NOT BROKEN : The Unfiltered Summary
I am NOT BROKEN!
This is a summary of the book, NOT BROKEN The Unfiltered Daily Truth in Fighting Cancer. It touches on my journey. By reading this, I do hope you find whatever you need to make your journey easier to bear.
My cancer journey didn’t start with a dramatic collapse. Long before the word “cancer” was ever spoken, I had a minor stroke in March 2021. Soon after, there was persistent, crushing fatigue that truly signaled something was really wrong. I was treated for iron deficiency anemia with weekly iron infusions by IV that did little to alleviate the exhaustion. The fatigue became so isolating that I was missing out on life, from the activities that brought me the most joy, like attending the grandchildren’s competitive softball and football games, simply because I was too tired to move.
On September 20, 2022, a colonoscopy delivered the worst news possible. The diagnosis was Stage 4 colon cancer that had already metastasized to my lung. The medical team and my research said that I had a 14% chance of surviving five years. This moment fractured reality into a double life.
What I did Say: On the outside, I maintained a CaringBridge journal, posting brave, sanitized updates for my friends and family so I wouldn’t overwhelm them. On the inside, I was living in absolute terror, confronting my own mortality, and feeling incredibly alone.
What I Didn’t Say: Behind closed doors was a paralyzing dread, the terrifying realization of mortality, and the profound isolation of fighting a lethal disease. I told no one.
I was now a cancer patient.
Medical intervention moved at breakneck speed, starting with the surgery to implant a chemo chest port—a constant physical reminder of the disease.
The chemotherapy regimen was an exercise in endurance. Infusion days meant sitting in cold, depressing rooms with other severely ill patients for six to seven hours, three times per week. I went home with a chemo pump strapped into a fanny pack that ran 24/7, for 3 days each week, making sleep impossible because I was terrified of pulling the lines out.
The side effects were relentless. I had severe brain fog, jaw pain, and neuropathy that made my feet feel like they were tightly wrapped in cellophane. There was an agonizing sensitivity to cold temperatures. My hair thinned out so badly I had to buy a wig, guarding that secret fiercely so people wouldn’t look at me with pity.
The physical destruction of cancer matched the financial ruin it caused. I had to swallow my pride and accept GoFundMe donations just to survive, and still, it wasn’t enough. It felt humiliating to be the one needing charity when I had always been the one taking care of others.
I worked my remote, part-time job through the pain and exhaustion because I desperately needed the money, and a sense of normalcy. At the same time, I kept my diagnosis a secret from my employer. I was terrified they would fire me if they knew I was sick. There was a constant, looming fear that disclosing the illness would lead to immediate termination, a fear rooted in my past termination following the 2021 stroke.
Life didn’t stop either—It took eight months to recover from a broken foot (Jones fracture) simply because the chemo had completely wrecked my immune system.
In April 2023, a massive surgery successfully removed the colon tumor, my appendix, and 37 lymph nodes. Finding cancer in four of those nodes meant going right back to chemo.
Hope surged briefly when the lung cancer seemingly vanished after targeted radiation. I thought I was NED for just a few months, only to be shattered in August 2024 when a PET scan revealed the lung tumor had returned twice its original size.
This devastating recurrence led to a lower left lobe lobectomy in September 2024, removing half of the left lung. The physical pain of recovery was excruciating, forcing me to sleep in my living room recliner for weeks because lying in bed was unbearable. The emotional blow landed simultaneously. To get the time off for the lung surgery, I finally had to tell my employer the truth. Shortly after, my worst fear came true: they eliminated my position, validating every prior fear about workplace discrimination.
The collateral damage of fighting to stay alive meant losing time and moments I can never get back.
o I was too sick and finically unable to travel to Florida to say goodbye to my brother Jimmy before he passed away in hospice. I missed the chance to say a final goodbye.
o There was deep grief over the loss of my beloved 13-year-old dog, Browser. He, too, was very sick after his stroke and I had to put him down, while still grieving my brother.
o I carried the heavy guilt of watching my son and my sister-in-law drive for hours back and forth, sacrificing their time just to take care of me.
But I refused to stop living. Days before my lung surgery I dragged myself to Arizona to watch my granddaughter pitch her first ever college softball game (against ASU). I was exhausted and in pain, but for those few hours, I wasn’t a cancer patient. I was just a proud grandma, and it was worth every second.
Eventually, the scans started coming back as “NED” (No Evidence of Disease). People hear “remission” and think you’re cured and ready to celebrate. They don’t understand that NED is not the finish line. Remission is just an agonizing and ongoing state of limbo.
o It means living with crippling “scanxiety” every time I have to get back in a CT or PET scan machine or have a blood test. I’m in constant fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
o It means dealing with permanent physical changes, shortness of breath, lingering brain fog, neuropathy and fatigue.
o It means watching some friends fade away because they don’t know what to say to someone who isn’t actively dying but isn’t entirely healthy either.
Despite being cut, poisoned, irradiated, and financially drained, the ultimate truth of this journey is resilience. The fear of it coming back is always there. But I am still standing. The narrative shifts from fighting the immediate threat of death to learning how to live in the uncertain expanse of the “after”. Damaged and exhausted, yet my spirit remains undefeated. I am a true warrior, and I am absolutely NOT BROKEN.
Available at leading online bookstores. Check out this link for a list of some of those stores. https://www.notbrokenbook.com/p/store