How I tackled cancer like an RFP – the re-bid

Disclaimer * Warning* This article is purely based on my experience and does touch on mental health.

Being diagnosed with breast cancer in 2020 was a shock to me – but nothing prepared me for its return in 2022. And I’m going to be honest - I was not okay. It has taken a considerable amount of courage and digging really deep to push through this time.?I guess it all boils down to expectation and a few lightbulb moments– and I’d like to tell my story in the hope that it might help someone through a similar event. Again, because I’m a proposal manger – I relate everything to RFPs – and this was the re-bid.

The expectation

So, you’ve submitted your proposal and let’s pretend it was the biggest one you’ve ever worked on. Tireless hours, hundreds of people involved, high amounts of stress etc but you did it. You submitted probably the best proposal you’ve ever done. It was near flawless: persuasive, competitive, compelling. You somehow know that you’ve beaten the competition - and I felt the same.

I finished chemotherapy at the end of 2020 and finished up radiation treatment in February 2021. My scans and bloods in May 2021 were all clear. I was happy – but I didn’t expect anything else – I knew I had beaten this thing. I had put in the hours and hours of positive thinking, and I had tried so hard to be extra healthy and fit. I prayed and prayed some more. So, when I went for my yearly scans in May 2022 – I hardly gave it a second thought. I was the fittest and healthiest I’d ever been.

I basically skipped into the hospital for my follow up appointment with the surgeon. Look at me - all healthy - I never have to spend time in here again. I knew it was good news and I just wanted to get on with my day. You can understand my disbelief when she said – somethings changed from last time - I want to double check. She said?“It might be nothing - don’t think too far ahead. We will do a biopsy and confirm.” So immediately I thought – well its nothing. I stomped out the hospital in a huff – not looking forward to the biopsy (Which I may add – was absolutely horrendous). Still can’t look at a sandwich press without cringing… and those who have ever had a mammogram will understand – except imagine being stuck in there for 30 minutes or so whilst they stab needles in you - not nice. The screening places were so busy that they could only get me 4 weeks later for the biopsy. I still wasn’t that concerned as I was sure there was nothing to worry about.

Comprehending that there is no “end”

Just as with a re-bid – there’s a certain amount of disbelief when you hear the news, quickly followed by thoughts of – you have to be kidding – I don’t want to do that again! And knowing that you put every ounce of effort into trying to win the first time is concerning to you because you don’t have any more rabbits left in the hat to pull out.

In June my surgeon called me to say I had DCIS (breast cancer in the ducts). It had appeared on the left side. Thankfully at Stage 0. I was completely numb? What? I was as healthy as I’d ever been. I did everything – the surgery, the chemo, the radiation, the hormone blocking pills, the physio, the nutrition, and the exercise. For what? What does this mean? Apparently doing all this awful treatment reduces the risk. It does not get rid of it. Super! Why didn’t someone tell me this earlier, so I wasn’t in my ignorant little bubble? Why didn’t I inform myself so I could have been more prepared? Apparently, there is about a 6% change of cancer reappearing on the other side after treatment…. lucky me.

I told my supporters on social media and got a flurry of “Oh you’re so strong, you’re so brave, you’ve done this before – you can do it again!” Unlike the first time, the comments – as lovely as they were intended – really didn’t help me. Being strong doesn’t mean that you don’t want to vomit if you think too hard about it – and being brave doesn’t take away the fear.

That’s the problem with the second time around – I knew what I was in for. And it wasn’t nice. In my previous article I wrote?“Submission : I’m deadline-driven like all Proposal Managers. What is getting me through all this is that there is an end. All RFPs eventually get submitted no matter how challenging they are. Just as the surgery is completed, the physio done, the chemo is nearing an end, and the radiation will be over early next year.”

Have you any idea how hard it is to comprehend that there might not ever be an “end” to all this??I was reasonably okay for the first week.?I went for the surgery and that went okay. The pre-surgery preparation was another horrific thing to have to go through – google “hook wire mammogram” if you are brave. I have never been so keen to get into the theatre so they could knock me out. ?I spoke to my surgeon about genetic testing for the BRCA gene and I had that done.

Falling down the well of self-misery

After the first week of surgery, it hit me badly – I guess I had time to think, which was bad. I was totally miserable. I couldn’t stop thinking – why me? Why has this come back? ?Am I worth so little that the universe doesn’t want me on this planet anymore? And the worst was (especially for a proposal manager) that I was not in control?- and apparently never had been.

And I was angry at the world and angry at myself for being naive. I had just ?been promoted into a new role in my company, I had been on a great fitness streak and as feeling so good, and my weekend business (teaching art to children) was really taking off. It was as if the universe had said – “Hey I see things are finally falling into place for you… well, don’t get too comfortable!”

