Survivor Q&A: Connie Pombo

Last night I posted Connie Pombo’s survivor story. I also had the honor of asking her a few questions about survivorship … here’s what she shared:

What was the worst part of your experience with breast cancer?

The worst part of my cancer diagnosis was knowing that I might not be alive to see my children through safe passage into adulthood; they were just 9 and 14 when I was diagnosed. But on a more personal level, I had a difficult time with all the choices: lumpectomy, mastectomy, chemo, radiation. I wanted someone to tell me what to do, but no one could help me with that part; I had to listen to my heart. The end of treatment was also difficult. After six weeks of radiation, I was told, to go and live the rest of my life. I had almost forgotten how, but cancer gave me the courage to realize I could survive anything; even the end of treatment!

What was the greatest lesson having breast cancer taught you?

I think the song, “To Live Like you Were Dying,” by Tim McGraw just about sums it up. Facing my own mortality was a gift; it allowed me to see life as not one day promised, but one day as a gift. I no longer had the luxury of thinking I had infinite tomorrows; I only had this present moment. I still cringe when I hear the words, I’ll do that when I retire. I made a passionate to-do list of 27 things I wanted to do before I died and I’ve accomplished every single one (except parachute out of an airplane!). Cancer was a second chance at life!

Looking back over your experience … is there anything you would have done differently? Anything you’re particularly proud you did “right”?

In the beginning, right after treatment, I wondered if I could have done anything differently. I realized later — much later — that there are no wrong answers when it comes to cancer. I made the best possible choice for me. Because of a surgical error, I never knew the size of my tumor, but I was lymph node negative and estrogen receptor positive. Because of that, I chose to have an oophorectomy and take tamoxifen for five years. At the time, that was considered radical, to remove healthy ovaries in a 40-year-old woman. After the clinical trial was complete, it turns out that I made the right choice. I also changed surgeons and had my lumpectomy done by a breast cancer surgeon. Statistics reveal that women who have their surgery done by a “breast cancer surgeon,” have a 40 percent greater chance of survival. I learned the importance of being my own advocate and doing my own research. Since my background was in health information management, I had resources available to me that other women don’t have. However, I tell every woman to do her research, ask lots of questions, and if you don’t understand something, seek out someone who will explain it to you. When you’ve done all that you can do and made your decision, don’t second guess yourself, and never look back!

What was the best advice you received?

The best advice I received was from a nurse oncologist who said, “Cancer isn’t the end of life, but the beginning of a totally new life.” Before cancer and after cancer are totally separate lives, I never compare the two. In many ways cancer was a blessing; I learned to value what was important in my life. I know for sure I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing today had it not been for March 21, 1996. Cancer was a hard teacher, but the lessons I learned were invaluable: living in the present moment and pursuing my passions!

How did you adjust to the ‘after-cancer life’?

It’s been 12 years since my diagnosis and it’s true that it does get easier with time. The first five years were definitely the most difficult. In the beginning I saw cancer as a huge boulder;so large that I couldn’t see past it. Later it became like a rock; I could finally see the other side. And then it became like a pebble in my shoe; I knew it was there, but I didn’t want to stop to take it out. Now it’s more like grains of sand in my shoe: a constant presence, a friendly reminder of the once huge boulder that stood in my way. Cancer survivors begin their survivorship the day they hear the word ‘cancer.’ We never stop looking over our shoulder, but we learn that uncertainty is part of our reality and trying to find serenity within that uncertainty is the key to truly living.