One Day At A Time @zarahpardo - Tumblr Blog

To all the cancer survivors and to those who are still fighting this battle...

What we carry is not always visible to the world. Most people don't see the endless appointments, the scans, the treatments, the waiting, the uncertainty, the exhaustion, or the quiet moments when fear creeps in. They don't see the strength it takes simply to keep showing up.

But we know.

And because of that, I have immense respect for every single one of you.

I am deeply proud of those who keep moving forward on the days when everything feels heavy. Proud of those who find reasons to smile through tears. Proud of those who are afraid, yet continue anyway. Because that kind of courage is extraordinary.

Cancer has a way of making us feel small at times. It can shake our confidence, challenge our bodies, and test our spirits. But never forget this: there is a strength within you that is far greater than you realize.

Every injection. Every treatment. Every sleepless night. Every setback. Every time you whisper, "I can do this," and take another step forward— that is courage in its purest form.

So today, I want you to hear this:

You are doing better than you think.

Even on the days when you feel overwhelmed.

Even on the days when your greatest achievement is simply getting through the day.

That is enough.

That is strength.

That is fighting.

And I am so incredibly proud of you.

One of the gifts that comes from this journey is knowing that we do not walk it alone. There is an unspoken bond between those who have faced cancer— a deep understanding that often needs no words. That connection is priceless.

So keep believing.

Keep breathing.

Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

And for once, take a moment to be proud of yourself.

Because what you are carrying, what you are overcoming, and what you continue to face every day requires a level of courage that most people will never fully understand.

Yet here you are.

Still standing.

Still fighting.

Still smiling 😌.

And that is something truly remarkable. 🎗️💝💗

#CancerWarriors #Survivors

April 8 -

It has been a year.

A year since the doctor pulled the ground from beneath my feet. The day I officially heard the words: breast cancer. Even though I already felt it deep down, my world suddenly froze—as if someone had pressed pause on my life while everything and everyone else kept moving.

I fell into a place that felt endless. Dark. Heavy. Lonely.

They told me it was “the best kind”—the kind where we caught it early (if there is such a thing). The prognosis was “good.” The five-year survival rate was high.

I know those words were meant to comfort me. And I truly appreciate that. But at that moment, I was in shock. After hearing the diagnosis, everything else became distant noise—words floating somewhere far away, unable to land.

What I did understand was this: I was about to go through it.

The “package” looked like this:

🔪 A mastectomy, because of a large affected area

🔪 Breast reconstruction using my own tissue

💊 Three years of anti-hormone therapy—hello, premature menopause. Yay! 🫩

A small light in all of this: no chemotherapy, no radiation.

I held onto that. I still do.

At first, I thought I’d be back at work in three months. It took nine.

Because cancer doesn’t end with surgery. And that’s something I wish more people understood.

So let’s name it, honestly:

My reconstructed breast doesn’t feel like mine. There’s numbness, a loss of sensation—and sometimes, pain that sits there like a heavy reminder.

Weeks after surgery, my shoulder began to fail me. It took 3 injections, months of physiotherapy, and patience I didn’t know I had just to regain functional movement. Even now, it's still not pain-free 😞.

And then there’s the part no one really sees. The mental weight. The quiet battles. The exhaustion that isn’t just physical. Thankfully, I’m not carrying it alone. Professional help, and the unwavering support of family and friends, have been my anchors.

Then there’s the medication—the anti-hormone therapy for the next three years. It protects me, yes. But it also comes with a cost: muscle cramps, joint pain, night sweats, broken sleep.

Some mornings, over coffee, I convince myself: "Today, I’ve got this. By afternoon, my body answers differently: "Not without a nap, you don’t." Some days, it feels like my body has become unfamiliar territory.

And perhaps one of the hardest truths to accept is this: You don’t just “bounce back.” You don’t return to who you were a few months after surgery. And as much as I want to do everything I used to do, there are days I feel… stuck 😞.

We live in a world that celebrates perfection. Where we feel pressured to show that everything is fine, even when it isn’t. But THIS—this is not weakness. This is actually strength. Strength to have the courage to accept what is handed down to you even when it is hard. And I’ve come to realize that cancer is not something that will break my spirit. And this type of courage will help me rebuild.. slowly.. gently.. one step at a time.

I am still a work in progress. Some days are heavy. Some days are lighter. And learning to accept both… somehow makes it easier to carry.

