Sunita

In 2014, at 35, life felt full of promise—until I found a small lump in my left breast. At first, I dismissed it, but as it grew, so did my concern. Alone in Bangalore, with my husband away, I faced the devastating diagnosis: high-grade triple-negative breast cancer. Fear gripped me, but as I watched my five-year-old son, I prayed for more time. Then, a realization struck—I was healthy and strong. Cancer would not define me. In that moment, I chose to fight, not just for survival, but for the life I refused to lose. A survivor’s guidance gave me the strength to fight. Before treatment, I quietly decided to buy a wig—I wasn’t ready for pity. My brother cared for my son while I faced six chemo cycles, a lumpectomy, and 36 radiation sessions. My oncologists, both brilliant and compassionate, became my shield. Faith kept me strong; I listened to Hanuman Chalisa before chemo and walked hospital corridors, never afraid. The view of swaying coconut trees and Shankaracharya’s photo gave me hope. Side effects were brutal, but my doctor’s support and healing touch made the unbearable a little more bearable. After months of chemo, my lumpectomy went well—only one of 36 lymph nodes tested positive. As I recovered, I dove into research, seeking knowledge to regain control. Radiation was draining, but I pushed through, counting the days until it was over. Finally, my follow-up scans were clear. My oncologist smiled and said, It’s time to go back to normal life. But what was normal now? Cancer had consumed so much of me—who was I beyond it? Counselling felt unnecessary at first, but my doctor’s advice to journal for 30 days changed everything. I poured out my fears, hopes, and hidden emotions. By the end, I felt lighter, as if shedding years of unseen burdens. Now, in 2025, I’m still in remission. Cancer reshaped me—not just physically but mentally and spiritually. I no longer stress over trivial things. I cherish the present, live with gratitude, and embrace joy in simple moments. The battle left scars, but it also gave me resilience, faith, and clarity. I am not just a survivor—I am a stronger, wiser, and freer version of myself. And for that, I am grateful.