When I meet another breast cancer survivor, she never fails to mention the exact date when she received the terrible news of her diagnosis. It is so strange that these days are often marked by a holiday. Mine was Christmas.
I’ve thought a lot over this past year, while suffering through the sickness of treatments, that this experience should be recorded. I’ve thought about writing it, photographing it, filming it. There seems to be shame surrounding it—an embarrassment, a need to hide, a need to retain and remain “normal”. Wigs, hats and scarves, prosthetics, padded bras….I felt it too. Lost in the missing, the loss. But what can be gained in the absence?
Recovery is a dance—with every few steps forward, a couple steps back is inevitable. I’m in the process—I’m still dancing. And questioning and exploring.
I was shocked when someone told me about this exhibit, The Scar Project—which was one I’d been expecting to embark on in the coming year—that is on NY now. I hope you will see it. Maybe I will see you there.