It’s Breast Cancer Awareness month. I don’t think I’ve blogged about it in years. I typically try, unsuccessfully, to ignore it. The superficiality of some of the campaigns bothers me. But if I am honest, I also don’t share the intensity of the anger some people still feel about it. This is my 6th October since my breast cancer diagnosis in 2012. There has been a dramatic decrease in pink ribbons and associated nonsense since that time. There have been high profile works of film, journalism, and even coverage on late night comedy shows that have revealed the money farm that developed to exploit and sexual breast cancer for profit. Yes, it is still a problem but progress is progress. Progress is to be celebrated. So I celebrate the pink reduction.

Between the “think positive” crowd to the “everything about cancer sucks” crowd, I feel increasingly on my own. Although I tend to have more in common with the “everything about cancer sucks” crowd, I do worry about my not-very-tightly-held secret. I’m going out on a limb here and admitting what my blogging buddies know already: Not EVERYTHING about having breast cancer sucked. There were aspects of my experience that exposed me to what is best about humanity. I was lucky enough to be very well cared for by my healthcare team, by my family, and by my friends. I learned some things about myself in the process of illness that have become what I hope to be, lifelong lessons and happier ways of being.

I was at cardiac rehab yesterday and one of the exercise physiologists commented, “You have such a positive attitude. Have you always been this way or is this new?” I told her that I was lucky in that I am a naturally upbeat and resilient person but also that I have done much to nurture these qualities since I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2012. I also recently read my cardiologist report from the Mayo Clinic. In it, I am described as “a very pleasant psychologist.”

I don’t have to have a positive attitude and I don’t have to be “very pleasant”. But these qualities are helpful to me as I live my life, day by day. They also help me face some hard possibilities, most notably, the fact that I may not live as long as I thought I would. I had breast cancer at 46 and two heart attacks at age 51. I had few or no risk factors for either condition. Breast cancer can recur and I’m really not sure what the risk of recurrence or of developing metastatic cancer is. (I know there is the 20-30% estimate but I find no description of how it was arrived at in the original source materials, which concerns me.) There is a chance that I will have another SCAD event, too. However, there’s very little research on SCAD-related heart attacks, which makes it hard to know. The best estimate at this point is 20% recurrence over 10 years, but that is on a sample of only about 150 women. Further, since the cause/s of SCAD are not understood, there are no markers that can be measured to estimate my risk.

However, unlike breast cancer, stress is modifiable risk factor for cardiac diseases, including SCAD. Consequently, I continue to work on that through meditation, exercise, and through working a reduced work load. Cardiac rehab is going well. I just did my 60 day review. I am stronger and reassured that I am pushing my progress at the right rate. I have also made friends and being cared for by a group of excellent nurses and exercise physiologist. Even if these actions don’t extend my life, they make my day to day life much more peaceful, joyful, and balanced.

Awareness is synonymous with mindfulness. It is the state of being aware of reality, as it is. The use of the term “awareness” for October is ironic in the context of breast cancer because it is used for some dishonest purposes. Not every thing about my breast cancer is bad. Not every thing about my heart disease is bad. They are parts of my life, which include joy, pain, peace, anxiety, and all of the other experiences and feelings of my reality.

Here is a phrase I learned from Sharda Rogell, my dharma teacher at Spirit Rock Retreat Center. It is a phrase about equanimity:

“May my heart be big enough to hold the joys and sorrows without being overwhelmed.”

I’m out on a limb. I think in this moment, it will hold me.

Peace, friends.