Connectedness is central to the growth that occurs through meaningful learning. It is a reciprocal process where identity and interrelational value foster meaning. In many instances, the attribute of connectedness becomes lost within the daily structures of schooling. Perhaps this would not be the case if more opportunities to connect, integrate, and personalize experiences were naturally afforded within learning environments. Although the following narrative is not one specific to progression with educational organizations, it may just offer a lesson critical to closing the gap between learning and schooling.
Five years ago, an unexpected diagnosis of stage one breast cancer came upon me. Being a mother of three, a wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, and educator, I remember the instinctive fear of how the outcome of my treatment would ultimately and forever change the lives of those closely connected to me. Fortunately for us all, with an early diagnosis, a thorough treatment plan put forth by my incredible team of doctors, and unwavering support from loved ones, my story is one of recovery, healing, and living.
My name is Michelle Halloran, and at the age of forty-six, I had a bilateral mastectomy after being diagnosed with DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ). A year prior, my cancer was at stage zero with an ADH (Atypical Ductal Hyperplasia) diagnosis. Over the span of this timeframe, with close monitoring and medication, an aggressive tumor grew. Throughout the process of recommended surgeries and treatment, I considered myself to be on the lucky side of cancer. By this, I knew I was extremely fortunate to have the information, resources, and support needed to receive the best care. The gratitude I internalized while going through procedures helped me remain focused on the bigger picture of living cancer-free. As I transition into the Survivorship Program at Memorial Sloane Kettering, I can thankfully share that my vision for recovery has indeed become my reality. With great compassion for those facing similar circumstances, I understand far too well that not all experience this outcome.
Looking back on this time, I remember applying a steadfast and determined mindset toward overcoming any obstacles. It was important to me that life continued as usual. I never wanted my family or close friends to view me as being sick or unnecessarily worried about an outcome they had no control over. Additionally, as an educator committed to the hopes and opportunities of a new school year, with great support, I decided to begin the year teaching. For me, it was nothing more than necessary to continue back to the life I had planned before my diagnosis. This course of action helped me persevere through the parts of this journey that I believed would be the hardest.
Life can sometimes take the most unexpected turns, to say the least. Right at the point when I thought I was over my battle with breast cancer, a pandemic hit, schools closed, and the time I never gave myself to heal was provided. For many reasons, I didn’t welcome it. I felt guilty for having such negative thoughts about the implants I was supposed to be grateful for. A great sense of loss lingered, and the unwanted feelings of being guarded held their challenges. When I saw myself in pictures, I was shocked at how upset I became. This was unlike how I viewed myself before, making me feel even worse. As I held onto the guilt, I found myself continually praying for individuals who had lost their lives to cancer. I thought of those who had gone through far worse and never had the option of reconstruction. From the outside, my doctors, family, and friends viewed my appearance and point of recovery through such a positive lens. I remember feeling disappointed in myself because I genuinely wanted to share their optimism but could not.
Moving forward to the following year, in-person facilities began to open up, and I found myself speaking personally to my oncologist's nurse practitioner. She was pleased with my progress and how well I had healed. It was recommended that we continue on our regimented plan of follow-up exams and medication. After asking if I had any questions, she was surprised when I inquired about possible recommendations for someone specializing in fittings to assist women in my current circumstance. I explained that I had no success finding undergarments that fit me in typical department stores and how I often left in tears, feeling overwhelmed by the entire process. At the current time, I was over two years post-surgery and still wearing recovery or sports wear. Ultimately, this made me feel as if I was still going through treatment when, indeed, I was cancer-free and well on my way to being healed.
After some research, my doctor’s receptionist found an organization she believed could help me. She graciously wrote down the number for A World of Pink and wished me well. When I initiated the phone call to them, I felt relieved that I was taking a step toward integrating all of the isolated steps and procedures of the past few years. Nervously calling, I first spoke with a very kind woman named Christine, who assured me she could help me as she had worked with numerous women in similar positions. We scheduled my first appointment, which I anxiously awaited.
At the time of my visit, Christine explained that the option of shopping in typical department stores was no longer one that applied to me. The process for me had changed post-surgery because the implants I was now adjusting to needed to be sized differently. The notion of never knowing this took me aback. I had always believed my lack of acceptance of how things now were was preventing me from moving on. This was thankfully not the case. While taking this all in, I realized I did not have the correct information or means of navigating this final stage independently. I then wondered why it was that this impactful resource and vital information wasn’t integrated into the follow-up care for individuals recovering from breast surgery.
After a nurturing fitting and trying on several different styles, I felt hope and relief. Every item I tried on felt comfortable and fit me to a tee. As I left the boutique that day excited about the many new items we selected, I was optimistic that this experience would be a turning point in my recovery. I wanted to share this incredible organization with every person I knew who was following a similar path to mine. Personally, Christine’s help and support were just as central to all of the other critical areas of treatment. It was this missing piece that shifted the direction in which I began to accept, heal, and move away from the feelings of being stuck at the height of a diagnosis.
Reflecting upon the many isolated steps experienced over the past few years, I realize more than ever the importance human connection and integration play in one's ability to progress. Feelings of acceptance began to take hold when I could connect with others I trusted. As such, it was only when each individualized therapy was ultimately connected by an integrated approach that I felt a sense of survivorship. At the time, I could not see my passion for building learner-centered environments coming through in my own life. This line of thinking and respect for the evolutionary process of learning is one I can only identify as human-centered. Within all fields, from athletic and medical to educational, transformation is quite possible when personal human connections exist and natural interventions unfold based on the needs of individuals.
As I begin this summer celebrating five years since the beginning of this unpredictable journey, I’m grateful to be at a point where I can share my story. There were so many times I could barely talk about the personal details I’ve reflected upon, and to finally be ready means I can now let go. In my eyes, this process of letting go does not mean forgetting. I could never let the events in my life that have now been integrated together slip away. These five years will be forever imprinted in my heart, mind, and body. However, I now understand the importance of tucking them away in a place that allows me to make room for future opportunities and experiences. As I move forward, I am incredibly grateful to my close inner circle of family and friends who supported me. I may have been the one diagnosed, but they were undoubtedly affected. I will forever be thankful for their patience and love. My hope is that our story reaches individuals seeking support, guidance, or a sense of understanding. Our stories are who we are, and I truly believe that within their integrated connectedness resides the power of hope.
Comments