There’s Always a First

 

There’s Always a First

First date. 

First love.

First job.

First promotion.

First baby.

First day of school.

First new car.

First day in the new home.

Firsts. We can probably make a list of all the beautiful firsts in our lives longer than our arms. 

But, not all firsts are exhilarating. Some firsts are scary and dreadful, like hearing the words you have cancer for the first time. Those words will bring you to your knees, and the feeling is crippling. I know.

I remember that moment when I heard for the first time that I had breast cancer. It was 5:15, my feet were soaking in warm water at the nail salon, and we were leaving for Las Vegas the next morning. 

No doctor ever calls after 5 pm. I was safe, or so I thought. It had been a week since I had the biopsy. No news was good news, right? 

Not this time. Not for me. My phone rang, and Dr. Diehl was on the other end. “So, the results didn’t go our way.” Those words changed my life forever. “Your result returned positive for a type of cancer called Paget’s Disease. I’m truly sorry.”

The tears welled in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks. I cleared my throat, and with an unsteady voice, I responded, “Umm, okay. Can I please call you back; I’m in a store.” I tried to make the tears stop, but I couldn’t. My biggest nightmare just came true. I had breast cancer. The manicurist, Mary, looked up at me and asked if I was okay, and I shook my head no and quietly asked her to finish painting my nails. 

How was I going to tell my husband? Oh my God! I had to tell my kids! My heart was in my throat; my palms were sweating, my mind was racing, and the tears became a steady stream down my face. With my hands shaking, I texted my husband, “I have cancer. Pick me up.” That’s what my fingers typed. It was as if they had a mind of their own. 

As I sat waiting for Anthony to arrive, all I could think was, how does this happen to me? Why me? What about my kids? What about Anthony? Breast cancer doesn’t run in my family. Why? My heart was heavy, and I was terrified. 

Anthony pulled up, and I sank into the front seat. He hugged me, and I sobbed. We drove a few blocks and pulled over on a side street. Since my son was home, we thought it would be best to talk with the doctor before getting there. 

We called the doctor together. Dr. Diehl was very calm and compassionate. He explained that the kind of breast cancer I had appears as a rash. He went on to tell me I most likely would not need chemo—the first bit of good news. I would require surgery and possibly radiation. Then after treatment, I would be fine. Anthony and I exhaled a little bit, asked some questions, listened carefully, and made sure I understood the steps I needed to take in the upcoming weeks. I knew I had to hold onto the positives and not let myself down a dark rabbit hole.

We made our way home and packed our suitcases. I avoided chit chat with my kids. At the end of the night, I asked my boys to come downstairs. They were excited to leave the next morning, and now I had to rain on their parade. 

“I have something to tell you.” My voice was shaking, and my husband nodded as a sign of reassurance, “I have breast cancer,” I continued, “but the doctor says I am going to be okay.” I fought back the tears. They were stunned and speechless. Seeing the look on their faces made my heart sink. I felt helpless. I’ll never forget that moment. 

That night I cried; I didn’t sleep much, and the alarm went off after what felt like a minute. We gathered our things and made our way to the airport. 

The plane ride was long. I closed my eyes, meditated, prayed, and centered myself. I knew what I had to do mentally; it was simple but not easy. 

I have been a Healing Arts Practitioner. Since 2010 I have been teaching and helping people control, manage, and eliminate anxiety, overcome obstacles, and retrain the brain to think in positive, more productive ways, helping them fulfill their goals. I have battled anxiety for most of my adult life, but this was the most stressful experience I ever had to face. I now needed to practice what I had been preaching for all these years. 

I was sick, and I had cancer. I was scared. 

Our first day in Vegas was filled with phone calls and scheduling tests. I was lucky enough to schedule the MRI and diagnostic mammogram on the same day. Now that the tests were on the calendar, I had a choice. I was with my family on vacation, so I had the choice to live in the moment or be anxious, angry, or sad. They gave me the space I needed when the overwhelm consumed me. I had good moments and bad moments. I laughed, and I cried. Most importantly, I allowed myself to ‘feel the feels.’ This was going to be a journey, just the beginning. 

We enjoyed our time in Vegas and then came home to reality. 

Test day arrived. Anthony drove me to the hospital. The mammo was quick and easy—the thought of having the MRI made me so anxious. Knowing I would be panicked, the doctor prescribed some Xanax. I usually dislike taking medication, but I knew I needed some help. Everyone at the hospital was comforting and patient. The tests were complete; I exhaled and chose to place this on the back burner while I waited for the results. I needed to live in the moment. This was in God’s hands. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. 