#warrior #survivor 🩷🎗️💝

Yesterday evening marked a milestone for Kassandra — her very first recital at her music school, where she’s been taking voice lessons. We were all eagerly anticipating the night… everyone except her. She was incredibly nervous and, at one point, almost wanted to back out.

To give some context, the week leading up to the recital was anything but easy. Last week, she was accidentally bitten on the face by our dog, and we had to rush her to the ER. Her upper lip and the right side of her cheek required stitches. What broke my heart most was that she wasn’t crying because of the pain or the shock—she was crying because she was worried she would “look ugly” and that she might have scars. If you know my daughter, you know she is a shy, introverted soul, already struggling with self-confidence. Worries like these only weighed heavier on her tender heart.

Then Saturday came, and with it, a persistent cough. Winter, with its endless colds and flu-like bugs circulating at school, caught up with her. In the days leading up to the recital, she was juggling antibiotics, puffers, throat lozenges, and cough syrup. During practice that Saturday, she grew frustrated because her sore throat kept her from hitting the high notes. By Sunday, she rested her voice completely, hoping and praying she’d be able to sing on Monday.

On our way to the recital, Kassandra was visibly on edge —fidgety, tense, and practicing in the car. Every time she coughed or missed a note, she grew angry with herself. I tried to reassure her that everything would be fine, but deep down, I felt a wave of guilt. After all, I was the one who encouraged her to pursue voice lessons in the first place. To ease her anxiety, I reminded her that her teacher would understand if some notes didn’t land perfectly.

When we arrived, the atmosphere felt tense —at least to me— and the performance room felt unusually cold. We were handed the concert program and discovered that Kassandra would be the first to perform with her group and third for her solo, out of a total of sixteen performances. Before the concert began, the audience was politely asked not to record, so as not to distract the children or disrupt the flow of the evening. And so, no video exists of what would become such a powerful moment 😐.

As the minutes ticked down to her first performance, I couldn’t bring myself to look at her anymore. I was afraid that if I saw her nerves, I might completely fall apart. Then the music began.

And suddenly, the room was filled with what sounded like angels singing—beautiful, innocent voices that warmed even the coldest corners of the space. When it was time for Kassandra’s solo, she stepped forward, calm and composed. She introduced herself and shared a little background about her song before singing Tomorrow from the musical Annie.

I was completely mesmerized. My eyes welled up, and the tears came without warning. She stood there and sang her heart out. The high notes she had been so worried about? She hit them—effortlessly, confidently, like a pro. My Annie! And just like that, it was over. She bowed gracefully.

I gave my girl a standing ovation.

Against all odds — her insecurities, her illness, her shaken confidence — she faced her fears and stood there like a courageous warrior. What she did went far beyond performing. It revealed her strength, her resilience, and her character.

I have never been prouder. My mama heart is overflowing with love and pride for this incredible girl. 💖

#MommyStories #Kassandra

I’ve always believed that the greatest gifts aren’t things, but experiences. The moments we share with our children— the laughter, the wonder, the quiet in-between— become the memories that shape who they are and how deeply we’re connected. These shared experiences build stronger bonds, nurture a grounded sense of self, and leave an imprint far more lasting than anything material ever could.

That’s why this year, we chose to give Kassandra an experience instead— a return to Efteling for her Christmas/New Year gift. The last time she was here was five years ago, when she was still a toddler. Coming back now, seeing the magic through her older eyes, feels completely different. It’s a reminder of how much she’s grown— and how grateful I am to keep creating new memories with her as she does. ❤️

#KassandraFaith #NewYear

The year 2025 unfolded like a quiet reckoning.

It revealed, sometimes gently and sometimes without warning, just how fragile life truly is— how quickly routines can shift, how easily certainty can unravel. Moments of loss, uncertainty, and struggle made it impossible to ignore that nothing is guaranteed, not time, not plans, not even the people we assume will always be there.

And yet, despite the weight of those realizations, something steadier emerged.

Hope did not disappear; it adapted. It showed up in small acts of courage, in choosing to keep going on days when stopping would have been easier. Resilience grew not from avoiding pain, but from moving through it— learning, bending, and slowly rebuilding. There was strength in persistence, in quiet faith, in the decision to believe that even after the hardest moments, life still offers meaning.

This year was not defined by what broke, but by what endured.

It ends as a reminder: life is delicate, yes—but within that fragility lives an incredible capacity to heal, to hope, and to rise again.

