[Andrea Barnett Budin]

My life was in an especially splendid phase. My two daughters were grown, one married and a Law School graduate, the other following the family tradition, now also graduating Law School. My little girls blossomed into such beautiful, lovely young women. Bright and funny, charming and genuinely caring. HOW TRULY BLESSED I FELT. I had the good fortune of spending the winter at our "other" home, our condo in Boca, which is as close to paradise as one can get on earth. I returned to New York to finally try to sell my beloved home on Long Island (filled with twenty six years of cherished memories). I wanted to move to the area I'd always dreamed of being able to somehow afford, closer to the city, where my husband worked. Cutting his commute by hours a day and making a fresh start. Paul and I were busy enjoying our freedom (but for our precious puppy who was getting on in years). Family gatherings were each remarkable and so very special. No longer plagued with sibling bickering and the need for my constant mediations. Now we laughed late into the night around the kitchen table (that had lived through various incarnations in our family). It held the energy of each of us, throughout numerous decades that had so quickly slipped away.


I had turned fifty and was entering a grand stage, despite the incessant hot flashes that stalked me long before and far beyond menopause. We sold our home in Dix Hills in just ten days. I found a fabulous condo in Manhasset that was being foreclosed. Sad for the owner, great for Paul and me.We outbid all others and this dream of a home was ours. We signed two contracts in one week. Life was so sweet...


Meanwhile, I'd moved my late August mammography up two months. I had this strange general hardness of my left breast. NOT A LUMP. What could it be? It was something that needed attending to. I was keenly aware of this, way in the back o my mind, for months. Apprehension was undeniable, but I told myself it couldn't be cancer. *Other* people got cancer. And, it wasn't a pea or a marble, after all. It was an overall dense sponginess. Turning fifty had brought many unwanted changes in my body.


After the mammography, the radiologist did a sonogram (which was new). I often had to go for additional pics as my breasts were dense. I now believe the vast majority of women have dense breasts. The radiologist looked very distressed. I sensed that she was quite agitated and anxious as she seemed to rush into the exam room. I hoped it was because her day was super busy. I tried not to take it personally. Then, she abruptly told me to get dressed and meet her in her office. Once there, both seated, she locked eyes with me and clasped her hands on her desk. With her eyes still fixed on mine she blindly moved her stack of papers aside with her clasped hands. YOU NEED A BREAST SURGEON, she began with a heavy sigh and a heaving chest. Her eyes remained locked on mine, her hands folded tightly on her desk. Maybe it's a cyst, I offered hopefully. NO. What you have is -- a solid mass. The dramatic pause was noted by me with alarm. It appeared to be a dire situation.


I kept thinking -- is a solid mass the same as a tumor? Even so, aren't there *benign* tumors? I did not ask, afraid of the answers. I wasn't quite ready. She offered to call a great breast surgeon for me. I could not speak. I nodded. I'd heard the name as I'd asked friends who often had things found in their breast that required biopsies. I never had such a thing. Never. She called the breast surgeon at his office but the message said the office was closed and would not reopen until Tuesday. It was now five o'clock on the Friday of the Fourth of July. She offered to call him at home. Again, I could only nod, I could not seem to form words. She described my situation and it horrified me. What I overheard was very serious I could tell by her tone and of course her description. The surgeon agreed to open his office Saturday morning just for me, after hearing her detailed description of my situation. This doctor opened his darkened office just for me! I was blown away by that factor alone. Obviously, I was a walking emergency. After examining me, Paul and I met with him in his small private office. He confirmed that I had a “large” TUMOR in my breast that had to be removed. It was so large in fact, chemotherapy before surgery to reduce the size would be fruitless. It was so large, a MASTECTOMY would be needed regardless of the pathology report!! His voice was gentle, professional and full of compassion. Years of working in this delicate area had not inured him. His caring and concern were in his face, in his body language and hand movements. He had looked at my xrays which the radiologist had told me to take to him. He had examined me. He said what we were looking at was most likely breast cancer. I sat calmly or perhaps I was in a kind of catatonic state. As we sat on the other side of the desk, at one point Paul asked specifically --How certain are you? I awoke from my fugue and turned to hear the answer I dreaded. The doctor hesitantly related that he was -- 99% certain the tumor was MALIGNANT.


