I’m a selfishly independent human being. I didn’t have much choice in the matter, as my childhood could be comparable to a Lifetime movie special. My sister and I can look back and joke about everything now that we’re adults. “Oh, so it’s NOT normal to have a mom padlock the fridge door shut for days?” “Your mom didn’t send you with a note and paper food stamps to the grocery store to buy Virginia Slims?” There was a lot of abuse, drugs, teenage pregnancy(not me, my sister), and your fave-creating very unhealthy coping skills. I essentially had to raise myself emotionally, physically, and well, financially too. If there’s anything I’m learning in this diagnosis, it’s that I’m not going to be able to do this all on my own. I’m going to have to learn to ask for help. This is such a foreign concept for me.
I know when the time comes and I make a public announcement, there will be people whose feelings I’ve hurt in the process of keeping this a secret for as long as possible. Chances are, a lot of people are scared for me. To be forward, I don’t have time, space, or energy to deal with your fear. It’s important I get through this process without anyone’s fear trying to bully me into making decisions. I want to pick my care team. I want to pick my treatment. I want to be in control of what decisions are made to MY body. You can choose to support me, or you can choose to allow your fear to overwhelm your mindset.
Please believe me when I say, if I can survive Kelli Shannon as a mother, I can handle cancer.