We welcome 2026 with open arms! ❤️

#YearEndReflections #HappyNewYear #2026

Part 4 – Postop at the hospital

May 29 – I was still in ICU but they told me I will be transferred to my room in the afternoon. I was given a bed bath that morning and as simple as turning a bit on the side to wash my back was an agony ☹. I heard the alarm from the monitors because my blood pressure spiked during the time they were washing me because I was in so much pain. On this day, they also introduced me to soft diet like yogurt. I was so relieved that at least I was given something to eat, but I was only on my second spoon when I began to vomit. It was horrible because my abdominals contract and my pain shoot up as well. I feel so nauseated, dizzy, and weak. I was hungry but my body was not allowing me to eat. The nurse modified the pain meds because he thought that it could be from the meds that I have nausea. All day that day I was only able to sip some water. Patrick and Kassandra were also able to visit that day. They waited until I was transferred to my regular room before they left.

I was so happy seeing these 2 beside me

May 30 – Day 3 postop. The pain was manageable with pain meds although I have to sometimes ask for extra pain pill when it was really too much to bear. For some reason I do not know, I developed some cough spells during the night and it was so painful! That morning, I was able to drink tea and eat a slice of bread without vomiting. It was a good improvement from yesterday. Also in the morning, the nurses still gave me a bed bath. Turning on the sides was still painful and having all the drains, catheter and IV lines did not help. After I was freshened up, I was then helped to sit on a reclining chair. There were 2 nurses helping me just to sit up! They were very patient with me because every part of my body was still very painful. I know the earlier I start moving, the faster my recovery would be. So, armed with that determination, I pulled all the courage I have to be able to sit up. I was only asked to sit for 20 minutes but I told them I will just call them again if I want to go back to bed. I was also able to videocall my family in the Philippines to reassure them that I am doing well and the operation was successful.

3 drains, a catheter and IV lines

Before lunch, I called the nurse to help me back into the bed because I also started having pain in my lower back from sitting too long. The nurse came and said it was a good progress sitting for more than 20 minutes. I was so happy with that small victory! Lunch time came and I tried to eat a little bit. I do not want to eat the whole thing up because I was afraid I might vomit it all out. So I was already satisfied with a bowl of soup and a bite of moussaka. Again, I considered this another small victory for that day.

This was very delicious but I did not eat that much

May 31 – Today I wanted to try to wash myself so I told the nurse who came to wash me that morning to just assist me for the places that I cannot reach. I was still in bed but this time I have the washcloth and was able to wash myself where I can. That morning, they also took 2 drains out – 1 from the breast and the other from the left side of the abdominal incision. And because I was also able to eat, they disconnected the IV drip and also took the catheter out to encourage me to pee in the toilet. I was so relieved that I only have 1 drain left so it was easier for me to move around without too many cables dangling around me. I was also able to walk around the room already, although I was walking with a stoop position because standing straight would stretch and strain the abdominal muscles and it would be very painful if I do that. Ate Lou and Mejie also visited me that day which I was very thankful for. 😊

Thank you very much for these beautiful flowers!

June 1 – Because I can already move around, this time I was able to wash myself on my own in the bathroom. I did not realize how challenging it was because I cannot stand for more than 5 minutes without having pain on my low back and abdomen. I think just for doing selfcare it took me more than 30 minutes because I need to pause and sit in between washing myself. Also, there is less sensation on the right side of my thigh which according to the nurse is normal due to the operation. Sensation on the reconstructed breast was also decreased; like when a nurse would check on it, I would not feel that she was putting pressure on the skin; like it was still under anesthesia; although I can still feel pain from inside but when I will be touched from outside, there is no sensation. My appetite and food intake has been better by this time because I was already able to finish my lunch ration without vomiting. I asked the nurse if there’s already a discharge date for me, and she said they are just waiting for the doctor’s orders and once the remaining drain I have is out, then I will be discharged.

My lunch was Flemish stew with potato wedges

June 2 – I woke up at 3 am today and I thought I dreamed of Clarice – then I realized it’s her birthday today. It was such an emotional day for me – I was a mess! The nurse that morning saw my puffy eyes and asked “what’s the matter?” In between sobs I talked about Clarice and how this battle I am fighting now is for her. I was glad that the nurse was just so emphatic and just sat down beside me and listened. Patrick and Kassandra who visited me every day were also surprised to see me so down that day. This was just one of those days when you just let the emotions flow. I just let myself cry the whole day that day..

