Clea Shearer, co -founder of Modifying houseis best known for organizing people’s houses, eliminating size and creating impeccable spaces and coordinated by color. But her world was thrown into chaos in March 2022 when, at 40, she was diagnosed with an invasive breast carcinoma of stage II, a type of aggressive breast cancer. From his diagnosisShe frankly shared the ups and downs of her cancer journey, including Crushing complications And reverseWith it more than 280,000 Instagram subscribers. Now with his new book, Cancer is complicated, Shearer shares the lessons she has learned along the way, hoping to make the experience a little less frightening for anyone going through the treatment of cancer.
In this interview with Rachel Grumman Bender of Yahoo, Shearer talks about spotting her own cancer, choosing to get a double mastectomy even if she did not have cancer in the two breasts and how even if you have a talent to stay organized, life does not always take place as planned.
I found my cancer by myself. While I was in the shower, I felt something in my chest. I’m almost sure it was not a whole new feeling. It was just the first time that I stopped and said to myself, Wait, it’s a bump. When they talk about lumps, this is the bump they are talking about.
I had just been 40 years earlier. So, I have a sort of in my head, it is now the age when you get mammographies and you start to rock these things. While it was starting to sink, I thought, Why would it be something other than a breast cancer bump?
So I got out of the shower, trembling, and called the office of my gynecologist. They said they couldn’t integrate me for mammography [for months]. What I know now about my pathology tumors is that they are very fast and aggressive, so if I had taken this as an answer, I think I would probably have been in a very different situation at the moment. Something in me told me that it was very different, so I went to see my primary care doctor, who jumped and mobilized and made me a mammography meeting and an ultrasound meeting. The day I went for both, I was told that I needed an emergency triple biopsy [known as a triple assessment to get a rapid diagnosis] Because there were masses regarding ultrasound.
I kept asking, “Is it cancer? Is it cancer?” The first radiologist has just introduced the line and said they needed a biopsy to be able to answer this question. Then in the biopsy room, I asked again, and they were like “darling, you have cancer.” And it was right there, just in the open air. I have cancer. It rocked my world.
My cancer was in my right breast, but I decided that I was going to have a double mastectomy. I said to myself very clearly: “I want them to both left.” If I can have cancer on my right side, I can have cancer on my left side. My children at the time were 11 and 8 years old. I didn’t want them to wear the burden of this for so long. So the day before my double mastectomy, I sat with my children to tell them the news. I wanted it to be fairly fast: “I’m going to have my body surgery tomorrow and I will take out the cancer from my body.” They cried. And then they had a few questions.
My daughter wanted to know if I was going to be the kind of patient where I was bald, because I think that is what a lot of people refrain from having cancer. I told him at that time that I did not know, but there was a chance that I would not need chemo. I answered things really honestly. I felt that even if they were young, they deserved to know the truth. I would not really rare anything because my doctor said he thought my cancer was not only treatable but healing. And so when I spoke to my children, I could honestly tell them that my real belief was that I would be fine.
It was before I did in surgery, where they found that cancer had moved to my lymph nodes. So I did not know at that time that he had spread. When I woke up from surgery, I was given the wrong news. My oncologist said, “You are going to need an aggressive chemo schedule.”
The first line of my book says: “If you are the type of person who likes to have control of a situation, cancer is not the disease for you.” This is not the kind of disease you can control, and each time you could try, you are just hit on the ground. I said to myself to “control the controls” – 95% of everything I will live or I feel, I cannot control, and each time I think I have a plan, the plan just goes through the window. But there was certain things that I felt like I was in control, and I really wanted to focus on these things. For example, I didn’t want my hair to fall in the shower or on the pillowcase [during chemotherapy]So I shaved my own head.
My mom and [husband] John and I entered a routine where we would go together at the chemo. My mom would be with a needle. John would be on his computer. We were a trio and they sat with me each appointment. Afterwards, we were going to have lunch next to this little coffee that we love. And then I would go home and I was taking a nap. I think, It’s a very good day. And then of course I would be sick [from the chemo] Two days later. The chemo was difficult, but I also found a rhythm with that.
I was also very diligent in the packaging of my chemo bag. It was important for me to have certain things with me, and I actually have a list in my book in case people need ideas for what to bring or what to offer to someone. I had my Kindle. I had my fuzzy socks. I had a warm blanket because they give you, like prison blankets, so it’s good to bring yours. I had some snacks. I had my own bottle of water, a phone charger and headphones. I also had a few things that I felt good luck: my mother had given me a clover with four silver leaves and my friend gave me a little golden Buddha. That’s all that makes you feel good, everything that makes you smile – it matters.
[After months of treatment, testing last year showed] I was negative to have cancer cells in my body, which is incredible because the chemo and the radiation worked.
My trip is only my trip, but the biggest lesson I learned – and something I really want people to take hope – is that I had so many good days that bad days. I entered this treatment trip thinking that I would have no quality of life and I would just be sick in bed all the time, and it was simply not true. I think I would have had much less fear if I knew or if I had it in my head as a possibility. Again, I’m not saying that everyone will experience it. For me, I did it. I want people to have the same hope. Chemo makes you sick, but that doesn’t make you sick all the time.
I found a goal in all the good and bad times.
Another lesson I have learned is to accept help. I am not someone who does it normally. I am a very independent person. But your friends, your family, even the people you don’t see all the time, they want to help. Accept help. Accept meals. Accept the business. Everyone on your orbit is really helpless and they want to do something for you. In fact, I need help in many different ways.
I always thought that I was a very delicate flower – really like a fabric flower in the snow. I never, never planned that I could go through something like that. I am not even stronger than I thought – I am damn loud. It was a shock for me. I have really sobbed hysterically only five times in the past three years. It’s not like I wanted to cry and I didn’t do it. It is that I found a goal in all the good and bad times. Sometimes I really want, How can I continue? But you just notice that you are so much stronger than you never thought.
[Experiences like mine are] Like a howling red signal that we must all prioritize our health in relation to our busy schedules. Women are specifically not good to get started first and their health first. Everything is more important. I recently read that everyone has a million problems until they have a health crisis, then they have a problem. And that’s the truth. I want people to realize it and remember that everything they have planned in their lives disappears if you do not have your health.
This was published for duration and clarity.
