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Writer's pictureJulie Granger

9 years since "You have cancer"




Nine years ago, I heard words nobody ever wants to hear — You have cancer.


Each diagnosis anniversary, or diagnosiversary, I have had a lot to say about this as I reflect and celebrate.


This time is no different.


Until yesterday, I had totally forgotten about this photo/meme I posted on FB in 2015, taken the day before I was diagnosed.


Facebook memories brought it back to life, and it occurred to me of all the times I’ve celebrated this diagnosiversary — I have never looked at this photo.


If you zoom in, you can see a line across my nose.


That line is a bruise.


Why would I have that bruise?


Because my glasses had smashed into my nose.


Why?


Because earlier that morning, I had fallen directly onto my face. My glasses broke the fall and did not break my nose, thankfully.


Why did I fall onto my face?


Because I was so sick that I could not stand.


And up until that moment — I’d seen specialist after specialist, had a zillion tests, had an ER visit the night before — and nobody really knew WHY I was so sick.


They knew I had a grapefruit sized mass in my lung.


And inconclusive biopsies.


And constant unrelenting fevers.


And severe anemia.


And nearly 20 pounds of unintentional weight loss.


The best physicians in Atlanta were scratching their heads. Because of that, everyone continued to pass the buck and send me home.


My body and its infinite Divine wisdom wasn’t made it loud and clear that I literally could no longer stand and carry this burden, and I was finally admitted to the hospital


But almost 36 hours in the hospital, we were still without answers


Even though I showed every qualifying symptom (like … nearly breaking my face in an involuntary nose dive), they refused to give me a much needed blood transfusion


It was a terribly frustrating case of making decisions off of lab values and protocols, not off of what’s best for the human in front of you


To my medical team, I was a set of numbers


To me, this was life or death


At the 11th hour, a brilliant physician stumbled upon my case — even though she hadn’t been invited to the party in the first place


She saw me as way more than a number. And my life would never be the same.


It's been 9 years since that gorgeous curly haired lady in a white coat shimmied the hospital recliner up to my bedside, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and started drawing pictures.


She said "Hi, I hope you don't mind that even though you didn't expect to see me, I stole your chart from everyone else who is trying to figure out what's wrong with you. I'm sorry you haven't gotten answers and you've really been through it. But guess what? I know what's wrong AND what to do about it."


Her confidence and certainty in that moment is something I didn't even know I was looking for.


I didn't care what she said. She could have told me that I had been overtaken by aliens and the only way to fix it was to be flown to a distant galaxy.


<<In truth, I now realize as I type it that isn't TOO far from the actuality>>


I was instantly put at ease.


It helped that she was chicken scratching terribly drawn stick figures with a sharpie.


A+ for effort ... and I felt so connected to her because that's exactly what I always did for my own patients.


What was she drawing?


A tumor.


She called it a sarcoma.


She told me almost nobody on the planet had ever heard of it.


But she is a sarcoma specialist and she, in fact, had.


She told me there was a 50% chance the genetics of the sarcoma would match a newly patented targeted therapy that could shrink it.


It was a therapy that would target only the cells, not all my other cells like traditional sarcoma drugs did.


It sounded like we were going to a distant galaxy when she described the other things I needed to do.


But I was 100 percent on board that space ship.


It was her confidence and certainty.


I felt no fear.


In fact, I only felt relief. Someone FINALLY figured it out. And there was a plan with 50% odds of working.


I was game for those odds.


And true story -- she actually never once said "cancer" or "chemotherapy" or any typical "oncology" words.


In fact after she left my room at 7:30 PM that night (long after any other physician would do a hospital visit) -- I looked at my husband and said "wait, can you just google 'sarcoma' real fast? I think that's a cancer, but um, I'm not sure...because she sounded SO confident and self assured, it seems she couldn't POSSIBLY be talking about cancer!"


Turns out she was. She said it without saying it.


Basically, the photo/meme pictured in this post would actually make a great meme for "Tell me you have cancer without telling me you have cancer"


There were some REAL touch and go moments from that August 12 evening, and my life is FOREVER changed.


But it would not have been changed if she didn't have the gumption to look at her expert colleagues and say "you're missing it. I know what to do. Give me that chart."


Even though I had literally hit the rockiest of rock bottoms the day before -- on August 11 I had collapsed face first on my hardwood floors because I was THAT sick


I can now see how that rock bottom was the exact turning point I needed.


Not just for my health, but for my WHOLE life.


I could go on and on and on and on about the 1 million ways falling on my face and getting diagnosed with cancer -- while excruciatingly challenging at the time no doubt -- were one of the most immeasurable gifts of my life.


I love celebrating this day -- this Diagnosiversary -- every single year. It's one of the most miraculous parts of the story.


And more than anything -- I LOVE the part where I was so assured, so TRUSTING -- I just knew in my soul and heart that this was a soul-level person sent to bring the answers -- a portal of knowledge, smarts, and innovation made possible only by the Universe's gifts.


I had every reason not to trust her.


I had every reason to stick with treatments that had greater than 50% odds but would be WAY harder on me in the long run.


But I chose to let go, surrender, and trust. Even when all of the arrows said “Fight! Run! This makes no sense!”


I'm living proof that surrender and trust — even when it feels all the cards are stacked against you — go a long way.


I hope that when that soul-led person or that soul-led voice comes into your life and tells you with such confidence that surrender and trust are available and safe


AND you get that relief from hearing that from them -- that you, too, feel safe and supported enough do exactly that.


I send the biggest wave of appreciation and gratitude to everyone who has been in my corner since then (and even before then) -- too many to name here. You know who you are.


I'm also grateful to look back on myself and thank her for getting on that space ship, even when I had no idea where we were going, or if I'd even literally live to tell about it now.


Obviously we know how that turned out


Here's to the next 9 or 99 Diagnosiversaries 🎉

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