I just let myself cry the whole day that day.

June 3 – I was told that the last drain will be taken out today and I can be discharged in the afternoon. The nurses were telling me that I had a very good progress in terms of wound healing and wound care can be done at home. I was given the postop do’s and don’ts and to strictly follow the postop guidelines for faster wound healing and recovery. I was so happy and relieved to hear that I can go home. I called Patrick and told him the good news. At last, I can finally start the road to recovery.

#breast cancer #breast reconstruction #mastectomy

Part 3: Surgery

Days leading to my hospital admission I began to set some goals for myself to do to physically and mentally prepare me for the upcoming surgery. Every day Patrick and I will walk for a minimum of 5 km or 10K step counts every morning. This is more a cardio training plus it relaxes me. And sometimes during these walks we will sit in a bench and just focus on the present moment, just being aware of our present state, paying attention on our senses, thoughts and emotions. This mindfulness meditation is a really good mental training for me that really helps calm my mind. What also calms my mind is when I sit alone in a corner to pray. One thing that really carried me through the years when faced with hardships and trials is my faith that God is good and He is bigger than my problems. Of course the thoughtful, uplifting, encouraging messages from friends, colleagues, and family really helped me a lot too. I felt seen, and heard, and validated.

Passing by our beautiful church in Menen during one of our walks

May 27 – Hospital admission, one day before the surgery. Patrick brought me to the hospital because I was scheduled for a CT scan at 1 pm. They did a preop scan of my left breast and scan with contrast for the lymphatics to mark the left sentinel node ready for tomorrow. After the scan, we went to the surgery department to settle in my room - I was given a one-person suite (to my surprise). They do not have any more place for me in a 2-person room, so it was a nice upgrade actually. Patrick was with me to help me settle in the room but he has to leave by 3 p.m. to pick up Kassandra from school and then come back to the hospital with Kassandra along, and they stayed with me until 8 pm that day.

My biggest support system – my family!

That evening, the assistant anesthesiologist came to the room to explain to me what to expect the day of surgery. It was actually comforting to hear from the doctors what is going to happen and their reassurance that everything will be fine. The nurses were also very friendly and helpful, answering some questions I still have. I was also given an anticoagulant injection on my thigh that evening which I will receive every day until discharge. As expected, that night I found it hard to sleep. I was excited and nervous, and if I am being honest, I am a little bit afraid – thinking what if the surgery went south or what if there were complications during surgery. I do not want to entertain any more negative thoughts because it’s not going to help. So, I just prayed. I lifted everything up to God and surrender everything.

My little girl lend me her "tiggy" so I can have company

May 28 – Day of surgery. I woke up very early that morning. I think I slept a good 4 hours. The surgery is on 8 am so I will be wheeled into the operating room around 7:15 am. Even if I only had 4 hours of sleep, I was really wide awake and felt rested. I told myself, I will be sleeping the whole day today anyway during the surgery, so I can catch up with sleep then. I showered and made myself ready. A nurse came in to help me put on the TED compression stockings and then I am good to go.

All ready in my hospital gown 😉

I was brought first to a pre-operative holding area where a nurse asked me some standard questions. At 7:30, I was brought into the OR where nurses and doctors were already getting ready. I felt a bit cold when we entered the OR. The plastic surgeon asked me to stand up then he marked my abdomen with what I assumed to be his incision sites. I was then asked to lie down on the operating table where I was positioned with my both arms abducted and strapped. The nurses came to connect me with all that machines, cables, and IV lines. My gynecologist/surgeon who will do first the mastectomy came to give me a pat on a shoulder and told me that everything will be alright. She is always that comforting and encouraging. After what seems like forever, the anesthesiologist came, asked me a few questions and then the masked was put on my nose and I was out…

At 6 pm I heard someone calling my name. it was the nurse asking me how I feel. The room was dimly lit and I heard some tooting sound from monitors which were connected to me for my vitals. I remembered waking up with so much pain I was even crying. I also was so thirsty but I was only given a water swab to wet my lips as I was still NPO. For the pain, the nurse on duty gave me a stronger pain meds and then I dozed off again.. I stayed in the intensive care unit for a day after the operation for close monitoring. The nurse was checking on me every 30 minutes. Aside from the vitals, they were checking on the wounds, wound drains, urinary output from catheter, and most specially the reconstructed left breast if blood circulation was optimal. I was the whole time just lying on my back with the headboard slightly higher; turning on the sides was not allowed because of wound drains on both my left and right sides; and also I cannot turn even if I wanted to because of so much pain. My incision was from my left to the right hip and the slightest movement was excruciatingly painful.

