We had already completed a mammogram and ultrasound and were just finishing up the biopsy for my breast and lymph nodes. I knew from the solemness in the room that it wasn’t good news. My doctor said that they would have the results back in the next few days. And then I asked the question, “If it isn’t cancer, what would it be?” She just looked at me tenderly with an honest tone, saying, “I think you know how serious we think this is.” I had cancer. I knew it right then.

Receiving a cancer diagnosis is gutting. There is nothing that truly prepares you for it. I packed up my things alone because no one had been allowed in with me because of the Coronavirus. I changed out of the gown they had given me and went to leave. The nurse caught me in the hallway on my way out and as she said goodbye, she could tell I was fighting back tears. “I know I’m not supposed to do this because of Covid-19, but I would really like to give you a hug. Is that okay?” I cried with my nurse as she held me.

A stranger held my burdens in that moment. She saw how I was hurting and refused to let me carry it alone. And that same type of care is what I have felt from so many people since that crushing diagnosis: the refusal to let me carry this burden alone. I honestly don’t know what’s been more overwhelming, being diagnosed with breast cancer or being the beneficiary of so many people’s love and sacrifice since then. All I know is that we can do hard things better together, and I am so grateful for the army of people who are fighting this battle right alongside me❤️