My name is Mandy. I grew up in Verona, graduated from the UW, have had a successful communications career in Corporate America, at nonprofits, and in government. I taught middle school with Teach for America in Washington DC. I got pregnant at 40 – surprise! And have raised my son on my own for all of his 11 years. I was with my mom when she died a couple of years ago and now help take care of my dad (although he would be offended by the word “help.”) Throughout all of it, one theme runs true – I will not rely on anyone but myself.
Who knew how drastically that would change when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in July of 2024?
At first I wasn’t sure who I would tell. I thought just my closest friends and my dad. Maybe I could just have my son sleep over at a friend’s on the night of my surgery. But after chatting with my four Madison friends, I started to think that I may need to rethink telling my son, my neighbors, and my wider community. My friend Sharon reminded me that kids often feel the stress of their parents but tell themselves a way worse story than the truth.
A day or so after that conversation, Miles, my son, woke up hysterically crying. He couldn’t even tell me what was wrong, so he wrote it down. The note said, “I woke up in my dream and you were gone. Gone forever.”
In that moment, my heart crumbled and I knew I had to tell him. A friend suggested I reach out to Gilda’s for resources on what to say. Gilda’s staff suggested I reach out to Bright Spot Network who in turn sent me several great books and resources. I was able to have an honest, age-appropriate conversation with my son. He was scared, but also grateful we could still go to the Cubs game that weekend.
Fast forward two surgeries and the news that I would also need to get four rounds of chemo that would make my hair fall out. Up until this point, my friends, family, and neighbors had rallied for me with food, coming to appointments, sending flowers, checking in. But this next journey was where I really learned the value of letting others help.
My core support team of local friends rallied with medical advice, drove me to and from chemo, got my hair prepped for cold capping each time, gave me all the tips, continued a meal train, created a childcare and yardwork schedule for people to sign up for, got me a cleaning service, and checked in on me regularly. How blessed was I?
And yet, I was struggling on my own. Miles was struggling watching his mom try and keep it together, but not having any energy and losing half of my hair.
Who was there when we needed more? Gilda’s.
I joined the breast cancer support group and got tips from other women going through treatment. It was an emotional conversation to say the least, but I felt heard and I learned so much. I joined the Wednesday guided meditations which may seem like a small thing, but for someone going through chemo and trying to hibernate from germs, this provided a dedicated hour each week where I could drift off and imagine a healthy future. I joined Qi Gong and Tai Chi with a group of people with an average age of 80 if I had a guess and watched as they had more energy than I did to do the moves. But it made me grateful for my body, got me moving even a little, and gave me hope of a long life too.
Most importantly, Gilda’s helped my son. After a few conversations with staff, we decided Miles would have some independent counseling sessions with Elizabeth. The first day Miles was a bit nervous. We got a tour of the house, played a silly dice game, laughed together. Miles wanted to go back! Future sessions, Miles came in excited to see Elizabeth, grab a glass of juice from the fridge, and learn about what cancer is and does in the body. They played games. They made a jar of fun activities that Miles and I could do together. She helped him name his feelings and remember ways he could escape and deal with his own stress. And during his counseling time, I camped out in the vibrating recliner next to the fireplace and rested peacefully for an hour. What a blessing!
Looking back, my cancer journey had moments of despair, sadness, and pain. But it also had moments of great reflection and healing. I learned to ask for help and was blessed by so much love and care in return.
Thank you to Sharon, Lisa, Kim, and Nicole. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.
And thank you to Gilda’s Club for all that you did for Miles and me.
If my story has inspired you in any way, please consider supporting Gilda’s Club so other families can continue to receive the care and support we did. No one should have to face cancer alone, and organizations like Gilda’s Club make it possible for individuals and families to find connection, understanding, and hope during some of life’s most difficult moments.