#breast cancer #diep flap surgery #mastectomy #breast reconstruction

I woke up on 3am today..in my half-awake-half-asleep state, the first thing that comes to mind is you. Then tears just fell…it’s your birthday today. Lying alone here in the hospital, what I saw in my mind were flashbacks of the last time I saw you alive - you were also lying in the hospital, in your confused state, fighting to live for your children..it was that memory of you that i have tried not to remember because it’s so excruciatingly painful to see..but it’s that same vision of you that keeps on coming back to me..i know you’re trying to tell me something..and i hear you now, loud and clear!

The fight that you fought but lost is now my fight, and I promise you, I will win this! We will rise victorious in this battle. Cancer is not going to crush our spirits down - I promise you that!

Today, I celebrate you my dear sister Clarice. For those who have known us a long time, they would say she was the most delicate one..but in my eyes, she’s the most caring and compassionate. She would be the one who would keep in touch even with far relatives. She’s a teacher and she takes pride in her noble profession. And still after her death, she’s still teaching me something. And I hear you sis… I will win this battle for you.

This picture of you was only taken November last year and this was also the last picture taken when you and your family were at our place. I love that that place provided some sort of peace and comfort for you. And this is the vision i want to remember you by…so serene..so calm..so at peace..i love you Clarice and we will always celebrate you. Happy birthday in heaven. 😘

From routine checkup to diagnosis (part 2.1)

14 May: This day is my last session with the psychologist before my operation on the 22nd. A lot of realizations and self-awareness. My take home from the session is that your childhood really plays a consequential role in your adulthood. Don’t get me wrong, I had a wonderful childhood. My papsie ang mama did everything to provide a safe and happy environment for us. We were loved and cared for the best way they knew how. But also I grew up in a generation when talking back to your elders, (even when you just to want to explain your side of the story), was already considered disrespectful; or when we cry because we were hurt from a fall or had a fight with a playmate, we were just told to zip it. And apparently, subconsciously, if I am confronted with the negative emotions, that I handle it with this learned behavior from childhood – just zip it in. Consequently, those big emotions were not given place and time to be processed. In time, these repressed and suppressed emotions will just have to find its place out. As for me, it manifests with panic attacks at night.. and unpacking these buried emotions that I have suppressed from grieving the loss of my sister and grieving for the state of my present health condition need time..

walking the dog everyday to prep me physically for the operation

reaching more than my target step count goal per day =)

16 May: Got a call from surgery to tell me that the planned operation on May 22 will be postponed due to the healthcare strike on that day. There would not be enough personnel for the surgery that day so they moved it on May 28. I will be admitted on May 27 for preoperative scan and other preop labs and the next morning is the operation. How do I feel about these changes? If I am being honest, it is already mentally exhausting to wait this long only to receive a call that I have to wait another more week. It’s mentally draining. I am having panic attacks at night. I would wake up in the middle of the night with rapid heart rate, like I can literally hear the fast ‘lubdub’ sound of my heart beating and then I cannot go back to sleep anymore. There are nights when I only have 2 hours of sleep and I am just wide awake staring at the ceiling wishing that sleep will finally visit me.. During the day, I will keep myself busy with anything to do in the house and then I will find myself all of a sudden with crying fits. I feel like sometimes my emotions are all over the place, uncontrollable, out of nowhere sneaking out of me without any warning. And then they are telling me I still have another week of waiting before the operation.. another week of this emotional mess?

I am totally overridden with mental anxiety, stress, fear, resentment, anger, also denial – I just sometimes do not want to accept the fact that I have cancer, who does? which I think is completely normal; especially being a mom.. I just want to spare my child with hardships that comes along with this diagnosis.. we (as mothers) typically tend to put ourselves way at the bottom of the barrel.. our priority ALL THE TIME is our children and family – it is just what we are hardwired to do. We tried to do everything to make everyone happy, thriving, and doing well while we also juggle with our own careers and work-related responsibilities.. we wear so many hats that we sometimes forget to take care of ourselves. I think more than anything, this sickness is going to teach me about letting other people help me.. and letting me take care of me because I have not done that in a long time..

they can feel my state of mind and so they kept me company

to be continued...

