have my own car," I replied, with a hint of independence. I did not want this cute stranger who I just met to drive me home. Little did I know, this simple exchange would mark the beginning of our extraordinary journey together.

I soon went out with David for a lunch date at a raw food restaurant – an unconventional start to a romance that would soon sweep us off our feet. With each word exchanged, it felt as though we were kindred spirits, woven from the same fabric of family and tradition.

A transplant from Philadelphia with a zest for adventure, David mirrored my own spirit of spontaneity. In a matter of weeks, our casual courtship blossomed into something deeper, a love as fiery and passionate as the sunsets that painted the California sky.

We met in June, a month that whispered promises of forever. August brought a positive pregnancy test, and by October, we stood hand in hand on the sandy beach, exchanging vows amidst the ocean breeze, surrounded by our families. (We had just met each other’s family the night before!) Our journey began in a whirlwind of excitement, a rollercoaster ride filled with love, laughter, and adventures, a testament to the unpredictable magic of love discovered in the most unexpected of places.

David has been an invaluable teacher in my life, particularly when it comes to communication. "Don't just get upset with me, tell me exactly what you need, and I'll do my best to make it happen," he'll often say. Over our 11 years together, his guidance has strengthened our bond immeasurably.

Despite some friends having doubts that we would last, I knew deep down that we were the real deal. As the saying goes, when you marry someone, you also marry their family. And fortunately, I've formed close bonds with his sisters and parents; they’ve added layers of richness to our extended family dynamic.

Our union is a beautiful blend of cultures: David's Irish heritage and my Guatemalan roots. Despite his initial language barrier, he bravely made the decision to move with me to Guatemala for three years, gradually embracing the Spanish language and culture. Right now, we are eagerly anticipating our trip back there for spring break, which will coincide with Guatemala's Holy Week. It is a magical time of year in Guatemala; there are vibrant processions, fragrant flowers, and delicious cuisine. It will be a stark contrast to the cold weather we'll be leaving behind.

Some have questioned our decision to prioritize the Spanish language in our children’s lives, citing the dominance of English in the U.S. Yet, I firmly believe that it is paramount to preserve their Guatemalan identity. Our kids are fully trilingual now, attending a French school while also learning Spanish at home. With the help of my sister, who moved to the states in 2019, they've even mastered reading in Spanish, and we’ve ensured that they feel confident and connected to their heritage. As we’ve continued to navigate the complexities of raising a multicultural family, David's unwavering support and love remain constant and help guide us through every twist and turn.

Ultimately, our journey is one of embracing diversity, bridging cultures, and nurturing a deep sense of belonging.

As a mother of young children, prioritizing my own health often took a backseat amidst the whirlwind of parenting. From the moment I had my first child, exhaustion became my constant companion. I experienced severe hyperemesis during my first pregnancy followed by postpartum depression. This was compounded by the rapid arrival of our second child, just 18 months later. I felt like I was living in an endless haze of black and white.

The early years of motherhood are a blur in my memory, overshadowed by the relentless demands of caring for two little ones. Sleepless nights with my youngest left me drained mentally and physically. It wasn't until I reached a breaking point that I realized I needed to prioritize my mental health.

Drawing on my background as a psychologist in Guatemala, I sought support from my professors during the COVID pandemic. It was a pivotal step towards reclaiming my well-being. Meanwhile, my husband embarked on a journey to explore natural ways to enhance our quality of life and longevity.

The first hurdle we tackled was eliminating sugar from our diets. It was a daunting task initially, even for someone like me who didn't have much of a sweet tooth. That one scoop of sugar in my morning coffee seemed like a non-negotiable at first. But through perseverance and gradual adjustments, we managed to transition away from sugar, replacing it with healthier alternatives like cinnamon and turmeric in our coffee. We began incorporating ginger teas and garlic into our meals.

Inspired by a friend, we also embraced intermittent fasting in 2021 as a means to further improve our overall health. Little did we know the profound impact these changes would have on our lives.

