A new mindset
I made a conscious decision not to fight cancer. Instead, I’d welcome it as a wise teacher who can grow me in ways I hadn’t imagined. This mindset carried me through two years of rigorous treatment: aggressive chemo, a double mastectomy, radiation, reconstruction, and years of hormone therapy.
When I was pronounced with “no evidence of disease” (NED), I was overjoyed. But my experience taught me that true freedom from cancer is a state of mind.
The lessons I learned inspired me to make huge changes in my life. I left an unhealthy marriage, moved to Colorado, and published my book, My Guru Cancer, which was inspired by my blog. I started dating again — an unusual experience with weird new body parts — and soon fell deeply in love with a Boulder boy named Tim.
When cancer came back
Just a year later, and two weeks after moving into our first home, chronic low back pain led me to advocate hard for scans.
On May 27, 2021, I was home alone in our new, freshly furnished living room when the phone rang. More than five years had passed since my initial diagnosis.
I was surprised to see my doctor’s number on my cell phone’s screen. “That’s strange,” I thought, “Why is he calling already? My MRI was only 2 hours ago.”
I answered the call, and his first words took my breath away: “Bethany, are you sitting down?”
I stumbled backwards, then lowered my body onto our brown sofa. Nothing could have prepared me for what came next. He said, “There are lesions all over your spine; it looks like the cancer is back. You need to call your oncologist right away.”
My finger pressed “end” on the phone call, as the rest of me remained frozen in complete shock. What. Just. Happened. Then panic set in as I frantically paced back and forth in the living room, trying to make sense of his words. “The cancer is back? Does that mean it’s terminal? Am I dying?”
I immediately called Tim, who was at work. I told him the devastating news. “I’m on my way, baby, it’s going to be okay.”
I felt anything but “okay.” I was completely heartbroken, terrified, furious, and betrayed. “What more do you want from me, life? I did all of the things and even dedicated my career to supporting others. Is this really how my story ends?”
Thankfully, my oncologist made time in her schedule to meet with me during her lunch break the very next day. A PET scan was ordered which later confirmed the cancer had spread throughout my bones, liver, and into some lymph nodes in my stomach.
Stage IV. Incurable. Metastatic breast cancer.
