One Of My Powerful Teacher’s Name Was Cancer

Photo by Christopher Campbell on Unsplash

Years ago, one of my first stories was titled "Cancer, a Positive Teacher." When I decided to write on Medium.com, I used this piece as an opening post to gauge the audience I hoped to attract. And it worked wonderfully.

A few months before I left Medium, a woman wrote a response to me after reading my piece, stating she was now going through cancer herself and appreciated that this story found her because she had forgotten that she had the choice to decide how and what kind of therapy would best benefit her as she moved forward in her healing.

I responded, "Whether you choose therapy or decline it, allow the final decision to be yours. This way, the courage and strength will come from within, and the outcome will be yours. The freedom to do this is priceless.

We may never know the impact our stories have on others, and that doesn't matter. What matters is that we dare to share them, which is the kind of bravery that heroes are made of.

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖💖

The word "cancer" has a frightening effect on people, and I was no different when the Doctor told me I had breast cancer. I was only 28, and it had grown quietly inside me for five years. It felt like I'd been taken from a relaxing soak in a hot tub and dunked in freezing water!

After leaving the Doctor's office and returning home, I gave myself the space to cry out the fear and distress. I took a few days of quiet reflection between running a home as my husband, at the time, worked and raising four boys and started writing about my deepest woes.

Then, I began to think clearly.

I knew I could react positively or negatively to this overwhelming and frightening news. I could become consumed by despair about the unfair hand dealt to me, which would only make life miserable for my children and certainly would not teach them how to handle their challenges as they moved forward in life.

Or, I could decide to learn all that I could about this disease and accept that I did indeed have cancer, but it was a disease of the body and not who I was on a soul level, and I would not allow it to dominate my every thought and action or define who I was.

I chose the latter approach because of the faith and trust I had within me. I would not allow cancer to "swallow me up," and once I came to terms with my situation, my life took on new meaning.

I decided I would never blame our beautiful Creator for this disease and find out as much as I could to help understand what was going on inside of me. The Doctor said that one cancer cell grew every 28 days, and the tumor was a little smaller than a lima bean. And because of the number of cancer patients in the clinic who required surgery right away, I could wait a month before I had surgery without worrying if anything was to happen to me medically.

Giving me that time was a gift because I did quite a bit of research on the kind of cancer my body had and spoke with women who had already gone through this experience. And most importantly, I was determined to take the time to look at all the good things and people in my life.

And I did.

I had been diagnosed a few weeks before Mother's Day and thought it would be a perfect time to write my mother a gratitude letter. I told her that no matter the outcome of this disease, I was forever grateful that she gave me life. I thanked her for how she loved me and taught me to feel the unwavering love that our Creator held me in during times of fear and joy.

I took the time to study a flower and watch insects feel their way around the earth. I would stop and watch birds fly and butterflies with such freedom. I focused on my older boys' laughter and held the little ones for hours while they slept.

When it came time for me to leave for the hospital, I was ready. I felt that life had been very good to me, and I was thankful. Whatever the outcome, I trusted God to take care of me. I did not pray for healing ; that was a given. Instead, I prayed for the strength to handle the outcome with dignity and peace.

Tears flooded my eyes when the Doctor told me three days after my modified radical mastectomy that there were no cancer cells found in the 13 lymph nodes they removed. It was time to go home, hug my children, heal, and move forward with a fresh, more positive outlook on my life.

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖💖

Sitting with the Doctor a few weeks later, he said that because cancer had been growing inside my body for five years, he strongly advised me to start with chemotherapy and radiation treatments right away.

I declined.

Back in the 80s, I knew women my age who were dying, even with both treatments, so after deep reflection and making sure I was not acting upon fear with my decision, I concluded that these treatments were not for me.

I told my Doctor this, and he responded, "I thought you would say that. So, we have another option for you."

Due to my age, the researchers wanted to follow me throughout my life. That was an excellent idea! But then he added that, at times, I would be given a placebo or a drug for testing purposes.

I had children to raise and did not want to take the time away from them to do this kind of testing. With respect, though, I did understand why this was important; I was very young compared to the many women who were diagnosed with this disease. However, this option did not resonate with me, so I thanked him calmly but declined the invitation.

He was a kind, gentle man, and when we said goodbye, he wished me well, but the sadness in his eyes was apparent, which meant to me that I was not going to be alive much longer.

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖💖

Ten years later, as I walked down a hospital hall, visiting a friend, we bumped into each other. He recognized me immediately, stopped, and looked stunned as he said my name. I smiled, said yes, it was me, and hugged him.

Then I exclaimed, "Doctor! you're looking at me like I'm a ghost!" He answered, "I think I have! You are well?" I smiled even more and said, "Yes, very well. Thank you!" We chatted a bit more, and as we parted, he gave me a genuine smile and a wink that touched my heart.

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖💖

It has been 30+ years, and I have learned from this essential teacher of mine that each year, day, and breath, I have another chance to love life. I've watched my children grow up and have children of their own. My husband and I have been married for over 20+ years and share 11 adult children, 16 grandchildren, and a great-grandchild on the way. I don't think it can get any grander than that!🥰

Cancer has taught me that one day, you are here, and then the next, you may not be. It is essential to realize and embrace that, no matter what happens in life, each experience has something to teach us for growth and wisdom, which often go hand in hand with pain and heartache. Most importantly, I want to help others find the positive, even in the most fearful times.

This mighty teacher has made it clear to me not to take anyone or any experience for granted and to shine my light so that others may find their path as I walk in and as the Presence of Love.🦋

Thought to Ponder:
What decisions have you made that carried the strength of your innate wisdom? I found a freedom that changed the dynamics of who I was and who I am.

And you?

Courtesy of Pixabay.com

© 2025 Terry Pottinger

Thank you for stopping by, reading, and listening to my work. If you think someone would benefit from this story, please share it with them. Thank you.