Running the Race with Gratitude, Perseverance, Hope, and Faith – Sprint IV

Before we jump into Sprint IV, I want to introduce the strong and beautiful soul who appeared beside me in my previous post: Patti Conforti. The photo was taken last Sunday at her home.

Matthew 6:10 says, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Does this mean it is God’s will for us to suffer? I’ve wrestled with that question many times. Yes, God could stop every moment of pain—but without suffering, we’d be never stretched, never strengthened. God has a plan for each of us, and part of our journey is learning to walk in it with trust and courage.

I’m sharing a photo from my middle-school years—a truly candid moment. My Fr. Uncle had called my name and was waiting on the other side of a curtain with his camera ready. The second I pulled it open… snap! If you notice my clothes are partially soaked, you’re not wrong. I had likely just come back from fetching water from our well or hand-washing some clothes. At this point, your guess is as good as mine!

For this part of the race, I asked the women one more meaningful question—one I think many of us have struggled with:

“Were there any comments or assumptions from others that made the journey feel harder?”

Their answers, along with mine, are woven throughout Sprint IV and help shape the story as it unfolds.

Patti:
Once I publicly shared my diagnosis, I found that some people, even immediate family members, felt that all was shared on social media and that I was doing just fine – nothing to worry about.  I only shared my situation for awareness to others, so that someone else doesn’t have the same situation I did.  But it was fighting that expectation that I could just do everything as I had previously and I did not need anything different.  Cancer can be a visually unseen situation and you can look “normal” on the outside.  Its mentally, physically and emotionally draining that you can learn to mask in public.  It doesn’t mean its easy – but sometimes its better than people staring/whispering/commenting…..

Jennifer:
In the beginning it was probably the nurses and doctors not sharing an opinion in what they would do if faced with the same decision. I think that was hard. Hearing stories from others that were so much worse than mine. That was hard and painful to hear but also reminded me that if they can endure what they had to endure, I can do this.

Devika:
I’ve always been someone who’s prone to anxiety, so I knew from the start that protecting my peace would be essential during this journey. One of the hardest parts was hearing comments or assumptions about my treatment choices. Some people felt that a more natural or holistic approach was best. While I appreciated that their intentions came from a good place, it just wasn’t the path I chose for myself — and that’s okay. Learning to stand firm in my own decisions, without guilt or explanation, was a big part of my healing process.

My Response:
When I was first diagnosed, I told only a small circle of people. It wasn’t because I wanted to keep secrets—it was because I didn’t want pity. Part of that comes from the culture I grew up in, where news spreads fast and careless comments can cut deep. Another part was wanting to protect my family from unnecessary worry.

There were moments when I thought about sharing my diagnosis more openly, but then I reminded myself: everyone is carrying their own hidden battles. So I chose to stay quiet. If you’re learning about my diagnosis for the first time through this blog, I hope you’ll understand—and forgive me.

In those early days, I heard all kinds of unsolicited advice. Someone even told me, “You don’t need surgery—just drink your own urine and it will heal you.” That one stopped me in my tracks. Others blamed stress or a particular vaccine. I’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, to assume they spoke from concern rather than judgment. Still, hearing those things while I was trying to make sense of everything myself was overwhelming. It was one more reason I hesitated to share widely.

Yes, I deal with stress—who doesn’t?—but I’ve always managed it well. I’m disciplined with daily exercise (some of my neighbors even call me the “running lady”), I follow the 80/20 approach to eating—even if it drives my family a little crazy when I visit—and in my early twenties I lost half my body weight through healthy habits and have maintained it ever since. So of course I asked my doctor what I could have done differently.

Her answer was simple, steady, and exactly what I needed:
“Don’t listen to anyone. There’s no single answer for what causes cancer. I have patients who run marathons and live the healthiest lifestyles, and they still end up with it.”

Her words brought me a sense of clarity and peace. Not everything in life has a tidy explanation. Not every hardship is the result of something we did—or didn’t—do.

Thank you for running Sprint IV with me.

Up next is Sprint V, where I’ll introduce another remarkable, resilient woman (pictured here) and her incredible family. Stay tuned.