From routine checkup to diagnosis (part 2)

I let myself cried that day after receiving the dreaded news. The part that broke my heart into pieces was when Kassandra asked “Mom, are you going to die?” This was the moment when I held my child tight and assured her that mommy will fight to live. Kassandra does not know about cancer until she heard about my sister Clarice… and the only concept that she has of it is linked with death because of what happened to her aunt. So it was devastating, as a mother, to hear about her fear that I could die. It is at that moment of vulnerability that I told myself, I have to be strong for her. I have to compose myself and not show her that I am terrified inside. You know when you are going through so much emotions deep inside but you have to push and buried it away so your child will not see you in that state of weakness? – that is what I did. The next day, I went back to work. I have to make all administrative work in order and make all my backlogs of prescription and PT notes up to date among other things. I also already filed for leave for the week after because I am scheduled for a genetic screening and appointment with the breast clinic nurse.

April 14 was the first time I had a meeting with Marie, the breast clinic nurse. A very empathic, soft-spoken lady. She must have done this a million times already because she was so calm and reassuring in answering all the questions I threw on her. She then again explained to me that because my cancer is at stage 0 — abnormal cells were found in the lining of the breast milk duct but has not YET spread into the surrounding breast tissue — I don’t need radiation or chemotherapy after the surgery, which actually a good news. I then asked “why so drastic the treatment when the cancer cells has not even invaded the surrounding tissue?” She then went on explaining that although it is non-invasive now, if not treated, might evolve into the invasive type. And according to the biopsy report, what I have is a high grade type DCIS with possible micro-invasion and with an extensive zone of 5.5 cm in MRI. And the best treatment for it is to remove the left breast totally. At that point, I just cannot control my emotions anymore and cried my heart out. . An overwhelming feeling of helplessness just came over me. I must have looked so torn and lost that I heard her already on the other line arranging for a psychological appointment for me. That day, I also needed to have my blood extracted for the genetic screening so I was ushered to the laboratory as well.

Info brochures handed to me to read

April 16 was my first appointment with the psychologist, Hanan. My session with her was supposedly just for an hour but it went on for almost 2 hours because half of the time I was just bawling and weeping. It was clear in that session that I was still grieving for the loss of my sister, and grieving now for the uncertainty of my situation. It was during that session that the emotion of so much grief just came out of the surface.

April 18 – Patrick accompanied me with my appointment with the plastic surgeon. The first thing I noticed when we went in his office was all the certificates and achievements hanging on his wall. I don’t know if it is supposed to assure me that he is one of the best surgeons in the country because it was more intimidating to me. He has this aura of “I have done this for so many times and I know what I’m doing” kind of vibe. Very professional and a matter-of-factly kind of way in explaining to me the different breast reconstruction procedures and the pros and cons of each. You know that very smart and meticulous kind of doctor like Dr. Cristina Yang (of Grey’s anatomy). I also did my research before coming to this meeting, so hearing the explanation of the expert only strengthened my decision on choosing the DIEP flap surgery.

A very long hallway going to plastic surgery department

April 23 – Another psychotherapy session and this time the emotion that came out was deep-seated guilt, hopelessness and despair. It was a roller coaster of emotions! I find this session so emotionally exhausting because I didn’t know I have those emotions buried inside me. Guilt that I was not able to come home to say my last goodbye to my sister. Guilt that I was not physically present to support her emotionally when she was going through so much pain and suffering. It was a session of dark emotions – I was angry and blaming myself for everything that’s happening to me. This is the side of me I didn’t know existed and I barely recognized myself during that session.

My once a week session since my diagnosis

April 24 – Another meeting with the onco team to discuss changes in the treatment plan. Due to the family history of an aggressive cancer I was advised to wait for the result of the genetic testing. They have to rule out genetic factor as it can affect the course of treatment. If genetic screening turns out to be positive then a double mastectomy is highly advisable. And because I chose autologous breast reconstruction, waiting for the result of the genetic test is the most logical thing to do if in case double mastectomy should be performed. The tentative date of surgery of May 5 was then postponed for further advice. My mind was at that moment in panic mode. How long should we wait? What if the cancer cells spread? I was then reassured that they already ordered to expedite the genetic screening so results will be in 2 to 4 weeks. I went home not feeling reassured at all…

April 29 – Got a call from the breast clinic nurse for an appointment with the surgeon as the genetic test result was received and it was in my favor.. I have an appointment on May 5 to finalize the schedule for surgery.

