Life Sure Is Interesting

So much of what has happened to me in recent years has led me to find my way into this career area that I am passionate about. How many people are lucky enough to say they love their job so much that they have to drag themselves away from it in the middle of the night in order to get some sleep?

I am a 36-year-old mother to beautiful five-year-old twin boys, a wife of twelve years to a wonderfully caring & supportive guy, and I am a survivor. My life over the past several years has dealt a series of life-changing events that transformed me into the much more fulfilled person that I am today: A span of miscarriages, advanced genetics & fertility intervention (you can see a photo of one of my boys lit up with lights in the dish...that's our photo!), a very difficult pregnancy, a frightening delivery resulting in the near-death of myself and my boys, a few months later a surgery to correct the extreme pain that kept me from being able to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. If that wasn’t enough, after finally getting my feet back on the ground, I enjoyed about a month of normalcy before I was dealt yet another blow. On March 23, 2005, I was diagnosed with breast cancer when my boys were only 13 months old. I quickly spiraled into a wave of panic and anxiety. I began thinking about my funeral and trying to figure out the best way to preserve my memory so my boys would remember me...they couldn't even say mommy yet.

The changing moment happened when I finally managed to drag myself out of the house. I drove to a local garden store to buy some flowers to plant in my yard (flowers make me happy). I pulled into the parking lot and next to me was parked an SUV with a pink ribbon on the back of it that said 'SURVIVOR'. At that moment it dawned on me...and I broke down. Not because I was sad or upset, but seeing right in front of me, that there was someone else surviving this...it gave me my first glimmer of hope. I, too, could be a survivor.

I went through a bilaterial mastectomy followed by chemotherapy, and then more surgeries for reconstruction. I felt tired and weak and sick, but I would be damned if I was going to let it get to me. I exercised every day and I continued to work. Even through a mysterious bout with neutropenia (zero white blood counts) that seemed to last for weeks and baffled my team at Johns Hopkins, I was not going to give in to this fear. I tried to stay as strong as physically and mentally possible...I had to survive for my family. A little yellow bracelet, given to me as a gift from a very special person, took on huge meaning in my life.

The next year and a half went by pretty smoothly. I got myself into shape again and actually ran my first (and probably only) marathon! However, on January 19, 2007, I was dealt yet another blow. I found a new lump which was quickly assessed and found to be a recurrence of breast cancer. I was tested and scanned and tested and scanned again and mentally dragged down into the gutter. I wondered if I would be able to get myself back up yet again. I turned to my support group (my "sistas") and my wonderful family and friends. After the shock of it all, a voice deep within told me, "screw this, you NEED to beat this." So, I went through intense radiation and then surgery to remove every iota of estrogen in my body, and here I am again back on my feet.

I consider myself to be a very lucky and fortunate woman. I don't feel sorry for myself, and I would never take any of this away. Through this experience I found the most amazing love and friendship in people. My dearest friends came to my rescue. They cooked, cleaned, babysat, made my appointments, sat with me, cried with me, waited for hours on end to support me at the hospital and to keep my husband sane, held my hand during procedure after procedure after procedure. We had so much support. I am forever indebted and grateful to each of them for taking such great care of me and my family.

Through this experience I have met the most amazing network of women... strong, determined women...other survivors, my warrior sistas as we call each other. We have laughed together, shared scars and war stories, cried together, and very sadly, said goodbye to each other. Without them, I am not sure I could have survived. I cannot put into words the strength I drew and continue to get from my survivor sistas.

I have learned to take a pause during this hurried life in which we live. Life is too short not to enjoy a cloud formation, feel the breeze, enjoy a good storm, or watch the leaves blow around in the fall. There is such simplistic beauty in life that is overshadowed by our hectic lifestyles.

I have also become a better person. I have learned to be more sensitive and I try not judge or be too harsh with others. You just never know what burdens people carry, and how those burdens might cause them to act in a certain way that might not always be agreeable. I know what the pain feels like to be told I can't have children, and I know what it feels like to face my mortality first hand. I know how it feels to have my 'womanhood' taken away from me...my hair and my breasts. It is a very humbling experience. But I would never trade it. My long, thick, curly hair no longer defines my physical appearance as it has my whole life. My chest is fake and scarred. But I am strong, more so than I ever thought was possible.

I used to have a pink survivor ribbon on my car that I displayed with pride. I wanted to give back what was given to me as a gift that one day, a gift of hope that changed my thinking and I believe helped save my life. However, in recent times I am more and more saddened by the overwhelming cause-marketing here in the U.S. The pink ribbon to me is now tainted by orporate greed as companies are using it to increase their profits and very little (if any) is being passed along to the brilliant scientists and laboratories that are trying so hard to actually find a cure. So, I am finding other ways to support the cause, to increase awareness, to be an advocate for survivors of all kinds, not just breast cancer, but so many other cancers and diseases that don't have the visibility that breast cancer has. So, Think Before You Pink, Livestrong, Go Red, support worthy causes. Most importantly, live life to the fullest and love unconditionally your family and friends.

Jennifer Tisch
Age 36 & Twice Breast Cancer Survivor