11.12.13. Hands down one of the worst days of my life. Even still, I hate the feeling of leaves falling on me because they were falling in abundance as I walked into the doctor’s office for my biopsy results. 

There are many words I could choose to focus on when thinking about this day – terror, sadness, anger, grief, shock. Those words still cross my mind. But the one I decide to focus on – love. 

I find it cathartic to share pictures on these types of anniversaries and I pulled this one out of the vault… 

This picture was taken after my first mastectomy + reconstruction on November 27, 2013. I was being wheeled out of recovery (in the middle of the shot – you can only see the back of the stretcher and the nurses), my family saw me and along they came (even though they weren’t immediately allowed to come with me). Mom, Dad, Nonnie, Aunt Angie, Aunt Mary and Rusty – all in a row. I was so drugged up and in serious pain, I could hardly move or open my eyes. But I could hear them asking the nurses questions and calling my name. I wasn’t able to show it, but I was cracking up. What a hilarious group they made – slightly angering the nurses with their questions and comments that came in quick succession. “How’s she doing?” “Cassandra?” “Sweetie, can you hear me?” “Where is she going now?” “Is she okay?” “Can we go with her?” “When can we see her?” “Cassandra?” 

As I was wheeled down the hall, I thought – my God, I love these people. They would follow me anywhere just so I wouldn’t be alone. To make sure I knew that I was loved and safe. And to make me laugh. 

That kind of love has serious, life-altering power. I was filled to the brim with it. I inhaled it, held my breath and kept it there until April 11, 2014 – my last chemo. (I can’t rid my mind of these dates.) For that long, brutal winter that love helped me survive. I think it still does. 😊❤️


3 thoughts on “11.12.13

  1. Pingback: #YWBC: Cassandra | Rethink Breast Cancer

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