April 30 – Maybe because of the good result of the genetic test, I felt so relieved like a big chunk of burden on my shoulders was pulled out. The session with my psychologist that day was a little bit lighter. Coming home, I felt more hopeful..

May 5 – At the multidisciplinary onco consult, the surgery is scheduled on May 22. I will be admitted on May 21 for preop preparations. I was also scheduled for a CT scan of the abdomen on May 7. This is needed for the DIEP flap surgery.

To be continued…

WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT…

From routine checkup to diagnosis (Part 1)

I am sitting here in front of my laptop contemplating – thinking what I should write first. These past months have been very difficult for me, emotionally and mentally.. so many things have been in my head and it’s overwhelming – my mind is in chaos.. and when things are not in order, there is a tendency to shut down and I don’t want that to happen. So here I am trying to collect my thoughts and doing my very best to make sense of what has happened, what’s happening and what’s going to happen next..

WHAT HAS HAPPENED

To put things in perspective, maybe it’s better to start from the beginning of this year – January. The start of the year 2025 has not been good for the family. This was the month when my younger sister Clarice died. This has been devastating for us all to say the least.. She was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 years prior. She had undergone mastectomy, chemo and radiation. She was recovering well…in fact she even returned to work early last year (2024). Then her cancer came back with a vengeance! And this time it metastasized to her lungs and liver… she was still fighting until the very end for her children but her fragile body was not able to take it anymore – then she finally succumbed.. it was heartbreaking for all of us..

Videocall with the family was the only thing I could do because I couldn’t go home…

WHAT’S HAPPENING

February 26, I had my appointment with my gynecologist. It was just a routine checkup.. and since I am also turning 50 this year and transitioning to menopause, I told myself, this is also the right time to ask prescription for my pre-menopausal symptoms of mood swings and night sweats.. I mentioned to my doctor what happened to my sister and how aggressive her cancer was. There are no other family history of cancer for both my mother and father side. I remember the look of concern I saw on her face and she said she will also order a mammogram as part of the routine check. The next day I went for the mammo screening.

March 4, I got a call from my gynecologist. I was at work and was not able to answer her call in the morning so I returned her call by noon during my lunchbreak. I was told that I have to go back for another mammo and an echo because they have seen something suspicious in the left breast. I was then scheduled on March 6. If you have not had a mammo screening before, then I tell you this – it was really painful for me. They said it’s not that bad, but for me it was. Your breast would be in between two plates and compressed for what seems like eternity.. and then they are telling me to go back and do it all over again?!

March 10 my gynecologist called and informed me that the same lesion was seen but it is not conclusive. So I was advised for an MRI scan and the earliest that they can book me is on March 22. At this time, I am already developing some form of anxiety. I have difficulty sleeping and if I finally was able to sleep, I would wake up in the middle of the night with raising heart rates. Going to work has been my solace as it diverts my mind into thinking all sorts of bad things plus it keeps me busy. I don’t want to entertain any bad thoughts and I don’t want to worry for nothing so going to work has been a good diversion.

I don’t know why but going inside the MRI room was so terrifying for me..

March 25 another call from my gynecologist telling me she has just received the MRI report and that the lesion seen on my left breast was approximately 5.5 cm x 4.4 cm x 2.2 cm… and because it was BIRADS 4 on the report, biopsy was then recommended. I was then scheduled for a stereotactic breast biopsy on March 31. It has then dawned on me that this might be really serious. Now I have to go for biopsy! So many questions and so much emotions gushing through me.. I was trying not to be overcome by fear. It was a struggle, but I have to maintain control and stay strong.

The day of the biopsy, I was actually feeling perky and positive. I am conditioning my mind that everything will be fine. The procedure itself was something else. If I give mammogram a pain scale of 6/10, I will give biopsy a pain scale of 10/10. It was excruciatingly painful! Like in the mammo where the breast is compressed in between plates, the biopsy I had was the same - my left breast was pressed in between plates while a long needle was inserted inside to suck a portion of breast tissue while I am not allowed to move even a fraction of a movement. I was just lying there crying and biting my tongue to keep me from moving, but deep inside I was screaming from pain. The nurse said a local anesthesia was administered but I felt every single thing! It’s a good thing Patrick was with me to drive me home because moving my left arm was just impossible without pain.

