Break the Rules

What Cancer Taught Me About Living

For many years I carried this story locked inside me. This is me finally opening the door.

In 2005 I was 36 years old and was living the dream until I was diagnosed with cancer and yet, in the middle of that fear and uncertainty, I chose to reject the standard treatment plan—not out of despair, but from a deep belief in my own internal guidance and feelings. I thought about my quality of life and how it felt to move forward on a path I wasn’t comfortable with. It almost felt like a survival instinct. I was deeply afraid, yet I refused to let that fear be the one making the choice.

Being emotionally locked up doesn’t mean you don’t feel it — it means the feelings don’t get to drive.

Against enormous pressure from family, friends, doctors, coworkers, and society’s expectation that “fighting” their way was the right way. I stood by my decision. I made peace with judgment from others, including my husband who felt I was choosing for him to raise our daughter alone. Fun times eh? I let him and all the “people” feel what they felt, and chose to live and possibly die, on my own terms.

The biopsy and evaluations revealed non Hodgkins Lymphoma Stage 3C.

After getting several opinions from different doctors, they all told me the only thing they had to offer was chemotherapy and radiation — it was the standard of care. That’s what our culture really holds up as “fighting” cancer: you do the aggressive treatment, you gear up for battle, you do everything they recommend in exchange for the possiblity of extending your life, no matter the cost.

It was time , I decided to buy my first computer and do some research, because somewhere inside I wondered if there were other ways to respond besides just going to war with my body. There were holistic hospital options, but they were in another state, and I didn’t have the financial means to do anything like that. I had a mortgage, multiple cars, boat payments — I was living what they call the American dream, and all of that debt and responsibility loudly sat in the background of every medical decision.

So I asked the question, how long , and the doctors told me that if I didnt do chemo and the cancer moved slowly, I might have about six years. If it moved fast, maybe two or three years. In our society, choosing “nothing” is often seen as giving up, as if not doing chemotherapy and radiation means you don’t want to live or you’re being selfish. I firmly exclaimed I was not going to do chemotherapy, they knew I meant it, and it did not go over very well. They thought I was being selfish and that I wasn’t going to fight to live, because for them, like for so many people, fighting meant doing all the treatment and chasing more time, even if the quality of that time might be poor. I was more interested in the quality of my life, and I hoped to see my daughter graduate. My inner guidance preferred my choice , the one that truly aligned with my values and feelings. This decision , this feeling , left me more at peace and with a better sense of wellbeing, and that deeply mattered to me the most.

It was a very difficult time in my life – a tremendous amount of pressure from my family, my friends, everyone. Society tends to measure love and responsibility by how hard you “fight,” so when you don’t follow that script, people get scared and angry. Friends and relatives started coming from everywhere to see me, some I hadn’t seen in a long time, because they thought I was going to die. I could see the look on everyone’s face when they saw me, like they weren’t sure if this was the last time. I noticed sympathy; I saw a lot of things. Underneath it all, I could also feel that unspoken belief that choosing not to treat meant I was choosing not to live, that I was somehow letting everyone down by not doing what was “normal”. It just didn’t feel right to do the treatment, so I didn’t, regardless of what anyone said or how they felt. I let them judge and let them feel what they wanted to feel. It’s my life and my decision, and I chose to honor what mattered to me rather than just following what other people & society expects.

So my research that I did on the computer basically told me that chemotherapy stops all of your cells from dividing in an attempt to stop the cancer cells from multiplying .In my mind they pretty much bring you as close to death as they can without killing you (hopefully)

I learned that sugar feeds cancer and stress. I learned that your body has these things called killer T cells that are supposed to naturally kill your cancer cells when they mutate and normally they do – unless your immune system is compromised. The compromise happens from working too much , being stressed out,poor diet and not enough sleep among other things . My research indicated that everybody gets cancer two or three times within their life but your body fights it off. I also learned about all the toxic things that are in our food.

Three months passed and my father stopped by the house. He brought me business card from The Robert Boisenault Institute about an hour from my house, it was a non profit cancer center/agency that treated cancer patients and he asked me to go there and talk to them.He had a friend that went there and they liked the doctors. So I promised my dad that I would go.

Of all the doctors that I had been to ,this doctor, Dr Bennitt, actually put my scans up on the wall and pointed to the tumors and said you have them here, here ,there and right here . They were in multiple locations some above the thorax and that’s why it was considered stage three. I explained to him I would not do chemotherapy and I would consider radiation because my research indicated that it does kill cancer . Its a targeted treatment. He had a suggested dose, I think it was 50 units ,I don’t remember what the technical name was but for a lenght of 12 weeks. I asked if I could try half of that at six weeks and then we could do a scan and see what it look like . WE agreed on that with one exception. I had previously refused to do a bone marrow biopsy because they’re horrible and I didn’t really see the need for it. I wasn’t allowed to have any painkillers during the procedure and they’re very painful but he explained to me that the cancer could be coming from my bone marrow and it would change my diagnosis & treatment plan so I had to go do it . So I agreed. He set me up with the hemotologist dr accross the street , Dr Fonseca, The procedure was all I expected.

The bone marrow biopsy came back negative which was good news. The treatment plan was intense, they made a mold of my body and I got my mandatory medical tatoos . I finished my six weeks of radiation. Everyday I was sick and for quite some time after and I do have some long term side affects that are managable. I did do some natural things as well as this treatment but I do believe that if I had done the “standard of care” expected of me things would be different. Twenty years later, I’m still here.

Fifteen years later after my diagnoses – My husband walked a very different road with his cancer — he went through chemotherapy, radiation, and immunotherapy, and back for more chemo – he fought hard for a long time. We both suffered more than I can put into words.

My husband fought a long and grueling battle with lung cancer. He did everything the doctors asked — chemotherapy, radiation, immunotherapy and then back for more chemotherapy and radation. We lost him on 03/23/22. There is a quiet, bittersweet irony I carry in my heart: he followed every rule, did everything right by society’s standards, and is gone. I stepped off the path they laid out for me, and somehow I am still here, telling this story.That’s not just irony — it’s the kind of real-life twist that makes you stop and think. Cancer has a way of unlocking everything you’ve kept quietly stored away — your fears, your truth, your sense of self. Sometimes a diagnosis is less about dying and more about finally deciding how you want to live.

The deeper point is dont let anyone or anything rob you of your own voice. The pressure to conform to is real and heavy. This story challenges that quietly but powerfully — it says your life its your call. A challenge to the idea that society gets to define what bravery looks like- even when it’s your life on the line.

Please note: This post reflects my personal experience and perspective only. Nothing written here is intended as medical advice. I am not a medical professional, and the decisions I made were my own, based on my unique circumstances. Always consult a qualified healthcare provider before making any medical decision

healing waters