Finding (New)
Life as a
Cancerpreneur
by Rachel Park
S
hortly before I turned 40, I had a “good job.”
After experiencing a series of layoffs, I was
working above and beyond in this new position, hoping my dedication would be noticed.
But in my heart, I knew I didn’t really LOVE what
I was doing. It was demanding, but I made good
money. That’s what mattered, right? You can’t not
have a job, I thought. I was determined to see it
through.
After a particularly grueling, long week (including
working nights and Sunday), I was burning out.
I asked for earned time off that I never allowed
myself to take. Anticipating a long overdue break,
I was surprised the day before with an unexpected
meeting. Suddenly, I was unemployed. AGAIN.
What just happened? What did I just work my ass
off for? Why had I given so much to something that
didn’t mean anything to me? Why was I hoping
someone else would validate my worth? Finally, I
realized that “job security” was just an illusion.
41
As I faced my unknown future, I already had a
beach vacation planned for my upcoming birthday
and was determined to enjoy it. There, I looked at
the water and contemplated what the hell I was
going to do with my life.
Before I could get my answer -- and shortly after
turning 40 -- I felt a small lump in my breast.
Convincing myself it was “just a cyst,” I scheduled
my first-ever mammogram and more tests. Over
the phone (yes, really), my doctor confirmed my
worst fears: I had Stage IIB triple-negative breast
cancer. I was devastated.
Ironically, on the first day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I met my new oncologist. Before I
could process any of it, I was on the Cancer Train.
And once it starts, it starts fast.
Suddenly, a new job was the last thing on my
mind. My life was now divided into two parts: B.C.
(Before Cancer) and A.C. (After Cancer). Now A.C.,
I could not think past today. Would I even make it
to my next birthday?