Over the next several days, so many people offered their advice. I knew they were coming from a place of love, but I needed to figure this out on my own. Everyone said, and some demanded that I go for a second opinion. It wasn’t until I spoke with a good friend, a cancer survivor, that I entertained making an appointment with a different doctor. Diane forwarded me the names of a few breast surgeons, and I did my research. 

I chose a doctor at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New Jersey. Another first! We met with Dr. Capko, and she had the same plan as my original doctor. What a relief! Now it was decision time. After much contemplation, I chose to stay with Dr. Capko. The feeling I had when I went to Sloan felt right. 

The process and timeline were straightforward. I would have a partial mastectomy, where the doctor would remove my nipple, areola, and some of the surrounding tissue, then after a few weeks of healing, I would have four weeks of radiation. We scheduled the surgery for August 24th. 

As this journey unfolded, I knew I had to remain positive. For years I have taught students and clients that every day there is a choice. We can live in fear, or we can live in love and peace. You have the power to choose. Choosing to feel peace does not mean you pretend not to feel emotions like anger or fear. Acknowledging every feeling and emotion that arises in any situation is essential. I allowed myself to cry. I allowed myself to be alone. I allowed myself to feel the fear. I also allowed myself to feel joy and gratitude. 

Gratitude. Yes. Gratitude. 

Gratitude was a staple for me on this journey. It is an essential tool in my spiritual toolbox—one of many, but the one that is easily accessible. Gratitude is the first tool I use in any situation, and it helps to ground me so I can think clearly and move through hardships easily. 

I experienced so many firsts as I navigated through this storm. One of the hardest was telling my parents, who are 89 and 94, that I had cancer. They each had skin cancer removed; thankfully, that is all they ever had to endure. I am the youngest of 4, and none of my siblings have ever faced this battle; this news rocked them to the core. 

August 24th was the big day. It was surgery day! I was able to remain calm, breathe deeply, keep grounded, and feel grateful for as many things as possible. Everyone at the hospital made me feel relaxed and safe. I smiled, and they reciprocated. We made some small talk, and I met with the team of doctors. I was confident that I was in the best place. The surgery went smoothly, and I was home in just a few hours. 

There was one first I was not looking forward to: looking at the incision on my breast. I’ve had lumpectomies, but now a large portion of my breast had been removed. I needed time, and I wasn’t ready for that. I allowed myself the grace to take it slow. 

My plate was full, and my journey wasn’t over yet; I still had to speak with the medical oncologist and the radiation oncologist to see if I needed radiation. During the days following the surgery, I focused on gratitude. I meditated and used EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique, aka tapping) for the moments I felt overwhelmed. There were days I couldn’t handle one day at a time, and I had to take one moment at a time. That was okay.  

Gratitude was the key to my recovery. I am grateful I had cancer. It might sound crazy, but it’s true. I’m thankful that I learned a lot about myself and other people. 

My story isn’t only about cancer. It’s about rising above chaos, anxiety, and overwhelm. When it rains, it pours, and boy did it pour! There’s more.

Eight days after the surgery, as I was healing, hurricane Ida hit my area with a vengeance. Two of the three floors of my house were flooded, and the damage was immense. It was awful. The flooding was so extensive it was seen on the national news. We had never dealt with anything like this before; it was dreadful. Not only was a majority of my house ruined, but we lost all of our cars as well. 

I questioned God. I questioned why. Why now? How was I supposed to find gratitude in all of this? Once again, God whispered to me, “Practice what you preach. What would you tell your students or clients? Time to take your own advice.” 

This was a real challenge. I was angry, sad, confused, and overwhelmed. You name it; I felt it, sometimes all at once. 

It wasn’t until late the next afternoon that the water receded. We were finally able to get out of the house. Our neighbors gathered outside to survey the devastation. Some of them had lived through this before, so they guided us on what to do. The town pulled together. People that weren’t affected by the flood rose to help. Strangers would deliver food to the families so they wouldn’t have to worry about eating. People offered to do my laundry because we no longer had a washer and dryer. Friends offered us spare cars, so we were able to get around. People opened their homes for hot showers or to cool down in air conditioning. There was so much to be grateful for! I had to focus on those things. 

The flood added another layer to my story. I surrendered and did my best to keep it together, especially for my kids. My brother-in-law booked a flight to New Jersey once he saw the devastation and stayed with us for almost two weeks. He helped us tremendously. This allowed me to focus on my health and not worry about the house. It was hard, and I allowed myself to cry and experience whatever emotions flowed through me. 

