Introducing…The Reconstructionist

We’ve launched our YouTube Channel.  Check us out at http://www.youtube.com/user/breastcancrcm4t

On the first day of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month 2013, I want to talk about telling our stories.  I recently watched Venus and Serena, a documentary about, arguably, the most competitive and highest achieving tennis players in history.  The documentary focuses on 2011, but weaves in many other years from the sister’s childhood to their many championship wins into adulthood.  What was particularly profound to me was their resilience – from injury, defeat and illness.  Their tenacity.

I watched the story with pride and in awe of what these two beautiful, young African-American women have accomplished at a young age.  But, I also watched their honesty and vulnerability, them allowing cameras to follow them to some private spaces – hospitals and doctor’s offices – as their shared their thoughts about winning, losing, illness and rebuilding.  It took me back to many conversations that I’ve had with my husband, sister and friends about my survival.  For me, my story seems like a no brainer – do everything you can to survive and have a great quality of life.  But, to my family and friends, they often remark in awe about my journey from breast cancer diagnosis to treatment and survival.  And, when I think about many events I’ve attended with and conversations I’ve had with survivors, I’m always in awe of and inspired by their triumph and survival.  I’m encouraged and often feed off of their energy, especially when I’m facing challenging times.

So, as Venus and Serena shared their stories of overcoming sexism, racism, adversity and illness, it resonated with me.  As a triple negative breast cancer survivor, I know a bit about overcoming.  I know how important it is to hear stories of triumph, especially survival.  But, the world will only hear the stories if we, as survivors, tell them.

I’ve been at different points along my journey.  And, I’ve seen so much more in my own family as a fifth generation breast cancer patient surrounded by countless relatives who’ve battled cancer.  But, I’ve heard and witnessed stories of fortitude and such incredible strength (including those of my late mother and late aunt) that encouraged me during my darkest, most hopeless moments.  And, I’ve also had the blessing of having others share with me their being inspired by my survival.

Our stories of triumph, especially survival – we must share them.  We cannot deny the power of our survival and the determination, commitment, prayers and even obstacles that guided our survival.  Thank you Venus and Serena for what you’ve done for the sport of tennis, especially for females and African-Americans.  You are Champions.  Thank you for further inspiring the champion in me.

I am a champion – a breast cancer survivor of almost five years.  I’m grateful that I’ve lived to tell my story.  For all of my survivor sisters, please tell yours.  There’s undeniable power and strength in our stories.  Most of all, our stories can provide that mustard seed of faith that inspires another.  So, with the gift of having more breath in our bodies, let’s use it to give someone else a gift – the gift of hope and inspiration.

Melanie A. Nix – Always striving to color outside of the lines when defining my new normal

October 1, 2013

#breastcancer #breastcancersurvivor #triplenegativebreastcancer #breastcancerawarenessmonth #VenusWilliams #SerenaWilliams #tennis #champion #survivor

The picture of the running shoes and online game of solitaire are two things that help me maintain a steady heartbeat. The running shoes for my 3x–4x weekly jog to keep exercise as a priority in my life and help reduce stress and the online game — a mindless, harmless pastime – that takes me away from the stress of the day to maintain calm. On Valentine’s Day, especially, we need to focus on matters of our own heart — literally.

On Valentine’s Day and always I wish you health, happiness and peace.

Always striving to color outside of the lines when defining my new normal.

On a Christmas Eve airplane flight, I was very concerned as we left Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport on a wintry day with an oncoming storm. During the record breaking winter, storms were blanketing much of the United States. A cool, grey and rainy day, with declining temperatures, I was more than anxious as we prepared for takeoff.

We experienced some turbulence as the flight began its ascent and I looked out of my window onto the grey ugliness. As we began to climb, it didn’t take long for the flight to become smooth and for us to break through the clouds. As we broke through the clouds, I saw a beautiful site of a sea of celestial clouds accented by big beaming rays of sun. In just a few minutes, we had moved away from the winter storm into a slice of heaven.

