I Sometimes Forget to Celebrate Survivorship

Mary Sansone is a two-time survivor of acute myeloid leukemia. Catch up on all of Mary's blogs here!

Five years have passed since my bone marrow transplant to combat a recurrence of acute myeloid leukemia (AML). This was a magnificent mile marker. I spent my five-year-old birthday (June 5, 2025) lounging and meditating on my pool floaty while soaking in the Florida sun. No commitments, no errands, no party. Just a luscious and relaxing day off.

I have since returned to work. In my role as a client advisor for fine jewelry and prestigious Swiss-made timepieces including Rolex and many others. I interact with a variety of interesting people with interesting hobbies. Many of my clients have exciting professions, beautiful families, and often — wealth.

My hobby as of late has been working. And recently, sulking. A shame - given the many blessings I have received.

As the newest member of our team of client advisors, I am routinely the last on the performance list. My colleagues have established long-term relationships; I am starting from scratch. As I write this, I am experiencing a rough week in terms of sales. My focus on gratitude for my survivorship abruptly pivoted too poor-me.

Much of what happens in the showroom is luck. I imagine that a divine power intervenes and blesses me when “the power” likes me. I imagine I am being punished by “the power” when I am disliked. I struggle with trying to identify my flaws so that I can correct these and be in good standing with The One who distributes blessings. I am not sure if that is how the world works. This is somewhat human, and somewhat moronic.

When I am home and reflect on my thoughts and moods, I re-conjure the elation for employment. I am alive. I have health insurance. I am clear of conscience. I can breathe.

Writing for Cure Magazine is insanely therapeutic. It brings my focus back to the miracles. Let’s take a look:

Things start out sketchy, but bear with me.

I relapsed on alcohol after nearly 25 years of sobriety due to a major depression. At the time, I wanted God to take me. My relapse made me sick very quickly. In a matter of seven months, I was in a life-or-death state of being. I looked hideous, I was falling down, I continually vomited and cried profusely. My job let me go; I was an “enigma.”

My brother Chris rescued me. I went to rehab and made new lifelong friends. I recovered and enjoyed life once again. I moved into a sober living home, which was gross. I went in for doctor checkups before I looked for a new job.

My oncologist at Moffitt Cancer Center informed me that my AML returned. One struggle after another. But I handled the shocking news better than I did the depression. I was quickly admitted to the hospital to initiate induction chemotherapy and wait for a donor to be identified so that I could undergo a bone marrow transplant.

My four siblings were not matches; however, NDMP found a perfect match with a 23-year-old girl from Israel. During the pandemic, they managed to get the donation to me four months after diagnosis. I was readmitted and underwent the difficult procedure. I remained spirited despite suffering from various side effects.

My hair never fully came back. I have sparse sprouts on my head five years after the procedure. I don a human hair wig. I’m grateful for the women (I assume) who donated their hair! I do not have any underarm hair and rarely need to shave my legs. I have some arthritis from all the chemo, stronger prescription lenses, and nail problems. None of these bother me.

My oncologists exclaim that I am doing wonderfully. “You are a poster child for bone marrow transplants.”

I love what I do for a living now, but too often I let everyday problems trample on my gratitude. By scripting these blogs, volunteering at Moffitt Cancer Center, and supporting friends with cancer, I’m able to reverse the line of thinking; I stomp on the worries and reach for the stars. I unscramble my crazy thoughts and put gratitude at the forefront of my emotions.

Struggles in life will continue. My struggles are miniscule when I think of the many who are mentally or physically ill, dreadfully poor, marginalized, or worse. The world is both an ugly and a beautiful place. I want to be on the side of beauty.

I am a firm believer in “The pursuit of happiness.” Being alive is a miracle. Experiencing joy and security are priceless rights and blessings. I’ll remind myself to live light, be buoyant, be kind, and give back. Thank you, God, for everything!

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