Our journey towards wellness has been a gradual yet transformative process. With each small step, we've discovered new ways to nourish our bodies and minds, laying the foundation for a healthier and more fulfilling life for ourselves and our family.

In 2021, my husband brought to my attention a mole on my back that seemed a bit off. Initially, I brushed off his concern, as I had had that mole for as long as I could remember. However, when my best friend and my father-in-law echoed their unease, along with my mother, I finally conceded to having it checked out.

We had been planning a significant trip to Guatemala in early 2022, where I wanted my children to experience schooling. The French school they attend in Philly has a sister school in Guatemala, and arrangements were made for them to participate in an exchange program. So, off we went to Guatemala. For the first month we were there, I was graciously allowed to rest by my parents. We had moved out of our home right before the trip, and I was exhausted. 

As our time in Guatemala unfolded, I received a job offer in Philadelphia that was going to start in March 2022. I began to accept the idea that I was going to have to shuttle back and forth between Philly and Guatemala every two weeks. As I prepared to depart, my mom reminded me of the tasks I had neglected during my stay, including a visit to doctor and a dentist.

Reluctantly, I planned a last minute visit with the dermatologist, primarily to address some dark spots on my face - (ah, vanity!) As the appointment got started, I mentioned the mole on my back that had garnered so much attention. The dermatologist examined it, and right away, her tone shifted. She remarked, "This doesn't look good."

In that moment, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Deep down, I knew. I knew that this mole held more significance than I had ever imagined. I just knew.

As the dermatologist snapped images of the concerning mole, I wasted no time in reaching out to David by text message. Without even thinking, I relayed the news to him: "I have skin cancer." His disbelief echoed through his response, "What?!" I informed him of the urgent need for a biopsy, which would be performed immediately. His concern for me was palpable.

That day, as I sat in the dermatology clinic in Guatemala—a facility renowned as one of the best in Central America—a surreal numbness enveloped my mind and emotions. While the facilities may not have mirrored those in the United States, the caliber of the students and doctors is unparalleled. Reassuring words of comfort flooded in from all directions, but it was as though they fell on deaf ears. I nodded along mechanically, absorbing their assurances without truly comprehending their significance.

The biopsy was conducted swiftly, and I returned to my parents’ home, the weight of the day's events finally crashing down on me. Tears streamed down my face as the reality of the situation sank in. The enormity of it all was magnified by the presence of my young children, who were already familiar with the realities of cancer, as they had been told about my mother-in-law’s previous battle.

Their innocent question cut straight to the heart: "Are you going to die? Like daddy's mommy?" I gathered every ounce of strength within me to reassure them, promising that I would fight it with every fiber of my being. Yet, the atmosphere was heavy with fear and uncertainty. My mother's overwhelming protectiveness compounded the gravity of the situation, casting a shadow of despair that seemed insurmountable at the time.

A few days later, I returned to the US for the new job, and I wasted no time in informing my employer about my health situation. I made it clear that I needed to return to Guatemala for urgent medical care, and thankfully, they were understanding and accommodating of my needs. So, on March 16th, I found myself flying back to Guatemala, armed with decorations for the girls to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, yet unable to shake the overwhelming sense of numbness that had settled over me.

The following day, March 17th, I revisited the dermatologist, and the gravity of my situation was laid bare. The diagnosis felt so grim: Melanoma. Surgery was deemed necessary without delay.

I reached out to a friend from medical school who happened to be an oncologist. His reassurance and willingness to see me after receiving my biopsy results felt like a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Yet, as I sat in his office on March 18th, his words of encouragement felt like a distant echo in the face of the daunting reality of a cancer diagnosis.

Despite his unwavering optimism, my knowledge of medicine and the seriousness of what it can mean to have cancer cast a shadow of doubt over any assurances of a positive outcome. The road ahead seemed fraught with uncertainty, and the weight of the situation bore down on me with unrelenting force.