I was reminded of the Christmas Eve trip this past weekend when I was on another flight and witnessed another beautiful sea of clouds. It made me think of the lessons I learned just a month earlier:

1. If you keep climbing, you can put a lot of distance between you and the storm
2. It’s okay to be nervous and anxious, but keep climbing
3. Breakthroughs can happen quickly – it can be a short distance and a short time period between doom and gloom and majesty
4. Turbulence and discomfort are often harbingers of positive change
5. Sometimes we need to rely on our angels to pull us up and out of “hell” and into heaven. This day it was the pilots and flight attendants. For me, it’s my close family and dearest friends.

I believe that the beauty that transcends all of the gloom is God’s reward for having the courage to climb. KEEP CLIMBING!

Always striving to color outside of the lines when defining my new normal

Today, I was at my six year old’s soccer game speaking with one of the other soccer moms. During a break, she leaned over and whispered to me, “I got my first mammogram this week. I know it’s breast cancer awareness month and I thought it was a good time to get my mammogram.” I was glad that she shared her information with me, but more elated by her enthusiasm.

It was refreshing to know that she is excited to take charge of her health. I believe she is in her 40s and obviously has been impacted by the national breast cancer awareness month campaigns and messages she has heard about breast health. And, I think she felt comfortable sharing with me because she knows that I’m a young breast cancer survivor. As we left the game, I told her that I know that she might be anxious until she receives her results but that I would keep her in my thoughts for a mammogram that indicates normal, healthy breasts.

So why and I excited and why do we know it’s important to get mammograms? It’s not like #voting; we don’t get an “I voted” sticker to wear to show our civic responsibility and pride. It’s not like going to the pediatrician’s office for the first time; we don’t get a lollipop or other treat to reinforce a focus on living a healthy life and ensuring excitement to return for future appointments. For many, a mammogram is an uncomfortable exam that can be preceded by anxiety and fear. But for all of the potential emotions and feelings leading up to and immediately following a mammogram and for the seemingly absent instant gratification, there are many great benefits from getting your first mammogram and continuing to get mammograms.

1. Your first mammogram serves as a baseline for doctors to use in detecting abnormalities and as a basis for determining any future breast changes as you continue to get mammograms.
2. A mammogram can be used as a tool to detect breast cancer early, earlier than can be detected through a physical exam. EARLY DETECTION CAN SAVE YOUR LIFE.
3. Your family, friends and loved ones will be grateful to you for taking charge of your health; making yourself a priority. You can only be good for others if you are good to yourself!

So, to my soccer mom friend and to all of the women who have decided to get your first mammogram, I applaud you. Continue to make yourself a priority and take charge of your health. Keep getting your mammograms. I wish you continued good health and a great life.

Mother’s Day makes me ponder all the things that mothers do that makes them deserving of their own day of celebration and honor. This year, the thing that makes me deserving and honorable, the best thing I ever did for my children was battle and survive Triple Negative Breast Cancer, one of the most aggressive and recurring sub-types of breast cancer. When I was diagnosed at 38, my son was 4 and my daughter was 19 months. This diagnosis forced me to reexamine my definition of motherhood and my role as a mother.

18 months later, this is my first Mother’s Day post diagnosis that I’m not planning for chemo on Tuesday or scheduling a pre-operative physical for my next surgery. I’m not struggling to walk a city block or throw a ball with my kids. I’m not (generally) too exhausted to read a book, watch a movie or play a board game with my kids in the evenings after work. And, I can peel an orange for their snack. I can do these and many things that were daunting and impossible tasks, on Mother’s Day last year, while I was battling cancer, on chemo and recovering from multiple surgeries.

One of the worst times of my life, a sometimes helpless and lonely time, was a time that I abandoned my quasi-normal routine and huddled with my medical team to give myself some good odds for a good quality of life and some more Mother’s Days with my children and my husband. But, it also made me refocus my hopes for motherhood, the ways I want to challenge, encourage and support my kids – being their role model – the legacy I want to leave for them. And, I want to be sure that I leave an indelible imprint on their hearts and their souls.