It took a millisecond for me to move from total shock and the inability to utter a single word to realize emphatically that I WANTED TO LIVE. Above all else, I intended on surviving! I looked at my husband's face. It was so telling. Nearly thirty years of being together at the time, we could read each other well. He looked so grim. As if he were already in mourning! He appeared overwhelmed with hopelessness and sadness. Seeing this, I was motivated to finally speak up. I smiled at Paul with all the love I had for him and said in no uncertain terms -- Don't call the funeral home yet. I plan on living! The doctor laughed and leapt at the opportunity. On the edge of his seat, his hand high in the air, he said, Good for you. There's no reason to think otherwise! Paul let go of his grip on pain and sorrow for the moment. The doctor and I had startled him back to life.


At home, Paul asked me, But what if it is malignant?!, as we both paced in juxtaposition to one another, from one end of the house to the other. Each of us was lost in silence, replaying the events of the last two days. He was obviously devastated. In answer came my words, reflecting my thinking. I said calmly, Then, I'll deal with it! He nodded, and repeated what I’d said. Almost. Then, we'll deal with it, he muttered as he continued his pacing in the opposite direction. I had just heard one of the most beautiful expressions of love I could possibly imagine. He instinctively had included himself in the battle to save my life. WE would prevail!


I had always been staunchly resistant to ever agreeing to having a breast removed. I felt these features identified me. The tiniest hint of cleavage was a part of my look. My breasts were so sensually pleasurable and a part of love making. But in a nanosecond I found myself saying with urgency -- Get it out! As soon as you possibly can. I want the cancer cut out of me, no matter how you have to do it. I knew immediately that I would still be me. A girly girl to the end. Makeup, earrings and femininity went with my smile – projecting my deepest Self. I would simply have to recreate myself with fresh flair.


I began meditating and directing my body to heal, from that night forward. The breast surgeon's apologetic prediction required my utmost focused energy, I knew. I began reading books Paul quickly purchased on this dreadful disease, believing knowledge is power. I could ask better questions armed with information no ordinary person ever needed to concern themselves with, unless... I rejected the grim statistics I read immediately, refusing to become an unknown percentage of defeated yet brave warriors. Who are Life's victors? -- popped into my head. I'd been a student of this exact subject since early childhood, struggling to survive a rage-filled home as a helpless, defenseless and terrified tot under tyrannical rule. I'd always paid attention to the answers when the question was asked -- Why do you think it is YOU survived and so many did not? Why do you think YOU won (the race, the gold medal, the contest)? What did you do differently do you think? I stopped whatever I was doing and became riveted, even as a young child. I needed to know. To learn!

The common thread? ALL WINNERS, and the losers as well -- KNEW the outcome. They could see it, feel it and believed in it with every fiber of their being!!! I always KNEW I would win. I dreamt about it. I had this vision… Or, I just KNEW I wasn’t going to win. I was doubtful from the start.


WHAT YOU THINK ALL DAY, WHAT YOU BELIEVE WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND WHAT YOU *KNOW* DETERMINES THE OUTCOME. I'd also been a proponent of the reality of the phenomenal mindbody connection. I KNEW that you could direct your body to respond, to heal . I had learned to do this after years of constant back pain that at times became immobilizing. I had passed a kidney stone the size of Texas that was stuck in my urethra. It took me ten weeks of consciously dwelling upon achieving my goal. My tools were my thoughts, and my image of the route the raspberry of razor-sharp points had to take to exit (as shown me by the urologist with the plastic figure of our innards that sat on his desk). My personal experience reflected what had resonated from the moment I first heard about the link on the Public Broadcasting Network in the '70's. I'd seen prestigious studies and stories validating this truth, and always believed that even with cancer you can consciously choose not to buy into the mob mentality of fear that is generated from the very utterance of the whispered word -- cancer. I have long believed that we each have the power to choose instead to claim and embrace our personal empowerment. That this is humanity’s birthright. We have the ability to rally all inner and Universal forces to do the impossible!


