The Cancer Journey
MY CANCER JOURNEY
A Story of Resilience, Hope, and Healing
Since my initial diagnosis of stage 3 breast cancer in 2006, I've likened my journey through cancer survival to various experiences. Still, none has resonated with me as profoundly as The Wizard of Oz. Watching it as a little girl, I found personal metaphors within its story that still hold significant meaning. My battle began in 2006, and by 2011, I had fully recovered.
However, in 2010, I faced a daunting recurrence: stage 4 breast cancer. Facing stage 4 was a test of courage. Despite the UCLA oncologists' prognosis that I had only 3-12 months to live and that nothing more could be done, I was determined. Such a definitive declaration could either break you or fortify your determination to battle more fiercely for your existence.
If someone told me I would survive and live through it, I wouldn’t believe them because I was so scared. I moved forward anyway, with one step in front of the other, never knowing the outcome of any decision I made.
I still had a lot of fight left in me, so Instead of giving up, I chose to leave my country and go to CMN Hospital in San Luis, Rio Colorado, Sonara Mexico, for advanced alternative cancer treatment. When I found CMN Hospital, I felt hope. And my God-given intuition said this was where I needed to go.
I had to raise the money because insurance would not cover the alternative cancer treatments. It took five months. When my friends and I reached our goal, I dug my heels into the ground with excuses.
It was February, my birthday, and Valentine's was the 14th, and I told my friends I wanted to wait until after those holidays. My best friend snapped me out of it. She said if I didn’t go to CMN hospital, they would give the money they raised to someone else who is ready to fight for their life. I got the message loud and clear. Thank you, Heather Rayburn, for being a best friend who demonstrated tough love when I was too afraid of the unknown. You grabbed a hold of me often and reminded me of my worth.
I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. At the film's beginning, the tornado swoops up Dorothy’s house and spins it out of control. That’s how I felt when UCLA said I was out of time. When her house landed in munchkin land and she stepped out taking her first steps into th unknown. She wanted to be back home safe in her familiar life.
She was now in a land of spectacular color. She wasn’t in Kansas anymore! My life felt dark and dreary, like the muted sepia color that filled the screen for the first part of the movie.
Some of my worst fears came to life in my bedroom as I lay sick in my bed, especially at night. I was afraid of dying. My mind needed to calm down and faith had to be the only thing I clung to.
The moment I entered CMN Hospital, a burst of color and hope flooded back into my life; I was far from California now! My world was brighter than it had ever been. In the film, Dorothy headed out on a quest to return home. Similarly, I yearned to reclaim the health I once enjoyed; I felt frightened and adrift. Glinda, the Good witch, advised Dorothy to follow the yellow brick road to seek the Wizard of Oz's aid in the Emerald city to return home.
Alternative medicine represented the mysterious land of Oz—a new realm awaiting exploration and the journey toward my healing.
When the cowardly lion sings the song “Courage,” I think of my twin sister, who also battled breast cancer five years after I had my victory, and her words remain in my memory forever. She said I’m not as brave as you, sis! I don’t have the strength you do to fight this. Just like the cowardly lion had courage all along, so did she. it’s hard to see sometimes when you’re in it so thick with fear. People around you see it later on; when you get to the other side and look back, you see it too.
When I hear the song “If I Only Had a Brain” by the Scarecrow, I am reminded of everyone who thinks they have to do what their doctor says, those who don’t trust their instincts. I trusted mine, and it was never easy. I vacillated back and forth, over and over again, with my decision sometimes because I thought, “Who am I? I’m not a doctor.” I didn’t know I had the smarts to make the right decisions, even though all I had to do was follow my intuition. It turns out I was smart after all because here I am, completely healthy going on 14 years.
Hearing the Tin Man's song "If I Only Had a Heart" resonates deeply, reminding me of the self-compassion and love I needed to embrace on my journey. Initially, I was my own harshest critic, but over the years, I learned the importance of treating myself with gentleness. This shift required time, deliberate practice, and heightened self-awareness to recognize and alter how I treated myself, especially realizing I was kinder to others than myself. This realization became a turning point, particularly after my divorce in 2012, propelling me towards significant personal growth.
