The gift of grace can be found in the unlikeliest of places.
Patty Balquiedra has found much of it on the social networking site Twitter. Recently diagnosed with Stage 2-A breast cancer and about to begin her chemotherapy, she has found comfort in the love of family and friends—online and offline—as she bravely shares with the world her brave trek into the trenches that many women dread taking.
Over breakfast one morning, Patty says that she has a very strong family history of breast cancer. “Three aunts on my mom’s side had it but they are all alive to this day.” And yet, annual mammograms were not a part of her yearly checkup. “I took it for granted,” she tells me, “which really should not be the case, considering my history.”
On Aug. 13, three months after her father Lito passed away, she felt a huge lump on her left breast. “I don’t believe in wasting time so I faced this immediately,” she said. On the same day, she went to her obstetrician Dr. Angela Aguilar, who initially said that the lump could be a result of her emotional trauma. However, when Dr. Aguilar felt it, she immediately said that a biopsy was needed. She was referred to Dr. Aldine Basa who said the same thing before palpating the lump. “Let’s order an ultrasound,” Dr. Basa said as soon as she felt the lump.
By Aug. 16, Patty got the results: “Highly suspicious of malignancy.” The next day, Patty was on the operating table, and less than a week later the findings were that she had invasive ductal carcinoma.
“From there, Dr. Basa gave me two weeks to discern, talk to my family, seek a second opinion and explore other options. [I had to] decide whether or not I would have the reconstructive surgery at the same time as the mastectomy.”
Two weeks later, on Sept. 12, Patty was again in the operating room for an eight-hour surgery. “The doctor asked us to pray specifically for two things: that the results would be ER-PR positive and HER negative. To be ER-PR would be the better outcome, so this is what we all were praying for.”
Two weeks later, those were the exact results she got. “Other than seeing the scars and stitches, I don’t really feel sick and I don’t feel the cancer at all.”
A week and a half away from beginning chemotherapy, which Patty likes to refer as “mop-up operations” she remains very positive, happy and light. “A lot of people see chemo as something dreadful but I choose not to. I cannot make it my enemy, it has to be my friend.” To prepare for her hair falling out, Patty already chopped off 12 inches off her long hair. “When it starts to fall off, that’s when I’ll shave it,” she says with a smile.
The hardest hurdle she has had was telling her two daughters. “That was the most difficult part because I was thinking about them all this time. I really prayed so hard before talking to my kids. It’s grace that they have both accepted it bravely as well.”
It also helps that Patty’s partner and her entire family are very supportive of the journey she is about to take. “Except for one time when he could not take off from work, Neil has been with me every step of the way,” she says.
Patty, however, knows that much of the success of her journey will begin with her. Her happy nature is something her doctors say works in her favor. “The patient has such a huge responsibility, so I always pray for that. As soon as I was diagnosed, that is what I prayed for—that I would be given the grace to see this through and that my spirit would always be replenished. I prayed to be able to accept all things and for the strength to go through whatever, then of course, I continue to pray for healing.”
Patty’s sense of humor and strong faith carried her through. She shares a few practical and funny tips on “things you don’t say to a breast cancer patient” or when you think about it, any cancer patient for that matter.
One, don’t ever say, “That’s so scary!” Patty smiles and says, “Tell me something I don’t know because when you’re a cancer patient, you know that already!” Second, she advises people not to give comfort and bad news in the same breath. “You tell me you’re praying for me and that you are so worried, that you are sure God will heal and then end it by saying ‘because it’s the same thing my tita had and she died…’ Parang mali ’di ba?”
Third, misery doesn’t love company. “Please be careful about the stories you share. The intent may be good but sometimes, instead of uplifting the patient, you depress him or her instead.” Fourth: Watch your words. “We heard the bad/sad news.” Patty says that one must never assume that it is bad or sad news. “I never looked at my cancer as bad because I’ve opted to find all the moments of grace in it. So unless you are talking to a family member, and not the patient herself, refrain from using inappropriate adjectives.”
Lastly, Patty says that comfort expressed in person is always the best. Although posting on Twitter or Facebook is fine, nothing beats reaching out to your friend. “Taking time out nowadays is so valuable and very much appreciated.” However, if you feel unsure of what you will say initially, then a heartfelt, private message to that person will suffice for now. The important thing is to reach out.
On this new journey, Patty considers everything to be all grace. She shares this new chapter of her life with similar co-travelers in a blog called “Grace Anatomy: My journey through breast cancer” that is written with honesty and good humor. We wish Patty and everyone else on the journey to healing only faith, positivity and light.
To join Patty on her journey, please visit www.graceandanatomy.blogspot.com. Follow the author on Twitter @cathybabao or on her blog www.storiesbykate.wordpress.com