Another day at the hospital…

April 3 while at work, I was already feeling more anxious. I was already expecting a call from the day before but they have not called me yet. That afternoon, I was in front of the computer when I felt my heart skipped a beat or I’m having tachycardia, I don't know anymore... I felt that there was something so I asked our head nurse in the room if I can get my phone to check if I had a call. And there it was - 3 missed calls. It was my gynecologist. I called her back and the first thing she said was “I’m afraid I don’t have a good news for you…” and everything just went blurred. I was on the phone hearing about the next appointment with a multidisciplinary team and that further questions will be discussed and answered during that meeting, but I don’t actually understand anymore what else she said in that phone conversation. I just remember crying after that phone call and my head nurse even volunteered to drive me home if needed. I remembered sitting there for awhile crying my heart out and after that I composed myself to be able to drive home. I did not even finish my duty that time. All I just wanted was to go home and be comforted by Patrick and Kassandra.

April 8 was our wedding anniversary. Patrick and I are 14 years married. But instead of celebrating that day or having an anniversary date, we were inside a conference room with doctors and nurse. The diagnosis – DCIS. I have ductal carcinoma in situ. Ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) is a type of early-stage cancer where cancer cells form in the lining of the milk ducts in the breasts. The doctors were very comforting in telling me that it’s a good thing it was detected early and prognosis for DCIS are very good. They further explained that because my DCIS is grade 3 or high grade and it’s quite big (5.5 cm), the most appropriate treatment with high rate of success is mastectomy of the left breast. And if I consent, a constructive surgery can also be done on the same day. They gave me a tentative date of operation which is May 5. Days leading to the surgery, I still have to do some blood works, genetic screening, appointments with plastic surgeon, appointments with psychologist and meetings with breast clinic nurse to arrange other administrative work. I walked out of that meeting with so much questions than ever and a feeling of overwhelming emotions cascading over my body. How could this be happening to me? How to break the news to my mother who just lost her daughter in breast cancer just a few months back? I don’t know how to deal with these heavy emotions when I am still grieving for a loss of a sister from breast cancer, and then 2 months after losing her, I was also diagnosed with breast cancer. How can life be so unfair?

Medical oncology waiting room

To be continued...

#diagnosis #dcis

#KassandraFaith

Reposting this because it hits home 🥹

You Don’t Grieve Just Once

Grief isn’t a single moment. It doesn’t arrive, say its piece, and leave. Grief stays. It lingers in the quiet, waiting to remind you that love and loss are forever entwined.

You grieve not just once but every time you wake to another day without them. You feel it when a song plays, when a memory surfaces, when their favorite chair sits empty.

Grief doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it whispers softly, and other times, it crashes into you like a storm, taking your breath away. It’s a tidal wave that pulls you under just as you think you’ve found your footing.

There’s no “getting over” this kind of loss. There’s no final goodbye to the ache it brings. Instead, you learn to carry it—to live alongside the pain and let it shape who you are.

Be kind to yourself, and to others who carry this invisible weight. Grief is a journey that reshapes your world daily. It’s not about “moving on”; it’s about moving forward with the love that still remains.

You don’t grieve just once. You grieve every day, in moments big and small, for a lifetime.

Because love never dies—it manifests in a different form.

For everyone navigating this storm: You are not alone.

Unknown author

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When life was much simpler then...

#80s #Instagram

Some highlights of Kassandra's first holy communion ceremony at church.. so proud of how this little shy girl bloomed into who she is now 😁🥰..singing with the choir and reading responsorial psalms and prayer for the faithful ☺️..and the celebration was made more special because our family came all the way from the Philippines to celebrate with us! 😍 Such a memorable event for my girl! #KassandraFaith #FirstHolyCommunion #April282024

#KassandraFirstCommunion #April282024 #Menen #Belgium

A token of appreciation from our director for being more than 10 years in service... Wow, didn't feel like I work here for that long already! I love my job 🥰 😊

#physicaltherapist #kinesitherapeut #AssistedLivingFacility #Wintershove

"..I’ve learned that no matter how difficult things seem, there is always hope. And I’ve learned that no matter how powerless we feel or how horrible things seem, we can’t give up. We have to keep going. Even when it’s scary, even when all of our strength seems gone, we have to keep picking ourselves back up and moving forward, because whatever we’re battling in the moment, it will pass, and we will make it through. We’ve made it this far. We can make it through whatever comes next." -Daniell Koepke

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