Living half a century had brought me some wisdom, many survival skills and invaluable Life Lessons. It all had to happen for a reason. Even after my metastases three years later, and finding that I was 80% positive for the newly discovered and highly aggressive HER2 gene, I saw the good news. Herceptin was then in clinical trials and it was the *smart bomb* that would target the defective gene and stop it from overproducing a certain protein. This bad gene was responsible for 20% of breast cancer. (The medical researchers are still learning about how to get control over what causes the remaining 80% of breast cancer. Tykerb and various combinations of known chemotherapy drugs are working for those patients, once they find the perfect recipe just for them.)


Since 1995, I began to grow even more Spiritual in my philosophy of Life. I now have a heightened awareness that brought along new vistas and previously unseen perspectives. Priorities quickly rearrange themselves when you are diagnosed with cancer. You begin to see the sublime in the ordinary. You quickly see what truly matters versus the silly stuff you thought was so important before. You see how blessed you are. How big the little things are. You cherish each relationship all the more, fearing the loss of it. You see the beauty of the world that passed you by before as you were hurrying along engrossed in your daily activities and responsibilities. You are more open to seeing the power of using guided imagery and feeding your mind unshakeable positivity. By scripting your mental dialogue you can alter your fate! What you think all day determines how you will feel emotionally, as it predicts outcomes!! Even against all odds. Your mind just needs to be rebooted, reprogrammed and refreshed. The opportunity to do this comes with major crises. A portal opens and you are afforded a unique entry into a wondrous and new way of being and seeing.


Yes, I had moments that I contemplated if I'd ever live to see my first grandchild born. I now have five grandchildren!

Deep down -- I KNEW I could do it! Still, there are times I am sent reeling, as I dare to schedule an appointment six months in advance. Then I regain control of my fear-riddled thoughts. And I adamantly refuse to allow such terrifying concepts to manipulate me and play games with the quality of my life. I plant myself firmly in The Now. I will not forfeit a single day to wallowing in self-pity. I believed all along that I was lucky. It could have been so much worse! Each day, and especially in shaky moments, I command my body to remain STABLE. To HEAL. And, BE WELL. I KNOW my body hears everything I think, or whisper. I envision myself far into the future, in vivid detail. I can feel the joy, surrounded by my family and Universal love (which we each have the opportunity to open to). Who knew??

As I watched my first baby granddaughter I also saw herstanding on the dance floor at her Bat Mitzvah (at the age of 13). We are all standing, applauding and clapping to the music. I will be there. That time has come and I now plan on being at her wedding one day. She is now 20 years old!


Being diagnosed with fourth stage breast cancer is daunting, I admit. How many stages are there?, friends asked. At first, I could not speak. There are only 4 stages. There is no 5th stage. Death comes after stage 4. Still, I learned to live in joy despite my poor prognosis and its ominous threats to my well-being. Less than a 15% chance of surviving 5 years, I read. I immediately vowed to be among the Survivors with each day. I live with the serenity that comes with the certain KNOWING that I am personally participating in healing my body and keeping every malignant cell that might be thinking about striking stunned into submission. With each day, one day at a time, I call my desired destiny to me. Others were amazed by what they called my courage. I felt it was my stubborn, unconquerable determination and faith, my clear Expectation and Intention that carried me through the fear. It is living AS IF my desired destiny has been ordained and I await it's arrival..

