A SURVIVOR'S STORY: SCARS, MARKS AND TATTOOS

by Debra (DJ) Corson

Seven was never my lucky number. I should have known it would be bad news when I was scheduled to learn the results of my biopsy for breast cancer on 7- 17-07.

To share my story, I have selected excerpts from my journal and ―updates‖ sent to friends and family.

Surgery
Our son asked me how I was doing as I was leaving for surgery. I said, ―I feel like this is the first day of feeling bad for months.‖ He said, “Mom, I believe this is the first day of you getting better.”

Chemo
Saturday—not great, but OK. Sunday—definitely not good. I better take something for this nausea thing…hum, I have three different meds for nausea, which one? This one can make you dizzy, this one is likely to cause a huge headache, this one makes you drowsy. Monday—THIS is BAD! Must not have taken the right thing for nausea … Food repulses me. I can’t watch TV because it is full of food commercials. I just want to get into a dark room, crawl into a ball, and sleep. It’s important for me to focus on the chemo as helping me get to better (not making me sick).

Losing my hair
It is always so windy at Hawkeye (Community College). When I walk across campus, I take $20. If my wig blows off, the accumulative effects of the chemo have me so worn down, I know I can’t run after it. With the 20 bucks, I’m hoping some passing student will run after it for the reward money.

From where we draw strength I’ve been playing the song Stand, by Rascal Flatts repeatedly. It helps me stay strong. The outpouring of support from friends is both overwhelming and humbling. All I can do is appreciate with my whole heart what has been done for me. Then, pay if forward because I can never pay it all back.

Finishing treatment
A celebration—my hair is growing back! I feel like a CHIA pet--just put some fertilized mud on my head, water it, and watch it grow! I’ll be glad when I have enough eyelashes to use mascara again. Wouldn’t you know, the wild hair on my chin is already back! I am in charge of my attitude, what I contribute to life, and how I treat my body. I am NOT in control of the outcome of this illness. I can hope for a miracle, but I cannot make one happen. And I am not a failure if one doesn’t happen.

My husband, who is in law enforcement, often talks about SMTs--Scars, Marks, and Tattoos. ​In his work, they are important for identification purposes. Breast cancer surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation gives survivors some SMTs of their own, but they aren’t just physical.

Our physical, emotional, and spiritual scars, marks, and tattoos serve as an important part of our identification: who are we today, and who we are becoming. 

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