Story time
Buckle up. This one is going to be a bit long (but I’ve included photos!)
This is what I used to look like in 2019. Not proud, but it was what it was.
Babies and orthopedic injuries add up.
Then I got Covid in 2020. It hit my gut and never let go. For about a year and a half I couldn’t taste or smell food and my body couldn’t digest food.
It became a struggle to eat enough to survive. I lost a lot of weight – 85 pounds. I even became malnourished.
On top of this battle, In 2022 I was dxed w invasive breast cancer two weeks before I was supposed to sign up to run for state rep.
What to do? What to do? I knew what cancer was. I knew it was deadly. And to put this on top of Long Covid? Yikes.
I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble.
But I also knew that I had a voice that needed to be heard. I had a fight with PFAS polluters that still needed to be fought.
So I figured, if I’m going to go down, I’m going to go down fighting.
I signed up to run for my second term.
During my campaign I had a bilateral mastectomy.
Ouch.
Before I went to the hospital I wore a shirt that said “I’m not dead yet”
After the surgery I held a sign that said “Still not dead.”
It became a “thing”
During treatment and that surgery – I was elected by the good people of my town.
Because of the high amount of PFAS chemicals in my blood, it was then decided that my ovaries and fallopian tubes needed to be removed. That was in December after I was elected. (My uterus was long gone, being destroyed by my sixth child on her way out.)
And then due to complications and scar tissue, I had to have a complete chest revision.
(do not recommend) where I was literally cut in half.
I saw Game of Thrones, I now know from personal knowledge that flaying is exquisite torture.
You can see the exhaustion and pain in my face. I was still losing weight uncontrollably and was in so very much constant agony.
This is when I started doubting if I was going to be able to kick this thing.
(FYI – we had an important nasty bill to stop, so I was in the house chamber 3 days after this surgery, sitting in a metal folding chair for 8 hours so that I could vote. A rep’s got to do what a rep’s got to do.)
When your body has been changed by cancer and long covid it takes a while to recognize yourself. I was a different shape and size, I could no longer dye my hair. For the first time in my life, I went gray. I ground 4 of my teeth into dust because of pain, I had large gaps in my teeth. My body was a wreck.
I avoided mirrors. I hid my body. I wondered if I’d ever be happy again.
But then I realized that I had an opportunity here. I still didn’t know if I was going to survive, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do good things NOW.
I forced myself to look in the mirror.
And I started documenting what I wore to the state house using #NormalizeFlatsInTheHouse
Most people thought I was promoting @Vans (a shoe I adore and always wear in the house)
But (and here’s the big reveal) I was really advocating for breast cancer patients (get it, “flats”)
There are so many women with cancer.
These women need to know that we can still get into good trouble and do good works.
It may be tougher for us, we may have to take breaks or go about things in a different way.
But we still have worth, thoughts and good deeds in us.
Cancer does not take that away,
I made arrangements with the House Clerk, I was able to bring protein drinks on the floor. I always carried a barf-bag in my purse. I ate a lot of crackers. I made it all work.
This is my first “Bathroom selfie” Honestly, you could probably have pushed me over with a feather at this point. I was so weak.
But I showed up.
And I kept at it. Each time I was in Concord, I took a photo. I did it for me and for all the other people who could use some hope and inspiration.
Yup, it’s tough. It’s really, really tough. But until our last breaths, we are still us. Cancer will never take away our true identities.
I played around with color.
I played around with shapes.
And slowly, slowly, I started getting stronger. I gained weight. I found a new and stronger voice.
I endured.
I persisted.
I am not the same person I once was. The old me no longer exists. Anyone who has gone through a life-changing challenge can relate.
Parts of me are (literally) gone.
My gut will never be the same.
I have embraced a lesson taught to me by a good friend, I’ve learned to “Let go or get dragged.”
I learned that there is only so much energy I am given each day, and I’m not going to waste it on the small stuff.
I’ve learned that waking up each morning is not a given but a gift.
And I’ve learned that relationships and friends are our true blessings.
Here is my last selfie of this term. My body is magnificent.
I am magnificent.
I made it.
Today, I am being closely monitored by my doc but there appears to be no sign of cancer. I realize that this is only due to incredible luck. I know of so many women dxed at the same time or after me who have already died.
I have no explanation for why I am not in that group.
I also realize that with the PFAS in my blood, it is highly likely that cancer will return at some point (you did catch that sneaky little word – Invasive, right?). But until that happens, I will keep on keeping on.
Of course, there have been small people who think the best way to attack a woman is to attack her looks.
But all of those out there who think they can hurt me by calling me (us) in my “bathroom selfies” – ugly, gross, and old and who try their hardest to diminish my (our) worth?
What those small people don’t understand is that you can never destroy something that has been forged by fire.
Despite the uncertainty.
Despite the pain.
Despite the absolute misery.
I continued to show up in order to do my job.
I showed up.
And if I can do it. You can do it.
We aren’t dead yet.
In solidarity with all my friends who may be struggling,
Wendy
P.S. I’m happy.