The two weeks leading up to my surgery were filled with extensive testing and an overwhelming flood of emotions. Despite my best efforts, I was only able to resist the urge to Google my diagnosis for so long, and this only added to the weight of anxiety and uncertainty. The news of my diagnosis took a toll on my physical well-being as well, dampening my appetite and causing me to lose 10 pounds, as worry consumed my thoughts.

On April 5th, I faced what felt like a monumental procedure. The surgeons meticulously excised the melanoma, shaping the incision in the form of an eye and removing 2 centimeters of surrounding skin to prevent the cancer from spreading. The scar left behind serves as a visible reminder of the battle I've endured. Additionally, two lymph nodes in my neck, which had been swollen for some time, were also removed. Despite seeking medical attention in the US prior to my surgery, it was only in Guatemala that the potential significance of these swollen nodes was recognized and addressed.

During the surgery, the medical team ended up removing a total of 20 lymph nodes from my armpit, along with the melanoma and another concerning mole beneath my breast. I also simultaneously underwent surgery to address a hernia in my belly button, further adding to the array of wounds my body bore.

While the specifics of the surgery were not fully explained beforehand, I found solace in the familiarity and trust I had in the medical team. Despite the magnitude of the ordeal, I remained steadfast in my resolve, buoyed by the knowledge that I was in the best hands.

Two weeks post-surgery, we returned to the surgeon's office to receive the formal results. As I walked in, I was met with a sight I'll never forget – the surgeon wearing the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face. "Welcome! I have only wonderful news," he exclaimed. With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, we settled in as he began to speak.

With each word, a wave of relief washed over us. The melanoma was confirmed to be only stage 1, confined to the surface of the skin without penetrating deeper. It was a rarity, as the surgeon himself acknowledged, expressing surprise at encountering such an early-stage case in his practice. He assured me that I was going to be okay, a promise that filled me with hope and gratitude.

While the conversation didn't delve into the specifics of how the cancer had been contained, I couldn't help but wonder if the healthy changes we had made to our diets played a role. Melanoma, with its potential to metastasize to various organs, is a formidable foe. Yet, I found solace in the belief that incorporating turmeric and other beneficial foods and spices into our meals might have contributed to halting its progression.

Throughout this ordeal, my husband and I never explicitly discussed the potential outcomes. We each coped in our own way, finding strength in the unwavering support we offered one another. Stepping out of the surgeon's office that day, we carried with us a newfound sense of relief, albeit tempered by lingering questions and uncertainties.

As time has passed, reminders of my journey remain ever-present. Every day has served as a testament to the fragility of life and the resilience of the human spirit, and I am reminded to cherish each moment and embrace the gift of survival.

The surgery on the lymph nodes in my neck, though necessary, resulted in nerve damage that has brought about significant challenges. I harbor no blame towards anyone involved. The intricacies of removing lymph nodes in such a delicate area are fraught with risks, and the outcome can vary from person to person. It's simply the nature of the procedure.

In the aftermath of the surgery, I found myself grappling with excruciating shoulder pain that defied conventional treatment. Despite consulting with various specialists – from bone doctors to neurologists to physical therapists – the source of my discomfort remained elusive. It was a frustrating and disheartening period, marked by relentless pain and uncertainty; I couldn’t move my arm at all, I couldn’t lift a glass of water - that was the type of pain I was living with.

However, amidst the despair, a glimmer of hope emerged in the form of an online program called Chris Beat Cancer. Inspired by Chris's own journey of overcoming stage 3 colon cancer, the program advocated for a plant-based approach, with juicing as a central component. Intrigued, my husband and I decided to give it a try, and to our amazement, within just a few weeks of incorporating juicing and adopting a plant-based diet, we noticed a significant reduction in my pain levels- all over my body.

Now, our philosophy revolves around eating organic, nutrient-rich foods, and recognizing the transformative power of a wholesome diet on our overall well-being.