What’s the best way to do this? There have been times when I got caught up in the “supermom” hype, questioning and second-guessing every decision that didn’t conform to the socially and politically “acceptable” norms. Reading any number of published articles on motherhood can only compound this with the unrealistic picture of the perfect PTA mother, whose perfectly shaped brownies greet the breastfed kids upon their arrival from school; whose kids always have matching socks, lunch with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into perfect geometric, or better, animal shapes; who can play the piano, violin, harp; speak English, French and Spanish (sign language too); are asleep in their own bed at 7:30pm every night; can tell time on a non-digital watch and head their own Political Action Committee, all by the age of 4. Any deviation can prompt self doubt and questioning “am I a good mother”. Ahhhh, the pressure.

But, I can say unequivocally that I’m a great mom who has given her children a great gift, the gift of my time. Time to watch my son learn how to read. Time to listen to my daughter sing throughout the house. Time to walk beside them as they ride their bikes to the playground near our home. Time to hold their hands when they are frightened in a new environment. Time to be a guide and help them learn how to play nicely in the sandbox. Time to discipline when they blatantly do wrong. Time to kiss the boo-boo when they fall. Time to hug when they are disappointed. Time to protect them, time to expose them to new things, time to love them unconditionally every second, every minute, every hour of every day. Time to watch them blossom in God’s garden and be proud.

Their socks may not always match, they may never master multiple languages, instruments or get to every soccer, basketball or swim practice on time and with the right equipment. I surely don’t meet the standard of the archetypal supermom, but I am super and I am mom. My precious son and daughter have told me so and they are arguably the only ones who should be judging.

As mothers we are all, at one time or another, battling and surviving something. It may be the demanding job that didn’t deliver the work life balance it promised, but the paycheck keeps the family afloat in a depressed economy. It may be the huge socio-economic disparity that distances you from the other families at your child’s school, but the school provides them with an enriching academic and social environment. It may be a chronic ailment that keeps you from attending every recital, but allows you to be a great one-on-one coach at home. There are many choices, often difficult, hand wringing choices that we make to provide what we have determined is the best for our children. At one point or another, we may all be conflicted, concerned, unsure and scared.

And, especially if you find yourself in the unenviable situation of being a mom battling breast cancer. Be proud of yourself for having the courage (no matter how fleeting) to battle and the capacity to nurture your children no matter how limited your physical strength. Fight for yourself. Fight for your children. If their normal changes, let them show you how resilient and adaptable they can be.

Before me, my mother battled breast cancer for most of my childhood. I don’t resent her because I couldn’t go to a popular summer camp that she had planned for me after third grade, but I hold priceless memories of that summer and the time I had spending it with my mother, sister, grandmother, cousins, aunts and uncles that summer after her first mastectomy. I didn’t fall behind in elementary school because chemo drained my mother’s energy and she was too tired to check my homework every night. I did well in school and went on to get two degrees. I don’t remember mommy making me geometric shaped sandwiches or registering me for every extracurricular activity. But, I do remember her patience as I bounced from piano to flute and back to piano, never becoming truly great at either one. I remember her unconditional support, her applause and smiles, words of praise after my recitals. I remember her laughter and the comfort of her hugs. I remember her handwriting on encouraging notes. I remember her love. I remember that the best gift she ever gave me was her fighting spirit. She epitomized the definition of supermom, a real supermom, they way I’m patterning myself now.

I have a strong family history of breast cancer and death from the disease before age 50. I am in remission. I have no idea what my journey holds, but I pray that I defy my family’s odds. A lot of times, my faith is shaky and I don’t know what to hold on to. But, I need just reach out and hold onto my babies and get lost in their embrace to get some grounding. As time passes, I may not remember all the words on a mother’s day card they give me, but I’ll always remember the pedestal that they place me on. I’ll always be supermom to them and any moment I have with them, every moment I have with them, is my Mother’s Day gift.

So, on this second Sunday in May, 2010, write and live your own definition of super motherhood. It’s the best mother’s day gift that you can give yourself and your children. You earned it. You deserve it.

(Dedicated to my beautiful mom, an unassuming and humble pioneer who inspired me to walk my own path.)