Party at a Time Like This?

Bachelorette PartyToday was our pre-​​wedding party, our bache­lor and bache­lo­rette party. Most of the guests who will be at the wed­ding on Sun­day came early so they could be at the party. We chose to hold it at a bar, and not sepa­rate par­ties like most peo­ple have. Now, more than ever, we nee­ded to be together, espe­cially since this would be our first “public appea­rance” since the diag­no­sis, and we nee­ded each other’s strength.

As Michel and I got ready for the party, and we were choo­sing our out­fits (jeans and a cheesy Bride and Groom t-​​shirt, of course), it daw­ned on me that wea­ring a bra tonight was not going to hap­pen. Lately, it hurts to wear a bra for lon­ger than an hour or so. I care­fully chose an undershirt to wear under the t-​​shirt and hoped I would be able to keep smi­ling no mat­ter what.

See, I’m not usually one to keep a sec­ret about myself very well. Kno­wing we were going to be part­ying tonight with peo­ple who would soon be shoc­ked by our news, it was inc­re­dibly dif­fi­cult to keep my mouth shut. I was fin­ding it very cha­llen­ging to just be quiet and for­get about “the breast can­cer” for tonight.

I wan­ted to tell ever­yone what we were going through. I wan­ted the sym­pathe­tic hugs. I wan­ted to let them know that every time someone gave me a vigo­rous bear hug, it hurt like hell. I felt emo­tions I’m not used to fee­ling, and I didn’t like it one bit.

How can we smile at a time like this? I felt like a com­plete fraud, laughing, smi­ling, nod­ding in all the right pla­ces. Kno­wing that within a few weeks, I will be smack in the middle of can­cer treat­ments, that all my friends and family will soon learn that throughout the wed­ding, we were smi­ling and laughing, but we were crying inside.

How can I pos­sibly keep this smile plas­te­red on my face when I want to scream at the unfair­ness of it all?

How? By remem­be­ring that smi­ling, laughing, joking, and lear­ning how to play no mat­ter what, is exactly how we will get through this in the coming months.

By the end of the night, I wasn’t faking it any­more. I felt alive, beau­ti­ful, sexy, and vibrant. I felt like all I had to do to get healthy was ask the Uni­verse for my health. I felt like I wasn’t “sick” any­more, that in fact, I was radiantly, glo­riously healthy.

I felt truly alive…

5 Comments so far »

  1. Ralph Zuranski said on:

    September 9, 2006 at 8:41 am

    Dear Syl­vie,
    You are my hero. It is the rare per­son who takes per­so­nal tra­gedy and trans­forms it into a glo­rious exam­ple of a vic­to­rious thought pro­cess that can over­come any obs­tacle. In the near future, I hope to do your heroes inter­view because your ans­wers to the heroes ques­tions will be an ins­pi­ra­tion to everyone.

    You, Michel and your family are in my dailly pra­yers.
    May God Bless you,
    Ralph

  2. Celeste said on:

    September 19, 2006 at 11:11 pm

    You are my mother.,and the one female in the world whom I have never lost my admi­ra­tion for.

    Although I live with you…spend time chat­ting it up…It is still unbe­lie­va­ble how only now after rea­ding this i rea­lize just how strong you are. I am also ama­zed that you were able to keep such a large sec­ret in. I know that it must have been hard to keep it from the ones you love, but it is so com­ple­tely unders­tan­da­ble. You are so lucky that you had/​have Michel to help you through this.

    I am really glad that I can read this..I am only now able to be com­ple­tely honest with myself and admit that yes, my mother does have cancer..now dear god woman!!!help her out!!

  3. Denise said on:

    November 5, 2007 at 11:32 am

    I have not had a chance to read your whole story but I will. I just wan­ted to say that it is great that you can actually write about your expe­rien­ces, etc. My dad pas­sed away from breast can­cer in 2003 and I am still having a hard time with it and everthing he went through. Good luck to you and your family. Stay well and safe. Keep your story going!

  4. shercyramos said on:

    August 24, 2009 at 10:03 am

    It’s para­do­xi­cal how fee­ling alive can be pre­sent even in the face of impen­ding death. You still manage to stay on your feet and find mea­ning in your con­di­tion. I am moved by your words that your family’s laugh­ter and your friends’ jokes are the things that keeps your spi­rits high. I agree with this!

  5. Jenny said on:

    January 26, 2010 at 7:47 am

    Hi there all, I am new to this but here goes.
    I had grade 3 breast Can­cer, had the test the day before Christ­mas and went away on holi­day thin­king I was a dead girl wal­king and this would be my last holi­day. That was 2 years ago now. I read your sto­ries thank you for sha­ring, it gives hope to all, thought I had it bad but you made me see we are not alone. I had grade 3 breast can­cer went through the Chemo badly collap­sing twice then the op and rad. The treat­ments nearly killed me and I am still in pain all the time two years down the line. But in all the thick of it I visi­ted a web site called http://​www​.health​wise​-glo​bal​.com read their sto­ries and bought a CD which hel­ped me every day that I lis­te­ned to it. From time to time I still take it out when I feel low and it helps. I done the walk for life and will be doing it again this year. My way of saying thank you for still being here
    Thanks you for sha­ring your story visit the web site see my story there
    Jenny

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