Over the years, these dietary changes have not only alleviated physical ailments but have also lifted the mental fog that once clouded my days. The exhaustion and fatigue that plagued me following the birth of my first child have dissipated, replaced by a newfound vitality and clarity of mind. Encouraged by these results, I strive to instill in my children the importance of self-care and mindful living, setting a positive example for their own health journey.

As evidenced by my recent check-up, where the doctor commented that I am the healthiest he has ever seen me, it's clear that the power of nutrition can indeed be transformative. From improved vitamin levels to overall vitality, the impact of embracing a holistic approach to wellness has been nothing short of remarkable for me.

Returning to Guatemala for my regular check-ups has become a familiar routine in my journey towards recovery. In the initial year following my diagnosis, these visits were scheduled every three months - a frequency that filled me with a mix of apprehension and hope. However, with each successive check-up, a wave of relief washed over me as the results consistently came back clear.

As the months passed, the doctor gradually extended the intervals between appointments, a testament to the positive trajectory of my health. From every three months to four, and now every six, the progression reflects a growing sense of confidence in my continued well-being. During my most recent visit in October, the doctor expressed his satisfaction with my progress, suggesting that if all remains well during the upcoming April appointment – marking two years since my diagnosis – we could transition to annual check-ups.

While I am grateful for the stability and positive outlook, it's important to note that I am not yet considered to be in remission. According to medical guidelines, remission is only declared after seven years of clear check-ups. Nonetheless, the designation of NED – No Evidence of Disease – brings a sense of reassurance and optimism as I navigate this ongoing journey towards healing and recovery.

I continue to seek medical care in Guatemala due to my dissatisfaction with the broken healthcare system here in the United States. A particularly challenging experience occurred in December 2023, when I found myself without medical insurance and in considerable discomfort. Despite trying various natural remedies, my symptoms persisted, leaving me feeling frustrated and uncertain about my condition.

In a moment of desperation, I turned to Telehealth services and had a brief consultation with a doctor who prescribed antibiotics for an infection. While the prescription seemed promising, my symptoms persisted, prompting me to seek further assistance from one of my trusted doctors in Guatemala.

Upon discussing my ongoing symptoms with my Guatemalan doctor, he swiftly prescribed medication and arranged for it to be brought to me in the States. With the help of my sister and a friend traveling from Guatemala to the U.S., I finally received the medication on December 23rd.

As I began the new treatment regimen, I harbored a sense of cautious optimism, hoping that this intervention would finally provide relief after weeks of suffering.

On January 1st, my discomfort persisted, prompting me to seek medical advice the following day. As I discussed my ongoing symptoms with my doctor in Guatemala, it became evident that the prescribed medication was not providing the total relief that I desperately needed. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, my doctor emphasized the necessity of an in-person evaluation, expressing his inability to effectively treat me from a distance.

With little hesitation, I made the decision to fly to Guatemala to consult with my doctor directly. Upon arrival, I wasted no time in explaining my symptoms and undergoing a thorough physical examination. Within minutes, my doctor delivered a definitive diagnosis: shingles. It was an unusual case, due to the location of my symptoms and the absence of the typical rash associated with this condition. Despite this, the doctor had no doubt in his mind.

Upon receiving the appropriate antiviral medication, I experienced a profound sense of relief as the treatment began to take effect. Reflecting on my experience, I couldn't help but contrast the straightforward diagnosis and treatment process in Guatemala with the frustrating hurdles encountered within the U.S. healthcare system.

In the U.S., my attempts to seek treatment were met with barriers, as urgent care and minute clinics refused to address my condition, insisting that I go to the emergency room instead. In the end, it was more cost effective for me to fly to Guatemala for my care than face an emergency room bill without insurance. This stark contrast in approaches highlighted the inefficiencies and complexities of the American healthcare system, where even a seemingly straightforward diagnosis like shingles was met with exorbitant costs and unnecessary obstacles.

