It was truly an honor to share my story as the Guest Speaker at this year’s Pink Bag Luncheon in Opelousas, Louisiana! What an incredible day meeting so many inspirational women, signing copies of my book, and being interviewed by the local news station! One of the most important messages from my speech was something I learned early on when I was diagnosed with breast cancer: A diagnosis is a very powerful thing, and it changes us forever. But, we don’t let it define us. We let it lift us!
Speech Transcript:
Good afternoon, everyone!
First, I want to thank y’all for being here and for inviting me to share my story. It’s truly an honor to be in a room filled with such a remarkable group of survivors, fighters, supporters, and caregivers. And of course, I want to give a special shout out to the medical professionals that dedicate their careers to cancer treatment and research. I WOULDN’T BE HERE WITHOUT YOU!
We have all been touched by cancer. Some of us, up close and personal. And our experiences have tested our strength and resilience. And yet, here we are!
For those of you who don’t know me…which is pretty much everyone in this room…my name is Michelle Sandlin, and I am a breast cancer survivor. And in the next few minutes, you’re going to learn a whole lot about me…and my breasts!
I am also the author of the bestselling book “Cancer Don’t Care,” which was published earlier this year. It’s a book I wrote as a way of processing everything I went through following my breast cancer diagnosis.
I also wrote it as a way of helping others by offering hope, comfort, encouragement, and inspiration to those who find themselves on this journey, as well as those who love & support them.
I often say, it’s the book I wish someone had given me when I was diagnosed.
But, before we get into my book, let’s take a step back. How did I get here?
That’s a question I often ask myself. And as I look back, it still feels a bit surreal. Almost like it never even happened. But then, I look in the mirror, and all the evidence is right there on full display. The gray hair, the extra lines on my face, the newly constructed breasts. Yes, I have been through quite the battle, but through the grace of God, I have survived.
So, what was my life like before my diagnosis?
In many ways, my story began two years before my diagnosis. That’s when I unexpectedly lost my mom. Not to breast cancer, not even to cancer. It was sudden & unexpected. And what followed was a profound period of grief. Unbearable grief. If you’ve experienced the sudden loss of a loved one, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And I was struggling to pull myself together.
Losing my mom forced me to take a hard look at my own life. My lifestyle and my priorities. And I knew I needed to make some lifestyle changes. So, I set out on a quest to lose a few pounds, and live a life based on healthy choices.
The first thing I did was buy a Peloton bike and start working out. Then I started eating better and removed alcohol from my diet. I was doing all the right things in terms of maintaining a healthy lifestyle and routine.
For two years, I worked out like a maniac 6 days a week. I didn’t drink. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t do drugs. I looked great. I felt great. And I was in the best shape of my life. But guess what? CANCER DON’T CARE! That’s when I found a lump in my right breast. Days later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Exactly 2 years after my Peloton arrived at my door, breast cancer came crashing through my ceiling.
At the very moment that I thought I was the healthiest I had ever been, ironically, I was the sickest.
I didn’t understand it…How do you go from healthy to breast cancer?
It all started with an intermittent pain in my right breast. I initially thought it was a side effect from the COVID vaccine, which I had just had a few weeks prior. Plus, I’d just had my annual mammogram 4 ½ months earlier, and everything had been normal. But the pain persisted for a few weeks. Then one night, the pain was keeping me awake. It felt like someone was poking my right breast with a needle. So, I sat up in bed and started feeling around.
That’s when I found it. A lump in my right breast.
The next day I called my OBGYN’s office and made an appointment. Everything went fast after that. All in a matter of hours, I had a mammogram, followed by an ultrasound, followed by a biopsy.
Four days later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
There are certain days that you will always remember. The memory of everything you felt is permanently etched upon your soul. And the day of my diagnosis was certainly one of them. I remember the call. I remember the radiologist’s words. They were just whizzing past my ears, and I was in disbelief. She kept asking me if I had any questions. Of course I had questions. I had all the questions; I just didn’t know what they were.