I am a being of energy. I stand as a power station emitting specific signals that are responded to, by others and by the Universe. I do not submit to having toxic poisons infused into my body. Chemotherapy has been my ALLY in my fight for Life! The toxicity of negativity is forbidden. It, along with the expertise of my doctors and surgeons (my collected *team* of second and third and fourth opinions), my attorney husband’s increased education in the study of breast cancer and all its potential magic bullets, and my attitude, my intentionally indoctrinated thinking and visualizations, my moments of tranquil meditation and all day commands from my mind to my body -- would all come together and vanquish the foe! We were unstoppable.


Now 22 years later, I still live consciously OPEN. My heart is filled with something that I can only describe as pure Universal Love. I have learned to become a vessel for love. The Universe is infinitely steeped in this divine energy. I carry it wherever I go. I offer it to all I encounter readily. I hug more, longer and tighter, with all my Soul. I seek to understand more. I am gentler, kinder, more giving, more compassionate. I say -- I love you -- more often. And I hear it said to me more frequently than ever before (even from relative strangers.) It just seems to evolve in reaction to my energy.

I learned to connect with my Spirit, to consciously align myself with the Essence of who I truly am. I now recognize that we are each a Soul. A Spiritual Being, with a mind, that inhabits a body, having a human experience. We are each so much more than we ever thought we were. We are each so much more powerful than we know. I am told that my face reflects the radiance of my Spirit, as people stare at me enviously. How do I get to be you? I want that. I know what they want is to find their True Selves. I feel joyful despite, and because of, all the unwanted realities of my life. They have enriched and enlightened me, and catapulted me to spectacular awakenings that were simply unattainable before breast cancer.


I have lived through 8 months of Adriamycin and CMF, including the nasty side effects during and long after. I have lived through nine months of Taxotere and the horrors that my body endured as my every cancer cell died, and the years of after effects. I’ve been bald twice, for an overall plucked chicken look that lasted several years of my life. My husband would tell me that I was perfect. That I never looked more beautiful (tram flap reconstructed breast and all). He said this with tears in his eyes and a quivering voice, from the deepest part of him.

I wasn’t a candidate for implants due to the large size of my tumor and the need to remove all the skin that surrounded my breast. I have been on Herceptin since 1998. Weekly from ’98 to ’01 and now, and still, every three weeks. I will remain with the program, keeping all metastases at bay, forever… Facing the very real possibility of your own death strengthens you in amazing ways.‘”THERE ARE TWO WAYS TO LIVE YOUR LIFE. ONE IS AS THOUGH NOTHING IS A MIRACLE. THE OTHER IS AS THOUGH EVERYTHING IS A MIRACLE.” (Albert Einstein) I remain *stable*, NED (no evidence of disease), blissful and serene, marveling at Life.

At this writing, in 2017, I am elated to share that after 10 years of Herceptin, I have been off of all treatment since 2008. I remain STABLE.

I keep constant vigilance without obsessing, a neat trick indeed. I monitor my thoughts daily. Survivors must remain on surveillance at all times, overseeing all body parts, partaking in regular CT scans, transvaginal pelvic sonograms, ECHO cardiograms, blood tests, bone density tests, colonoscopies, brain MRIs, breast surgeon exams, oncological exams and of course monthly self breast exams, yearly mammographies, annual PAP/HPV tests and *usual* checkups for *regular* people. This is all part of the life of a Survivor. I choose to view these necessities as luxuries provided by advanced technology. When the Ifs rise up in the middle of LIFE, detecting abnormalities early on can be life-saving. I am grateful for my many blessings and for the gift of each awesome day. EVERYTHING IS MIRACULOUS I have decided. I express my appreciation by going out of my way to counsel and comfort others, sharing my experience and what I’ve learned in becoming a professional patient. I do so with all my heart. I KNOW that what I give away will return to me tenfold, in accordance with Universal Laws.


If one person has survived your particular kind of cancer – YOU too can be a Survivor! Every thought is like a prayer. Every prayer is a potential miracle. You are a potential miracle. Once you align yourself with the True You, you become much like a holy spark, empowered beyond your wildest dreams! MAY YOU BE A BEAUTIFUL MIRACLE COME TRUE…


Andi
Andrea Barnett Budin