When Your Profession Is Your Calling and Redemption

It wasn’t that I never expected a breast cancer diagnosis, it was that I had never even considered a breast cancer diagnosis.

As a half-marathon running, vegan diet eating registered dietitian and personal trainer maintaining a healthy body weight and possessing a medical history void of anything remotely concerning – including no family history of breast cancer - I lived my personal and professional lives from the belief that taking the best care of myself was the best defense against horrific disease and chronic illness.

In effect, I felt bulletproof.

And yet, on Oct. 27, 2014, the results of a surgical biopsy proved otherwise; I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma, aka breast cancer.

Just ahead of noon, I’d headed home that day to take the expected call from my surgeon, leaving my nutrition therapy practice and private personal training business in the hands of my capable staff. I’d not filled them in on anything I was experiencing and wanted to take that call in private.

After I received the news? I headed straight back to my office.

My husband asked, “Do you want me to drive you?” “Nope. I’m fine, and I have clients until later this evening.”

Off I went to the space where my professional expertise and experience took over, where I knew what to expect, knew what I was doing and felt like I was in charge.

None of which applies to the cancer experience.

It may sound crazy, but I sat across from my clients coaching, educating and supporting them, all the while compartmentalizing the news I’d just received in a way that allowed me to be at the top of my game.

My thought? Act like all is well, and hopefully, that would be the outcome I would get.

While going through the rounds of additional testing, navigating treatment options, arranging for a plastic surgeon and being assigned an oncologist (what?!), I kept my head down and continued to work.

I think you can see by now, it was my respite.

A few weeks after my diagnosis, I welcomed clients to my studio for a long-planned celebration that in no way was I going to cancel, even though earlier that afternoon I’d undergone another (non-surgical) biopsy.

Wearing a long sweater that covertly camouflaged my tightly bandaged chest and requisite ice pack, I welcomed my guests at the appointed hour. Making certain I was the recipient of gentle hugs only (employing a stealthy body positioning trick), the evening went off without a hitch.

At that point I’d not informed any of my clients, and I’m not even sure my staff yet knew; my intention was to keep it that way until I was armed with more details so I could share my news backed up with specifics.

Fast forward to a week post-surgery when I returned to the office on a “light” schedule. Due to the temporary weight restriction in place, my husband toted my laptop and bulging briefcase. That first afternoon I took a short nap on my office floor. I don’t remember much else about that week, but what I do remember is how thrilled I was to be back.

Of course, the cancer experience wasn’t yet behind me; I was awaiting pathology results that would inform my treatment regimen, staying hopeful that the plastic surgeon’s skin graft would “take,” and working hard to keep my physical activity to an acceptable (excruciatingly low) level.

During all of this I never asked, “Why me?” I absolutely did ask “Why?” on repeat.

I understand that I’ll never know why, but what I eventually did know beyond a shadow of a doubt was that I had to use my experience to help other women.

I had no idea what that would look like or what it would involve, but the “pull” to blend my professional expertise with my personal experience was inescapable, and as it turns out, inevitable.

Helping breast cancer survivors end their confusion and anxiety about what to eat and what to avoid is the professional calling I had no idea I was preparing for all those years prior to my own diagnosis.

The opportunity to support women who’ve walked the same path has helped me heal, accept the reality of what I never imagined would be my experience, and granted me the privilege of connecting with women who embody the true spirit of strength and resilience.

Turns out, I was made for this. Who knew?

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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