The worst part is that I really didn’t believe in myself anymore – and that’s a ?dangerous place to be in. I didn’t care anymore. I just didn’t see the point. I had done everything right and it hadn’t mattered. No matter what I did or didn’t do wasn’t going to change the outcome. Just as when you get to that point in a proposal when you have a rebid or and RFI changes to RFP – and you copy paste and think – that will do because you don’t have the time or energy to do it any better.

Well, that was me – I did the bare minimum like a little robot for my family’s sake. I didn’t care what I ate. I didn’t care what I looked like. I would put on my fake smile and exist for the day. Then I started the self-hate thing – why was I feeling this way – why was I so upset. I’m usually so positive – why can’t I be positive again? What is wrong with me? I should be able to handle this. What did I do to deserve this? (Thinks back 40 years on all the possible reasons). Stop being pathetic – there are so many people in this world much worse off than you etc etc.

Stop getting in my own way

A week and a bit after surgery I made a huge effort to go to a yoga class as I really missed the gym. I thought I’d take it easy and enjoy the meditation part and maybe it would help me to feel better. Well, I spent all of the meditation lying on my back with tears streaming down my face. In public! How embarrassing. But I couldn’t stop. I managed to pull myself together in time for the lights to come back on – as I never like creating a public scene and HATE people feeling sorry for me. As I drove home, all snivelly and red-eyed, I had this lightbulb moment – I don’t want to feel like this! I don’t want to feel nothing and not care about literally anything. I don’t like this feeling and it was scaring me how easy it was to just slip down this dark hole and keep on slipping.

And what have I done? I’ve ruined this whole beautiful day with these stupid negative thoughts. The only person who can change how I think, and feel is me. If I don’t even make it to 50 years old – I’m ruining the days that are left of my life. And we all have to die sometime, right? I might live another 30 years or another 3. And guess what – I probably won’t die of cancer – but fall off my horse or step on a venomous snake or something. We all have an expiration date – not just me – and this made me feel better. So, at that moment I stopped getting in my own way. ?I managed to push the negative thoughts as far away as I could and focused on each day as my best day.

Early August and I had a follow up appointment with the Surgeon. It was good news – I did not have the BRCA gene. I was so happy – at least my two daughters have been spared that part. She said that at the oncologists meeting, they discussed my case and it’s recommended that I do radiation. I wasn’t sure about the radiation – there’s a 4% of it coming back after radiation and being on my left side would be close to my heart. There’s a 1% chance if I have a mastectomy. So not that much difference. I did ask her if she was me – what should I do, and she said mastectomy because it was concerning that it had come back so soon. She was also concerned about the amount found during surgery that was not picked up on the mammogram and ultrasound.

Hmm – do I or don’t I? The indecisiveness was not helping my frame of mind. As a proposal manager – I like control. I like process and I like having a plan. This “plan” was all over the place. And how am I expected to make an informed decision when I don’t believe in myself as much as I used to? After speaking to all the specialists – oncologist, surgeon and radiation oncologist I made up my mind that I want these things gone – they are more trouble than they are worth.

So at the end of October (the nearest time that both the surgeon and plastic surgeon were available together) I had the double mastectomy. I’m not going to lie – it hurt – a lot. I did a 10 day stint in hospital, but I’m now 2 ? months post-surgery and starting to feel more “normal.” It will take around 4 – 6 months of bi-weekly appointments to get me “reconstructed” and hopefully after that I will be beach ready!

Letting go of the control

As a proposal manager- we like control. It’s been hard for me not being in control of my situation – or thinking I was but I wasn’t. So now I focus on what I can control. I can control the thoughts I think, I can control my happiness, I can control what I eat and the exercise I do, I can control how kind I am to people and how much effort I put into my work. The only limitations are the ones I set for myself. I now know that I cannot control everything – my mind and body definitely deceived me but I’m slowly starting to believe in myself again – but in a more realistic way. I set my expectations a lot lower now and try go with the flow. I know it will take a while but there’s no way I’m going to let cancer change who I am through this all! Its easy to let something like this make you bitter, angry and pessimistic -?but that’s not going to happen to me.

I will remain kind, I will remain positive, I will remain happy and I will be grateful for each and every day!

PS:

- Some people may wonder why I speak about my personal struggles publicly, but I believe that if it helps one person going through something similar - its worth it. You are not alone and you can do this!

- Cover photo is from the Blue Lagoon in Vanuatu - where we visited via an awesome Pacific Island cruise a few weeks ago. So grateful to be part of this beautiful world!