The stark contrast between accessing healthcare in the United States and Guatemala has been an eye-opening experience for me. In the U.S., navigating the healthcare system without insurance was proving to be an arduous task, with many providers unwilling to accept patients without coverage. It's disheartening to encounter such barriers when seeking essential medical care.

The accessibility and affordability of healthcare in Guatemala has been such a stark contrast. Scheduling a doctor's appointment is a straightforward process, with minimal waiting times and reasonable out-of-pocket expenses. The cost of consultations, medications, and procedures is a fraction of what it would be in the U.S.

Witnessing the exorbitant costs associated with cancer treatment in the U.S. has been particularly distressing. I've seen individuals in my cancer support group grappling with astronomical medical bills; treatment can be an immense financial burden on patients and their families. In Guatemala, while healthcare may not be universally accessible, there is a more equitable system in place, where individuals can seek medical attention without fear of being burdened by insurmountable debt.

Despite the challenges I've faced, I'm grateful for the resources and flexibility that have allowed me to access medical care in Guatemala. Recognizing the importance of safeguarding my health, my husband and I eventually opted for medical insurance in the U.S. to ensure comprehensive coverage. But the brokenness of the healthcare system in the U.S. still remains a perplexing issue to me.

I have also found that in the United States, it can be challenging to ensure that doctors truly listen to your concerns. This became painfully clear to me in September 2016, when I noticed alarming symptoms in my daughter. She appeared pale and was struggling with her balance, which prompted me to seek medical attention. Upon our arrival at the doctor's office, the nurse initially brushed off her condition, reassuring me that my daughter seemed fine. However, I persisted, insisting on a thorough examination by the doctor.

When we returned for our scheduled appointment, I was met with skepticism once again. Despite my insistence that something was wrong, the doctor initially dismissed my daughter’s symptoms, citing her playful demeanor as evidence of her well-being. I responded by emphasizing my observations and urging the doctor to investigate further. Eventually, the doctor agreed, which ultimately led to the discovery of severe anemia with a hemoglobin level of 6.6.

The seriousness of the situation became apparent when the doctor advised an immediate trip to the emergency room for a blood transfusion. However, the manner in which he relayed this information lacked any sensitivity, and he did little to alleviate my anxiety and clarify the details of the course of action.

It's disheartening that in some instances, leveraging personal medical knowledge seems necessary to ensure one's concerns are taken seriously. My husband's observation that mentioning my medical background often garners more attention underscores the pervasive communication barriers within the healthcare system.

Ultimately, this experience highlighted the importance of effective doctor-patient communication and the need for healthcare providers to approach each case with empathy, attentiveness, and a willingness to listen, regardless of the patient's background or level of medical expertise.

The first year following my cancer diagnosis was filled with anxiety and constant worry. I found solace in my cancer support group, where I could share experiences and find reassurance from others who understood what I was going through. Additionally, my husband was an unwavering support. There were days when I felt overwhelmed, and all I needed was to lean on him for comfort. Expressing my feelings during intense moments can be difficult, especially in English, which isn't my native language. It can take time for me to articulate my thoughts and emotions clearly. When overwhelmed by chaotic thoughts, I need to find inner calmness to communicate effectively, and David helps me get to that place. His support and understanding has been invaluable to me.

Having my parents, my in-laws, my siblings, David, the girls, and my best friend by my side has been a source of immense strength. My mother, in particular, has been a constant caregiver, providing love and support in my times of need. Her presence and nurturing nature have been a true blessing throughout this journey.

