CANCER JOURNEY - READ BELOW **** MARCH 7th 2024 - This day was my first visit to the ER. It was the day where I first heard those words: "You may have cancer." I took myself to the emergency room after overdosing on iron pills. I had been bleeding more than usual for over six weeks, passing clots, and in a moment of desperation, I took four iron pills in a span of just four hours. I felt sick immediately. Did you know you could overdose on iron pills? Crazy Huh. I asked the doctor for something to stop the bleeding, but she told me I needed to see an OBGYN. The thing is, I didn’t have one. I hadn’t seen one since I gave birth to my son over 30 years ago. She insisted I needed to make that appointment, refusing to give me anything to ease the bleeding. That’s when it hit me—the reality of the situation, the uncertainty, the fear. The denial set in quickly.

March 8th 2024 - I left the hospital around 3 a.m., feeling numb. That morning, I managed to get an appointment with an OBGYN. Luckey for me, it was for later that day. When I saw doctor, she seemed frustrated with me, saying I should be seeing an OBGYN at least once a year. I told her I didn’t know that, and I’d pass along the message, but she didn’t seem amused. I informed her that my primary care physician handled all the necessary gynecological examinations during my routine visits. She scheduled me for a biopsy, but as I was leaving, she said something that still haunts me: "I don’t like the looks of this." Those words felt like a weight on my chest, and I left her office feeling unsure of what was coming next. I got into my car and the denial set in again.

March 28th 2024 - Three weeks later, I had my vaginal biopsy. I can’t even bring myself to describe it. If you really want to know, you’ll have to message me. But I’ll never forget the doctor’s face, the way her voice softened said, “I don’t like the looks of this.” My heart just… sank. I got into my car and the denial set in again.

APRIL 9TH, 2024 - I had a full CT scan in a cold, ugly office in Maywood. The medicine I had to drink before was awful—I could barely get it down. But honestly, I didn’t even want to know the results. Truth was, I was still bleeding. The pills I got on 3/8 helped but not enough. I could still feel the blood clots leaving my body, and every time, it reminded me that something was wrong. Went through the big scan machine and knew something was really, really wrong. I just wanted to pretend everything was fine because I had a trip to Mexico coming up. They did what needed to be done and I got into my car and the denial set in again.

APRIL 25th 2024 - I came back from Quintana Roo on the 23rd and had my results appointment early on the 25th. This is the day I got my results in person. Went to my appointment and dreaded to hear the results. The doctor came in and did not beat around the bush. She said I had Endometrial Uterine Cancer. I was numb, didn't react, she kept talking but I wasn't listening. I nodded my head and just stared at her. She stated I was taking it well. i told her “You’re telling me I’m going to be OK after they take out my uterus. My mom had breast cancer 12 years ago. My sister had thyroid cancer 7 years ago. They are both alive. The treatments are way more advance now. Plus you’re saying this is going to be it because it is stage 1 cancer. They scheduled me for a full hysterectomy for May 22nd . As I heard the date, I got nervous but I got in my car and the denial set in again.

MAY 18th 2024 - My cousin, who is also facing pancreatic cancer, told me about Saint Peregrine, the patron saint of those with cancer. We visited the Saint Peregrine Chapel in San Juan Capistrano and spent the day there. Tía Rosa led us in a rosary, and we prayed to the Holy Trinity. It was peaceful and deeply spiritual—a truly special place. I left feeling calm, reassured, and hopeful, even though some denial still lingered. Surgery didn’t seem such a bad option. Once we left home. Obviously, the denial set in again.

MAY 22nd, 2024

SURGERY DAY!!! I had a full hysterectomy done because my uterus lining was 80% full of cancer. It was rough, painful and long but it needed to be done. As I always told people, I wasn't using it so it was closed. Message or call me and I can tell you all the details. After surgery, I only needed to undergo radiation treatment.

JUNE - JULY 2024 RADIATION TREATMENTS

They told me the cancer was at stage 1, so I tried to stay hopeful. They scheduled me for 3 radiation treatments directly into my cervix. The pain... it was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. But each session was just 20 minutes, so I forced myself to get through it. All seemed hopeful.

AUGUST 23RD, 2024 - they said I was cleared. Cancer-free. I wanted to believe it. OBGYN doctor said they'd see me in three months. I clung to that hope and left her office. I had no cancer left in my uterus or cervix. For the first time in a long while, I let myself breathe.

AUGUST 30TH, 2024 - Just a week later... I was on my way to my sister’s, and I started with chills. I thought maybe I had Covid. I didn’t want to ruin her day since she was throwing a little party for my niece—so I took something and tried to sleep in my car. But I woke up burning up. My sister said my fever hit 105. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I drove myself to the hospital. I shouldn’t have. By the time I got there, they wouldn't let me leave. My oxygen was dangerously low, only 90, Fever 102 and my blood pressure was through the roof. I was scared but still didn’t understand what was coming. They did scans. And then they told me. The cancer... it wasn’t gone. It had jumped and spread to my lungs. Everything they said before—being cleared, being cancer-free—meant nothing. It’s back. And now, it’s worse.

SEPTEMBER 3, 2024 - After 4 days, I left the hospital with an oxygen machine I had to wear around the clock—tied to the wire and stuck at home again. Had to wait for approvals to do Chemotherapy.

Doctors said 6 sessions to start.

OCTOBER 11, 2024 -I began chemo and it was an incredibly frightening experience. I’m thankful my son was there to take me and my oxygen tanks. It felt so overwhelming. Mom and I spoke about her journey with cancer, so I had some idea of what to expect. Even though it’s been 13 years since she went through it, the fear still lingers for all of us. Nothing can really prepare you for how heavy it feels.

JANUARY 30, 2025 - This was

TODAY, I'm still taking cancer medicine every three weeks. My sessions are just 1 hour long now. Maybe after November doctors have good news for me.

Thank you for reading this far…I will write more of my story later. See you in August!