Now… how about Dorothy’s ruby red slippers. She had the solution the entire time to get home with three simple clicks of her heels. How many of us walk around with the answer right there for us but we complicate our life because of our own manifestation of fear.
Through this process, I gained invaluable insights and became a certified life coach supporting other women facing similar emotional challenges. I discovered a typical pattern among women: the tendency to direct harsh criticism towards themselves, the kind they would never dream of unleashing on a friend or child. This journey taught me the power of changing the narrative we tell ourselves.
Looking back, I have often wondered if cancer was my fault, and I will never know. I know that traumatic events happen in life, and we have to learn how to cope and maintain self-respect. Self-compassion was the most crucial lesson in my life.
My favorite song in the movie was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” where Dorothy shares her dreams and how more life and goodness were meant for her. Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly if birds fly over the rainbow. Why, then, oh, why can't I? What an inspirational song of hope!
I thought of others who had miracles happen for them, so why couldn’t I? Those ruby red slippers represent that she had the answer all along but didn't realize it until she went through the journey along the yellow brick road.
Dorothy had to face the Wicked Witch of the West and evil flying monkeys. I had to face a diagnosis of stage III cancer in 2006 and then a recurrence of stage 4 cancer; while, my ex husband physically assaulted me.
No matter what path we take for any cancer treatment, I would never know until I got to the end of my yellow brick road if it would save my life.
Dorothy’s nemesis, The Wicked Witch of the West was determined to thwart any chance of her getting home and even captured Dorothy, holding her prisoner in her castle. She threatened Dorothy's life and gave her only a short time to live.
My nemesis was “time.” I could relate to the sands of The Wicked Witches Hourglass in the movie. Time was running out. UCLA doctors told me I only had months to live. The witch emphasized that Dorothy only had until the hourglass emptied to the bottom. She warned Dorothy, "You see that! That's how much longer you've got to be alive!" I couldn’t escape the hourglass that appeared whenever I closed my eyes.
Dorothy's friends try to help her escape, but the Wicked Witch grabs a torch and lights the scarecrow on fire. Dorothy spots a bucket of water nearby and swiftly hurls it over him to extinguish the flames. When the water splashes onto the witch, she suddenly begins to melt. The defeated witch’s final words were, "Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness!" Dorothy conquered her fear, and the witch failed with her death sentence on Dorothy.
I narrowly avoided death by refusing to give up and seeking treatment at CMN Hospital in Mexico. It was a period filled with fear. In those months, I faced skeptics whose views filled me with anxiety. Some skeptics were genuinely concerned, driven by fear and a sense of care. They lacked belief in the healthier choices I pursued. They offered their opinions and advice, but ultimately, I was the one who would have to live with the consequences of my decisions—no one else.
Cancer didn't win; it couldn't claim my life—I triumphed and healed! Despite my full recovery, the lingering fear of its return haunted me, especially since The American Cancer Society deems stage 4 survivors incurable. Yet, I believe in the immense power of our minds. It was crucial to maintain faith in my 2011 healing journey.
When questioned about the duration of my remission, I avoid the notion that I'm merely in remission. Instead, I assert that I have been healed or cured, recognizing the profound impact of the words we choose to use.
Every day, I continue to pray and express gratitude. When people reach out, I offer prayers and try to inspire and lift their spirits. I've adopted numerous strategies to manage my fear and anxiety.
Embracing the significance of savoring each day, spreading more love, and shifting my focus from my mind to my heart has been transformative. Looking back, I'm thankful for the challenges I've encountered. They've offered a new perspective and have been instrumental in shaping me into the woman I am today.
Throughout this journey, I've deepened my empathy for others and gained insights into the workings of our hearts and minds. It only takes a small measure of faith—a few drops from our bucket—to dissolve the formidable witch of fears, paving the way for us to craft our own happy ending.