She told me I had invasive ductal carcinoma. And that it was triple-negative breast cancer. At first, I thought negative was probably a good thing, because I was clueless about cancer. But I quickly learned that triple-negative was a very aggressive form of breast cancer, and more challenging to treat.
So, the treatment strategy had to be aggressive too. I would have 16 rounds of chemo. The first 12 rounds would be every week for 12 weeks. Then the last 4 rounds would be 3 weeks apart. Then I would have surgery – either a lumpectomy, mastectomy, or double mastectomy.
It was also recommended for me to have genetics testing, because TNBC is often associated with the BRCA1 gene mutation. Yep, I had that too, which meant I had a significantly higher risk of developing cancer in my other breast as well as ovarian cancer.
So, after 16 rounds of chemo, a double mastectomy, the removal of my ovaries and fallopian tubes, I am beyond blessed to say that I am CANCER-FREE!
But, getting here wasn’t easy, as anyone who has been through it will agree. It is a hard-fought battle, with plenty of ups and downs.
More than anything, I think it requires you to tap into your inner strength in ways you never thought imaginable. It requires immense mental fortitude. So, right off the bat, I developed a positive mindset and demanded the same of those around me. It was not the time for negativity or tears. In fact, I established a “no tears allowed” policy the day I was diagnosed. I know that my positivity, along with my fierce determination, proved to be a critical driving force in getting me through some of the toughest moments and days.
At the same time, I was forced to face my fears head-on. All of them. Fears about the diagnosis, and treatment, and my prognosis. Fears about the general unknown. And every part of it was laced with uncertainty. BUT, I didn’t focus on that…only on the fight! It required every bit of my energy and attention.
Through it all, I constantly told myself to keep fighting and keep moving. Show cancer who’s boss. I had to ride the roller coaster of emotions and keep pushing myself harder. I worked out as much as I could to keep my strength up. And to do healthy things to counterbalance the poison that was entering my body with each chemo infusion.
So much was out of my control, so I learned to control what I could. That included making some difficult decisions about who or what I allowed in, and who or what I had to keep out. That meant surrounding myself with the people who truly loved, supported, and encouraged me. I had to lean on them in ways I never had before. And they let me. They helped me to help myself. And they did the things for me that I was unable to do.
Although I can tell you my story in this very matter-of-fact way today, it wasn’t really like that at all. When I was going through it, I felt it. All of it. The weight of everything that was happening. The fear. The anxiety. The loss of control. The downward spirals. My own mortality. The isolation. The morbid curiosity. All the what ifs.
So how do you get through it?
You get through it because you don’t have a choice. You just do it. Mind over matter. The only way through is through. So, I dug deep to tap into my internal strength, while leaning on others to provide external strength. To carry me in ways I couldn’t carry myself. And I leaned in hard on my faith, like never before.
And I documented everything — the good, the bad, the bald — and shared it on social media. Having cancer is so isolating, so his allowed me to stay in connected, while lifting the veil on some of the most intimate details of my journey. To let people in and see that I was OK. To let people see that my fighting spirit was still intact. To candidly share what I was going through in a way that others might find inspiring. To share my philosophies on love, and life, and health, and grief. To talk about my priorities and showcase my positivity. Smiling through it all, as best as I could.
Then I took my experience — all of it — and I wrote my story.
Like many of you, I didn’t see breast cancer coming, and I certainly wasn’t prepared for it. I was living my life, minding my own business. I didn’t want any trouble, least of all cancer. I was focused on my health, my family, my career, and the everyday minutia of life. And then, just like that, everything changed. My priorities shifted in a single moment.
I wish I could tell you that I found strength immediately. That I was brave from the very start. But the truth is, I found my strength through the struggle. I found my courage in the quiet moments of doubt. It was when I didn’t feel like getting out of bed but did anyway. It was in the moments when I wanted to cry but kept moving instead. Every step, no matter how small, felt like a victory.
Everyone in this room has faced something unimaginable. Many of us have seen the dark underbelly of breast cancer up close and personal. And we’ve seen that cancer don’t care. Cancer don’t care who you are, how you live your life, how much you work out, how strong you are, or what plans you’ve made.
