Back to the Stage

Before cancer entered my life, I was always moving.

I’m a wife, mother of five, grandmother to an amazing grandson who calls me Gam Gam, and someone who has never been very good at sitting still. After spending years in education as a SOL Remedial Specialist and working in Special Education, I eventually became an empty nester and returned to a lifelong passion: performing.

I was beginning to transition from community theatre to the professional stage. I co-hosted a movie review show called The Lovey’s and a book club program called Wine, Books and Friends in PJs on Comcast. I served on the Board of Directors for The Theatre Lab in Washington, D.C., sang in my church’s women’s choir, exercised five to six days a week, and somehow still managed to be on call for my family.

I was busy. Happy. Healthy.

At least, that’s what I thought.

The Look That Told Me Something Was Wrong

I felt completely fine when I went in for my mammogram. In fact, I had missed several years of routine screening because of COVID and life getting in the way. I wasn’t worried. I had no symptoms and no indication that anything was wrong. Then I saw the look on the mammography technician’s face. A little later, I saw the same look on the doctor’s face. I knew something wasn’t right. The waiting that followed was one of the hardest parts. Waiting for biopsy results felt endless.

My gynecologist, Dr. Hashemi, called while I was driving to go shopping for some cute clothes. I pulled over before answering. She wanted me to come in for my results, but I insisted she tell me over the phone.

The answer was simple. I had cancer.

One Day to Cry, Then It Was Time to Fight

I turned the car around and drove home.

I told my husband first. Later that same day, during a planned dinner with my mother, sister, and daughters, I shared the news with them too. I called my oldest daughter. I called my son. I called my sisters-in-law.

Then I went to bed.

I cried. I prayed. I asked God for guidance.

And after one day, I got up and decided it was time to fight.

I created a Fight Playlist on Spotify, and that became my soundtrack moving forward.

Strength through Faith, Family, and Love

My faith was my foundation throughout this journey.

I already had a strong prayer life before cancer, but this experience deepened it in ways I never imagined. There were difficult days, frightening days, and uncertain days, but I always felt God carrying me through them.

My family carried me too.

Someone accompanied me to every appointment. Having another set of ears was invaluable because there were times when the amount of information felt overwhelming. Some days I felt like I was listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher—just a series of whomps and noises that were impossible to process.

My husband, sister, children, and mother helped keep track of everything. Together, we listened, took notes, asked questions, and made decisions.

They also showed up in beautiful ways.

My husband shaved my head when my hair began falling out.

My daughter surprised me by shaving off her beautiful sister-locks.

My family held regular Zoom check-ins, sent care packages, took me to appointments, prayed with me, and loved me exactly as I was.

They reminded me, over and over, that I was still beautiful.

Unexpected Moments of Grace

Some of the most meaningful moments came from people I didn’t know.

While out to dinner with family, a woman approached me and said she had been watching me all evening. She told me I was beautiful, radiant, and that she could see God all over me.

Another woman at the clinic looked at her friend and said she wanted my joy.

Those moments stayed with me.

After chemotherapy ended and before surgery, my family planned a brunch celebration. Friends and relatives gathered to share memories and kind words. My mother spoke from the heart and had everyone in tears.

It was one of the most beautiful days of my life.

Finding a Team That Felt Like Family

From the beginning, I felt surrounded by extraordinary medical professionals.

Dr. Hashemi immediately connected me with Dr. Feldman at Virginia Cancer Specialists. Dr. Feldman is a brilliant, straight-shooting surgeon with a warm and caring bedside manner. Her nurse coordinator, Sarah, became an invaluable source of support. During a time when I felt like I was walking through a fog, Sarah handled the appointments and details so I could focus on healing.

Dr. Feldman then connected me with Dr. Singh. The moment Dr. Singh walked into the room, I felt at ease. Her warm smile, incredible knowledge, and yes, her hugs, made all the difference.

At Virginia Cancer Specialists, I was never just a body in the office. I felt seen. I felt heard. I felt included. Every question was answered. Every concern was addressed. Every decision was made with me, not for me.

That feeling wasn’t limited to my doctors.

I grew very fond of my Virginia Cancer Specialists family. From the moment I walked through the door, I was met with kindness, compassion, and genuine care. Everyone, from the receptionists, Ronna and Rhea, to Maria in scheduling, Frannie in benefits, nurse coordinators Amrita and Harlene, lab technicians Ronald and Tanya, and the nursing team of Massey, Romi, Michelle, Gracely, Melissa, and Jay, made a lasting impact on my experience.  They were warm, professional, quick with a laugh, a listening ear, or a hug when I needed one. Their compassion and dedication made a difficult journey a little easier, and I will always be grateful for the care they provided.

They didn’t just provide care. They became family.

A Different Perspective

Cancer changed me.

It strengthened my faith. It strengthened my gratitude. It taught me to celebrate even the smallest victories.

Each day, I made a habit of writing down three things I was thankful for.

Some days those blessings were big. 

Other days they were simply opening my eyes in the morning, taking a shower, keeping food down, hearing a loved one laugh, or receiving a hug from my husband or grandson.

When you’re faced with a diagnosis like cancer, you learn that gratitude isn’t reserved for life’s biggest moments. It lives in the small ones too.

Looking Ahead

Today, I’m excited about getting back to the stage, traveling the world, serving again on The Theatre Lab Board of Directors, and hosting Gam Gam Camp for my grandson.

Most of all, I want to spend as much time as possible with the people I love.

Cancer taught me many things, but perhaps the most important is this: Joy is a choice.

There will always be challenges. There will always be uncertainty. But there is also gratitude, faith, laughter, family, and hope.

I made it through cancer.

Nothing can hold me back now. Full steam ahead.