Having loved ones who support your journey on that yellow brick road is necessary. While sick, I wrote out compassionate and loving affirmations and taped them on the walls. I read inspiring books, primarily faith-based, which gave me hope. I prayed daily. I know this helped me heal emotionally. My life's purpose is to continue learning and teaching self-compassion.
Navigating the Crossroads of My Cancer Journey
Cancer presents a daunting yet profoundly enlightening path with its myriad of crossroads. This journey, unique to each who walks it, has been a crucible of transformation for me, offering lessons wrapped in challenges and moments of profound insight amidst trials. I write this post to share my story and extend a hand of empathy and hope to others navigating their cancer journeys.
Acceptance
Acceptance was my first, most challenging milestone. The diagnosis felt like a storm, uprooting normalcy and planting seeds of uncertainty. Yet, in this turmoil, I found an unexpected gift—acceptance. Accepting my diagnosis wasn't about surrender; it was about acknowledgment. It was a crucial step that shifted my perspective from one of fear to one of proactive engagement with my treatment and future.
The Power of Gratitude
Gratitude became a sanctuary, a refuge on my most challenging days. It might seem counterintuitive to feel grateful in the face of cancer, but gratitude illuminated the richness of my life, even in the smallest moments. The warmth of a cup of tea, the comfort of a loved one's presence, the serene beauty of a sunrise—these experiences took on new depth and significance. Gratitude didn't negate the hardship but brought balance, reminding me of life's dual nature—its sorrows and joys.
Finding Strength in Vulnerability
Vulnerability was an unexpected source of strength. Sharing my fears, hopes, and the raw truth of my experience brought healing and empowering connections. It taught me that vulnerability is not a weakness but a courageous openness that invites support, understanding, and genuine companionship on this journey.
The Role of Faith and Hope
Faith and hope have been my guiding stars, lighting the path through the darkest nights. I had faith in God in good times and through some of most frightening moments when things don’t turn out as you hoped. the expertise and compassion of my medical team, in the love and support of my family and friends, and in my own resilience. Hope became the vision of a very possible future of more time with lived ones. Cancer was a chapter in my life surrounded by potential defeat and where doubt crept in I knew I had to keep yurning towards hope becauseI just couldn’t let this be the last chapter ending the entire story of my life.
Empathy and the Shared Journey
Through this experience, I've become part of a dear community bound by shared challenges, vulnerability and triumphs. The empathy and understanding within this community have been a source of immense comfort and motivation. It's a reminder that no one walks this path alone and that together, we can face the uncertainties with courage, wisdom, heart and hope.
The Ongoing Journey
I am entirely healed from cancer, but the cancer journey is ongoing, marked by the reflection of all my victories and setbacks, moments of clarity, and periods of doubt. But each step forward was a testament to the human spirit's resilience. The crossroads of this journey have taught me about the depth of my strength, the power of hope, and the value of faith in every moment.
To those on their cancer journeys, please know that your feelings are valid, your fears are shared, and your hopes are supported. If you turn sway from hope you know what you will find and it is terrifying and dark. May you find strength in vulnerability, peace in gratitude, and a lit path always paved with faith and hope.
Remember, this road is not walked alone; every step, no matter how small, is a victory.
~Shannon Knight
Looking Ahead with Hope and Determination
Today, as I continue to walk this path, I do so with a heart full of gratitude, a spirit buoyed by faith, and a mind open to the lessons still to come. The road ahead may hold more crossroads, but the journey thus far has equipped me with the strength, wisdom, and courage to face them with hope.
To those of you facing your own battles, remember this: You are not alone. Your story is a beacon for others, just as their stories illuminate your path. With hope as our compass, we can navigate the most challenging journeys.
In sharing these reflections, my aim is to offer solace and solidarity. Our stories, woven together, create a tapestry rich with the strength of shared experiences and the beauty of communal resilience. May we all move forward with the grace of gratitude, the courage of conviction, and the unwavering belief that even in our darkest moments, there is light.