But what cancer doesn’t know is that WE care. We care about ourselves. We care about each other. And we are determined to live a life that cancer can’t touch. THAT’S what resilience is all about!
As for me, I learned a lot of valuable lessons along the way. Here are just a few of them…
- It goes back to before the journey. Before the diagnosis. Always be aware of little changes in your body. If something doesn’t feel right or you don’t feel right, call your doctor. Don’t wait! No one knows your body better than you do.
- Ask questions. Lots of questions. And if you don’t know the questions to be asking, then ask your doctor what you should be asking.
- Be your own advocate.
- Surround yourself with the right people & let them help you.
- Take a breath. Meditate. It quiets mind and helps with stress and anxiety.
- Listen to your body.
- Keep moving
- Control what you can…what you eat…How much you move your body…Who and what you allow in & who and what you keep out…Your attitude – – keep it positive!
- You are not alone!
- Their story isn’t your story.
- Expect the unexpected.
One of the most pivotal moments in my story was when I tested positive for the BRCA1 gene mutation. Not just because it solidified the fact that I would be having a double mastectomy, but because it brought my daughter Kendall into my story in a way that I didn’t expect.
Since I had the gene mutation, it was possible that she had it too. So, through genetic testing of her own, it was confirmed…she was BRCA1 positive. That meant that her risk for developing breast cancer was 55-65%. And she was also at high risk for ovarian cancer.
But, because I was still in my hot war with cancer, Kendall, a mother of three boys, wanted to wait until I was out of the woods before making any decisions.
So, after my battle ended, my focus immediately turned towards Kendall and mitigating her risk.
- It was tricky because she was undiagnosed, yet at high risk
- So, navigating insurance and the healthcare system was challenging to say the least
- We had to kick down doors and make things happen.
- It took over a year to get her into MD Anderson.
- Then she weighed her options, and made the brave decision to preemptively have a double mastectomy and full hysterectomy.
- I couldn’t be prouder of her…at age 33 she voluntarily threw herself into early menopause…She’s my hero!
- And timing is everything, because they found Precancerous cells in her uterine lining.
- Kendall has become very vocal in talking about the importance of genetics testing and in sharing her story along with me on various podcasts.
- She also has a willingness to talk to other women her age about her experience and answer any questions they might have.
My journey taught me that even in the darkest moments, there is light. And where there is light, there hope. And through it all, we find incredible strength. Strength we never knew existed.
Writing my book was such an incredibly emotional experience. Not only did it provide me with the personal space I so desperately needed to process everything I had been through, but it allowed me to share my story in a meaningful way, by giving hope and inspiration to those who need it most. It interlaces the harsh realities of my breast cancer journey with moments of genuine laughter.
So, I’d like to close with a little excerpt from my book. It’s from the Afterword, which is kind of ironic, because it was one of the first parts that I wrote.
“Like any journey, there are left turns, right turns, times when you have to circle the block, climb uphill, coast downhill, take detours, drive over gravel, and encounter rough terrain. Sometimes it’s a freshly paved road, and sometimes it’s a street full of potholes. You might travel straight for miles or hit a roundabout and have to yield the right of way. Other times, you might veer off track onto dirt roads. You might be the driver, or the passenger, or find yourself alone in the backseat. You might rely on maps, navigation systems, or landmarks. You might get hot or get cold. You might roll the windows down, open the sunroof, or turn on the seat heater. You might hit dead-ends or encounter road construction. You might get a flat tire, overheat your engine, run out of gas, or have a blowout. You might have to get out and walk or push. But through it all, you must stay the course.”
I was once asked if breast cancer defines me.
My answer was emphatically, NO! But breast cancer is certainly a chapter in my story. It’s part of the conversation. It’s in my professional bio, and it’s on my website, and no doubt it will be included in my obituary.
A diagnosis is a very power thing, and it changes us forever. But we don’t let it define us. We let it lift us!