THE INKWELL SOUL

Tag: #fight

  • The Malleable Heart: Finding Light in My Shadow

    My heart is not a simple battlefield. It is a place of perpetual, exhausting motion, an endless oscillation between hope and despair.

    I was taught to see these as opposites, but I’ve learned they are merely two faces of the same fragile truth. There is a terrifying wisdom I’ve begun to grasp: that hope, unchecked and untethered, can become a disguise for despair. It’s the mistake of waiting for the grand, sweeping miracle that leaves me devastated when it doesn’t arrive. It is the setting of a rigid expectation that only prepares me for a crushing fall.

    But here, in the crucible of this experience, I have discovered the secret: I must stay malleable. I refuse to be hardened by the blows. I let the despair wash over me, recognizing it as natural, and then, slowly, I allow myself to be reshaped by the currents. I am not a statue; I am a river stone, worn and smooth and strong by the struggle, forever changing, forever moving.

    The overall scenario of my life may indeed seem disparaging – a landscape shrouded in fog and fear. Yet I force myself to look closer. I hold my gaze steady, not on the vast, overwhelming mountain, but on the small, brilliant things scattered at its base:

    The pure sound of my children’s laughter.

    The unexpected warmth of a hand holding mine.

    The strength I mustered just to get out of bed this morning.

    The small, scientific victory on the doctor’s report.

    These are not trivialities; they are small, fierce pockets of hope. They are the necessary proof that life persists and that my own profound strength continues to radiate.

    This is my fight, and it is a sacred one. So I take this truth and hold it tight: I must hold tightly onto what I believe in. I cling to my inner knowing, my faith, and to the people who are my anchors. I will not wait for the perfect moment or the perfect feeling.

    I know what must be done. I do the small things. I take the breath. I make the next phone call. I attend the next appointment. This is the work of a warrior with a malleable heart: one who accepts the darkness, honors the despair, and then, with quiet, unyielding power, uses the smallest fragment of light – the memory of a kind word, the effectiveness of a medicine, the strength of the day before – to illuminate the path forward.

    That fragment is all the light I need right now. I am strong, I am human, and I am finding my way through the beautiful, terrible complexity of this journey.

  • A New Dawn: Finding Grace in the Recurrence

    The whisper of recurrence, though a cruel sound, has become a startling call to a deeper way of living. There is a peculiar clarity that comes when one stands face – to – face with a stark biological truth: an adversary within. This awareness, sharp and immediate, has not diminished life, but intensified it – coloring every moment with a profound, almost startling grace.

    This journey is not one I walk alone. It has illuminated the preciousness of my “army” – the loved ones who stand guard around my well-being. Their commitment is the truest form of love, manifesting in hours spent researching, in nourishing meals prepared with meticulous care, and in the sheer constancy of their presence. They are the earthly anchors who refuse to let me drift.

    The changes within my daily life are testaments to this fight, but they are also acts of self-reclamation. Eating choices have transformed from casual decisions into mindful commitments to healing. My mental fortitude is not a given; it is a muscle I work daily, building resilience through intentional positive thinking. The collective effort – the fusion of personal discipline and the inspiring research poured over by everyone in my circle – has created a shield of knowledge.

    I am carried on the wings of this support, a dual face of the tangible and the spiritual. The army of this earth provides the strength to face the daily treatment, the fears, and the shifts. The army from the heavens provides an ethereal peace and unwavering hope.

    Without this incredible outpouring – this collective well of strength, wisdom, and love, I know I would falter. Instead, I stand today, not merely fighting a “dis-ease”, but thriving through a renewed appreciation for life’s beautiful fragility. For this unparalleled, abundant support, my heart overflows with eternal gratitude. It is, in every sense, a blessing.

  • A New Chapter: Standing Strong on Shifting Ground

    A few weeks ago, I shared the anxiety of waiting. The routine blood work that was anything but routine. The CAT scan that showed unsettling spots. The liquid biopsy and the PET scan that followed felt like a countdown to a moment I desperately hoped wouldn’t arrive.

    Well, the wait is over. The results are in. And with a profound, deep sadness that I’m allowing myself to feel, I have to share that the unwelcomed guest has returned. The scans confirm that the Invasive Lobular Carcinoma has metastasized, and I now have bone cancer.

    It is a heavy blow. It’s a moment that steels your breath and makes the world pause. After all the fighting – the mastectomy, the chemo, the radiation – I find myself standing at the beginning of yet another battle. The scans show there are many compromised areas, and the road ahead will be complex.

    But here is where the story shifts.

    I have faced this beast before, and I will face it again. And this time, I am armed with five extra years of strength, experience, and an even deeper well of gratitude.

    My heart is absolutely hopeful for the treatment plan ahead. I truly believe that gratitude and a positive attitude are key to navigating the complexities of this disease. My focus is not on the darkness of the diagnosis, but on the bright possibility of the future. I believe with every fiber of my being that I have decades of new adventures ahead of me.

    How do I find this courage? I look around.

    My support group – my amazing friends and family – are my bedrock. My children are my living, breathing reason to fight. My beau offers a new love and future to grow into. And my faith is the unwavering, solid ground beneath my feet. Without this incredible circle of love, I know I would not have the strength and courage to be this brave and this hopeful right now.

    This is a new chapter in my life. It is not the one I would have written, but I will read it, live it, and approach it with fierce determination. I am ready to fight again. I am ready to live again.

    Thank you for holding hope with me.

  • In the Face of Fear

    Today marks five years since I started treatment for stage 3 Invasive Lobular Carcinoma ( breast cancer). It was a life-altering experience, one that forced me to face my own mortality before I was even 50. I chose to fight with everything I had – a double mastectomy, dose-dense chemotherapy, and weeks of radiation. I won that battle, and for five years, I have been blessed with the gift of health.

    But my cancer is metastatic. It has a reputation for returning, and in these past five years, I have lived with the ghost of that possibility. You live your life, you build, you grow, but a part of you is always looking back, hoping it never comes again.

    A week ago, I had some routine blood work done, and the results brought a moment of pause. A subsequent CAT scan revealed some spots on my spine. Now I’m waiting for a liquid biopsy and a PET scan to get a clearer picture. It’s a moment of truth, and a part of me has just gone numb. You put on a brave face, but you freeze. The quiet hope you’ve been holding onto for years is suddenly tested.

    I am trying so hard not to let fear take over. There is still a chance that it’s nothing, and I’m holding onto that hope with both hands. I’m focusing on gratitude. I am grateful for my life, for the people in it, and for every experience I have been blessed with. I have children to live for, grandchildren to hope for, and a new love to cherish. I am choosing to keep the dark thoughts at bay. I am begging for healing. There is so much life left to live, and I am not done fighting for it!