I Have Breast Cancer


My body betrayed me last week when I found out that I have cancer.

Breast cancer. What?

But it doesn’t run in my family, I said. I’m only 35, I said. I breastfed 2 babies and pumped for another, I said. I am not the demographic. I am an outlier. What. The. F**k. I have always hated my boobs. They are gigantic. When I was pregnant with my daughter they grew to an I cup. I for “I have gigantic boobs”.

Just cut them off, give me a nice set of perky B’s and let’s move on! Take ‘em. I don’t care.

Only some of you will know the emotions that accompany this kind of news. I, being the stubborn and terrible patient that I am had gone to this doctor’s appointment alone. I had not told a soul, not even my amazing husband, that I had discovered some funky bumps on my breast and had been referred to this Breast Surgeon-The Breast Guru, my primary doctor called her. I didn’t tell anyone because I thought it would be nothing and I did not want to unnecessarily worry anyone. I thought, at the most, this was a little skin abnormality and they would scrape it off. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think CANCER.

Over the past week, since I’ve heard those words I’ve been floating through this surreal fog, going to appointments, delivering news to loved ones, weeping in public. Sometimes when I’m walking each step reminds me, cancer, cancer, cancer, until I push that out of my head and move on to my next task. When the worst possible fears crowd my otherwise glass half full way of thinking I use all of the grace and patience I have to allow those feelings to come and then let them pass. I have allowed my loving family and dearest friends to guide me away from my dark moments with love in their eyes and the reassurance that we will get through this.

And don’t think the irony is lost on me that it’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

Oh, I know! I have always been a supporter of this cause, but I just wish it wasn’t snuggled up next to me while I prepare for this trip. It’s everywhere. It’s in the pink ribbon profile FB page and in the pumpkin milkshake special at the local restaurants. It’s in the Zumbathons and the conferences and the pink out days. It’s being broadcast during football games and even the Empire State Building that my dear sister sees out of her window in NYC is pink.

Despite the “in your face” message this is delivering to me and my family, I am also seeing it as an opportunity to set the stage. My light in all of this has been the overwhelming support from my communities. I am a giver and I have been my whole life. I don’t do well in this seat. I’m a much better champion. But I can’t be that right now. I will need to be using all of my energy to get through this disease.

But I see you, community. I feel your love. I’ll use your strength. I need you.

I haven’t told my kids. I plan to. I plan to give them as much information as they need. And I’ll use my therapist friends and the child life specialist and the guidance counselor at school and they will be okay. They will be surrounded with love and light and sparkles and rides to school and playdates and ice cream cones. And hopefully this experience helps build their strength and character. They will need you too.

So let’s do this people. I’m going to face this like a Zen Yoga Warrior-with strength, patience, flexibility. I will be fierce and determined and stubborn.

Cancer, you idiot-you fool, you have picked the wrong girl to mess with.

Pink breast cancer poster
If you want to follow the rest of my journey, come on over to my new website! It’s a work in progress, but updates are being made! http://hakunamatatas.me/


  1. Maggie,
    I am sorry to hear that you have to fight this fight. You will rock this battle, just like our little Addi does every day. On the hard days, remember that there are people beyond the ones you can see every day that are sending you strength and love. Ian and I are only two of them.

    Kick Cancer’s Ass Maggie.


    • I drove by your neighborhood tonight (I don’t even know if you still live there!) and thought of your family and how Addi was doing. Then I got home and this message popped up. Power of positive thinking. I am very inspired by Addi and will keep her in my heart as I push through. Much love to you all!

  2. Maggie,
    I remember you as a middle schooler and high school young lady. My prayers are coming your way and I will keep up with your posts. God Bless

  3. Stay strong Mama, accept help, crumble when you need to, and know that here’s another Mom praying for you! Best best best health wishes to you!

  4. Hakunamatatas Maggie! F* yeah you better sing that song! My aunt quietly, gracefully, beat that bitxh called C! And she did it with hope, prayers and the surmounting support of family. So yes, embrace our support as it is our turn to give back. Let us do what we know best! And I know you WILL fight and win this bitxh because you are a warrior! Love you and can’t wait to have SOS this weekend and watch our kids play and sing!

  5. I am a 32 year old mom of a 5 year old and diagnosed in April. I have always been an optimist and I have managed to get through with my spirit in tact (for the most part). If you need to talk email me 🙂


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