Nowadays, I find myself experiencing more mental peace. I'm able to sleep better, although I do still harbor some worries, especially during the summer months when sun protection is mandatory. It's amusing, really. When I received my diagnosis, my family remarked, "But you've always been the most vigilant person about sunscreen!" Indeed, I've been diligent about sun protection since I was 18. However, perhaps I overlooked applying it to certain areas, like my back. Now, I religiously check the UV index on my weather app. During the summer, I make sure to have my umbrella, hat, sunscreen, and clothing with high UPF (Ultraviolet Protection Factor). I've even found UPF swimwear, sweaters, pants, and hats. I'm meticulous about applying sunscreen, ensuring it's reapplied four to six times a day for both myself and my children. I've managed to find a balance, and I no longer succumb to excessive anxiety like I did initially.

In 2022, countless individuals prayed for a miracle for me, and I believe I received it. I'm here, I'm healthy. Throughout the year, many positive and negative events transpired, but through it all, my husband and I emerged stronger. My journey has made me acutely aware of my health and the importance of regular check-ups. Every year on my cancer anniversary, I take to Facebook to remind others to prioritize their health. I ask, "Are you wearing sunscreen? Are you getting your medical checkups? Are you listening to your instincts and seeking medical attention when needed?"

In fact, when I initially shared my diagnosis on Facebook, a friend reached out to me via Messenger to express gratitude for my post. She admitted to procrastinating getting a mole checked, but my post motivated her to see a dermatologist. Last year, she contacted me again to reveal that she had melanoma. She credited my post for prompting her to seek medical attention. It was a profound realization for me. I may not know who reads my posts or how they'll react, but if it encourages even one person to prioritize their health, then it's worth it.

In recent years, I've rediscovered something invaluable that has greatly aided me, not just during my postpartum depression but also in navigating life's challenges, including my battle with melanoma. It's the power of gratitude. Learning to cultivate gratitude, even in the smallest things, has been transformative for me. Whenever I take a moment to acknowledge what I'm thankful for, my mood shifts almost instantaneously.

Surprisingly, there are moments when I find myself grateful for my melanoma and the journey it has taken me on. It has instilled in me a deeper sense of self-care and mindfulness, particularly regarding what I put into my body. Admittedly, there are times when I forget to practice gratitude, especially in the aftermath of my cancer diagnosis. However, a gentle reminder from someone close to me helped me realign with this practice, and now I'm more diligent about it.

I vividly recall a particular morning in Philadelphia when I found myself on the 23rd floor of the Society Hill Towers. As I drew back the curtains at 6 am and witnessed the breathtaking sunrise, I was overcome with awe. In that moment, I realized the sheer beauty of life and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for simply being alive to witness such a spectacle. It's moments like these that have profoundly shifted my perspective and imbued my daily life with a newfound sense of appreciation.

“I didn't know how strong I was until being strong was my only option.”

This quote resonates deeply with me and my journey. Throughout my physical therapy sessions for my shoulder, my therapist constantly reminds me that I am a warrior. Her words of encouragement have helped me believe in my own strength. With a cancer diagnosis, it's easy to feel like a victim, to feel defeated. But I made a conscious decision not to succumb to that mindset. Instead, I told myself and my children that I am not giving up. I am fighting with everything I have for them.

The battle isn't just physical; it's mental and emotional too. There are moments of depression and self-doubt that can hinder my progress. Without David’s continued support, navigating through these challenges would be even more daunting. He exemplifies strength and takes care of me, and he reminds me to prioritize my own well-being.

In addition to physical healing, I've also embarked on a journey of inner healing, addressing past traumas and psychological barriers. It's a holistic approach to wellness that encompasses every aspect of my being.

Choosing the quote, "Cancer is not a death sentence," was a close second for me. Initially, receiving a cancer diagnosis felt like the end of the road. But I've come to realize that it's just another chapter in my life. While some may choose not to pursue treatment or feel hopeless, I've embraced the notion that there are things I can do to support my body's fight against cancer. Education and awareness are key; more people need to understand that they have the power to make a difference in their own health outcomes.

My ultimate goal is to stay healthy and be present for my children. I am hopeful for the future, aiming for at least ten more years, but ideally much longer. Each day is a gift, and I'm determined to make the most of it.