I was 37 and pregnant with my fifth child when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Five years later, one of my biggest regrets is that I have almost no photos of me during that time—no pictures with my kids, not even of my newborn. Well… technically I have two photos, and neither is great.
Cancer doesn’t define me, but it certainly shaped me. It’s a part of the journey that made me the woman I am today. And looking back, I wish I had documented it more—photos, journals, anything. They help you celebrate the steps that make you stronger.
So, if you are—or ever have to—take this difficult yet empowering journey through cancer treatment, here’s my advice: take photos. You might not want to look at them right away, but eventually, you will—and you’ll be glad you did. And if you’re afraid you won’t survive the fight, take them anyway. Your loved ones will treasure them.
Here are the two I have:
One taken by my now-stepdaughter with her Polaroid wristband camera in October 2006, just after my last radiation treatment. (Yuck—I gained so much weight!)
- Another taken by Miranda’s kindergarten teacher at Parent’s Day, toward the end of chemotherapy.
The only reason I have these two photos is that other people took them. I had completely forgotten about the one from Miranda’s teacher until it was sent home at the end of the school year.
So, take my advice: snap away, journal, document, start a blog—even a private one just for yourself. These memories are part of your story and will help define who you are.
Good luck on your journey.
—Tammy
