“Excuse me, Miss!”
I gaze toward the voice bringing me to a stop as I enter the hospital.
“Do you have a visitors pass?”
This is not the first time I’ve been asked this question.
“I am a patient,” I say.
Two raised eyebrows emitting a look of shock respond, “You are the patient?”
and a blank stare of disbelief follows when I confirm, “Yes.”
Thankfully, I currentlyfeelhealthy, too.
But I havemetastatic breast cancer.
Hollywood’s depiction of someone with cancer bald, frail, thin has become the widely-accepted social standard.
In reality, there is also a large population that lives with cancer as an invisible illness.
“People will say, ‘How do you have cancer and look like that?
‘,” saysKelly Crump, aSports Illustratedswimsuit model who frequently posts about living with metastatic breast cancer.
And that means there needs to be a lot more awareness."
Our modern brains arguably have a harder time computing the idea of living with an incurable disease.
There are an estimated 168,000 women living with metastatic breast cancer, according to theBreast Cancer Research Foundation.
But beyond the common thread of our diagnosis, we all have our own unique stories and treatment plans.
The narrative must evolve…and it’s starting to.
Significant strides are being made to change the prognosis of stage four breast cancer.
“People still don’t get it,” saysAmanda Quick, a breast cancer thriver.
“We’ll be on treatment for the rest of our life.
Metastatic disease is ever-changing; being in remission is not yet a possibility.
Even so, I am living life, making my dreams come true.
I don’t define myself by my diagnosis.
You don’t look sick.”
It is like clockwork.
Everyone who gets diagnosed with cancer has some form of suffering."
Until there is a cure for breast cancer, this is a forever thing.
Metastatic disease is unpredictable.
It creates a life of the unknown even when its imperceptible.
“I haven’t had a mastectomy.
I haven’t gone through chemo yet,” says Quick.
I’ve learned to not take a lot personally.
The pendulum is swinging toward the highs.
“It’s not like you are going to die.
You are fine,” my friend told me not too long ago.
“Someone who’s closer to you is in a more vulnerable position of getting hurt and feeling loss.
I’ve learned to not take a lot personally.
The truth is, there isn’t a perfect thing to say.
Words are complicated and, at the same time, powerful.
Words matter a lot.
It’s hard stuff.
or ask questions to better understand my experience.
Shifting the conversation inward gives someone the opportunity to share what lies beneath.
A genuine, “How are you?”
can go a long way.
Read more stories about metastatic breast cancer.
Now watch a video about a metastatic breast cancer patient’s journey.
