One Year Later – I Finally Pressed Play
What do you do with a memory you can barely remember… but will never forget?
Insights for Empowerment
I can hardly remember the day I heard the full weight of my diagnosis. Not because it didn’t matter, but because the moment was too much to hold.
The doctor’s voice was clear, compassionate, and informative. But my mind? My mind was somewhere between disbelief and numbness. I was sitting in that room, but it felt like I was floating above it…watching someone else’s life unfold.
I had just found out that I had breast cancer. Not in one breast, but both.
A double blow.
A double battle.
It had only been a week or two since I first heard the words. Everything was moving fast, and yet time felt frozen. I asked my son to record the consultation, because deep down, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it all in.
And I was right.
I never listened to that recording… until now.
One year later, I finally pressed play.
As the audio began, so did the tears. I wasn’t just listening to information…I was reliving a moment that cracked me open and showed me just how strong love can be.
Because I wasn’t alone that day.
I was surrounded by my husband, my son, my mother, my sister, and one of my closest girlfriends, my angels. Each of them showed up without hesitation. They didn’t have all the answers, but they were present. They were there.
That presence was louder than the diagnosis.
It held me up before I even realized I was falling.
The doctor explained that it was caught early. That the tumor biology was favorable. That this was something treatable. Curable.
But none of that softened the initial blow.
Because even when the news comes with hope, the word cancer still echoes in your soul.
Conclusion
As I listened to the recording a year later, something beautiful happened.
I remembered how afraid I was…
But I also remembered how held I was.
I remembered the sound of my husband’s and son’s voice asking the right questions.
I remembered the way the nurses gently squeezed my hand.
I remembered the silent prayers I could feel my mother whispering beside me.
I remembered the love in my sister’s eyes, and the way my girlfriend looked at me like,
“We’ve got this.”
And we did.
We still do.
This journey isn’t just about healing my body, it’s about honoring what carried me through: love, community, faith, and the power of not facing things alone.
Encouraging Nuggets
If you’re going through something too heavy to carry alone, record it. Not just for information, but for the healing that may come later.
Don’t minimize early detection. It saved my life. Advocate for your body. Pay attention to the signs.
If someone you love is facing cancer, don’t worry about the perfect words. Just be there. Your presence matters more than you know.
Food for Thought:
What’s something you haven’t been ready to “press play” on yet?
Who would be in the room with you during your hardest moment?
How do you show up for yourself, and for others, when fear tries to take over?
With love and strength,
Deb Davis
“Empowering and encouraging others, one story at a time”.
Wow!