Mea Ola, My Life
- Surviving Breast Cancer
- 9 hours ago
- 2 min read
By Jayshree Mallaya COMMUNITY | POETRY
I received this news five weeks ago.
It’s no longer a memory,
it’s a lived reality.
My life changed,
but I’m still the same.
I have breast cancer,
but cancer is not my name.
I’m dealing with something
that feels alien inside of me,
something that became
part of my reality.
From outside looking in,
it looks like I’m fine.
From inside looking out,
I know I will be fine.
I’m not questioning,
why did this happen to me?
There’s no family history,
so how can this be?
Breast cancer.
Yes,
it happened to me.
I’m learning to listen
to my body differently.
To understand what it needs
and what it’s trying
to tell me.
There are questions
between appointments.
Things I remember afterwards.
Things I wish I had asked.
Things that made sense
when the doctor explained them,
but were harder to remember
when I got home.
There are moments of fear.
And moments of clarity.
But through all of this,
I am still me.
Still a woman.
Still a partner,
sister,
friend.
Still dreaming.
Still building.
Still believing
this isn’t where my story ends.
Somewhere between
the appointments,
the questions,
the things I remember
and the things I forget,
I started thinking,
there must be a way
to hold onto some of this.
A way to remember.
A way to stay connected.
To my care.
To the people caring for me.
To the people walking this journey with me.
And to myself.
That thought became
Mea Ola.
My Life.
A companion that’s growing
from what I’m living
and learning every day.
Because breast cancer
happened to me.
But my life
still belongs to me.
And if what I’m learning
can help another woman
understand a little more,
remember a little more,
or feel a little less alone,
then something good
can come from what happened to me.
Mea Ola.
My Life.