With my house in shambles, contractors in and out, I had yet another first. My first visit with the radiation oncologist was virtual. Dr. Parikh explained I would need four weeks of radiation, and I would start on October 4th. That gave me more time to heal and allow my mind to relax. I didn’t have to think about treatment for a few weeks, and I could focus on the house and what needed to be done. 

The contractors worked almost every day. My husband dealt with the insurance company. I still had to take it easy and allow more time to continue to heal. 

Another first, October 4th, was here before I knew it. It was my first day of radiation, and I was prepared. I went to the hospital with a smile on my face and ready to take on this next step. 

Well, at least that’s what I thought. A technician came out to greet me. She explained the process to me, and it was show time. I was escorted into the room and froze after just a few steps. The machine, oh God, it was enormous! The technician asked me to repeat my name and date of birth, and I let out a cry that shook the walls. She spun around on her heels and ran over to me. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, and I’m going to take good care of you,” she said softly as she rubbed my shoulder. 

“Shit just got real!” I shouted. “Holy shit! This is happening!” I cried. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I don’t know why. It wasn’t as if I didn’t realize this was going to happen. Treatment was planned for weeks. Fear overcame every part of me. 

Another first. 

The lovely young lady technician softly said, “You are going to make me cry, and if I cry, I can’t work the machine!” That made me laugh, and I wiped the tears and touted, “Let’s do this!”

I made my way up on the table, and after adjusting, I had my first radiation treatment. It was done. It was painless. I did it! I let out a sigh of relief and hugged the technician. My husband greeted me with a smile and took me home. 

The following Monday, I had yet another first. It had been over a month since the surgery and I still hadn’t looked at my incision. With everything on my plate between treatment and the flood, I didn’t have the courage to look. 

Mondays were the day I met with the radiation oncologist after treatment. Before seeing Dr. Parikh, her nurse, Rena, would do an initial assesment. Rena came in to check to see if there were any visible changes to my skin after a week of radiation. I told her I wasn’t sure because I had yet to look at my scar. 

“Don’t you think it’s time?” she questioned.

“I did think about it yesterday and I tried, but I am so overwhelmed, I chickened out!”

“How about we do it together and I’ll hold your hand. It’s important that you look at it so you can be aware of changes.”

“Okay, but how does it look?” I wanted to know what I was getting myself into here. 

Rena smiled and said, “ A boob with no nipple!” We both giggled. She handed me a mirror and I peeked first with one eye, then the other. 

“Wow! It doesn’t look as bad as I thought!” I remarked. “I thought it was going to look like a pirate’s map!” 

We both laughed and Rena gave me a hug. “See, it wasn’t so bad after all.”

So many firsts on this journey so far. It was never so important to be able to stay in the moment, be grateful, and be open to learning the lessons. 

This last year of my life has had many chapters. Chapters that I never would have thought would be in my book of life. As I sit here and reflect upon what has happened, my heart is overflowing with gratitude. Cancer is scary. I now know just how scary it is. Funny how life turns out, the thing that scared me the most in my life became the one thing I am extremely grateful for. 

When you are faced with hardships, know you will grow, know you will have many firsts, know staying in the moment will help move you ahead, and know you have the strength to make it to the other side. 

Don’t just go through something, grow through it. Take on all the first like a champ. Put the firsts behind you and celebrate each step of the way. Every first is a win. Every first brings you closer to the end.  

Don’t just live your life. LOVE your life! 

The choice is yours. 

Teresa Lacorazza, M.S.Ed is a Holistic Arts Practitioner with over a decade of experience. Her mission is to inspire women and motivate them to identify their self-limiting beliefs, ditch self-sabotaging habits, and retrain the brain to generate new, positive, healthy thought patterns

so that well-defined pathways to desired goals are created. With extensive knowledge in modalities such as EFT (Emotional

Freedom Technique), meditation, visualization, positive affirmations, NLP, and intuitive development, Teresa knows how to individualize and tailor the healing process for each client that guarantees success.

After raising two children, one being born premature and needing much assistance, relocating several times, and battling breast cancer, Teresa has become passionate about mental health and the mind, body, and spirit connection. She is here to lead women on a journey that will teach them to HEAL themselves, EMPOWER themselves, and LOVE themselves in a loving and compassionate way. Teresa is a native New Yorker who currently lives in New Jersey with her husband of almost 25 years and their 2 college-age sons. She loves to visit with friends from Maryland and Tennessee, spend time with family, and entertain.

If you’d like to connect with Teresa and learn more about her practice, use the following links! 

Email: Teresa@HealEmpowerAndLove.com

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/HEALwithTeresa

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/teresa_lacorazza/ 

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTRvXbk6Wpe_GCjtsKfAHBg