Hope:  To want something to happen or be true and to think that it could happen or be true.

When I first felt a lump in my breast and didn’t know what it was, I hoped that it was nothing.  That it wasn’t cancer.  I held onto that hope with each new lump and with each doctor saying that it was just a cyst.

Then when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my hope changed.  I hoped for each of the following:

• That I would be there for Dillon’s high school graduation, marriage and children.
• That I would be the mom that Dillon deserved to have.
• That Jon and I would make it through the challenge of cancer without totally coming apart at the seams.
• That I could keep my cancer a secret from everyone except those closest to me.  I didn’t want to be a burden.  I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me.

After I finished radiation, my hope changed.  I started hoping that my blood work would come back good enough that I could stop being a human pin cushion.  That my mammograms would be clean.  That I would live a long and healthy life with my boys.

When I started having issues with my period and ovarian cysts, my hope was replaced by fear.  I was terrified that it was cancer.  I was frustrated with my body.  I stopped focusing on hope and let fear drive me.  I hid my fears from everyone.  I wanted everyone to think that I was strong.  That I was okay.  Once again, I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.

After my surgery, and a second diagnosis of cancer, I struggled to find hope.  It was too easy to let fear take over.  It was easy to feel sad and to dwell on the negative.  However, being sad and dwelling on the negative makes for a very miserable life.  Not getting dressed for days or not leaving the house for days only fueled that sadness and fear.  It wasn’t healthy for me.  It wasn’t healthy for my family.  So I dug deep inside of myself and found hope.  Now I hope:

• That I will be strong enough every day to get out of bed and make it through the day without crying.
• That I will laugh at something (or someone) at least once each day.
• That I will not let my fear turn to anger, but instead turn to hope.
• That I will be okay.

Because, if I can manage each of these things, I will be here for Dillon’s high school graduation.  I will be here to see him get married.  I will be here to hold my grandkids. Jon and I will be okay.

Hope gives me the want and desire to move forward.  Hope gives me something to work towards.  Hope gives me something to hang onto when it seems like there is nothing else.

Hope isn’t a magic pill but rather the ability to set aside my daily pain and fear with the expectation that life will be better soon.