Sonya Rose’s year of grace was 2011.
It all started because of a dream that she says was “miraculous,” in which a giant woman appeared and warned her about breast cancer.
Within two hours of waking, Sonya went to the doctor to get checked out. She was soon diagnosed with breast cancer, and also tested positive for the BRCA2 gene mutation. She was only 39.
The path that unwound ahead of her was unbelievably hard. She already had Chronic Lyme Disease, which comes with its own management regimen. Her breast cancer journey began with a diagnosis of stage 2 ILC (Invasive Lobular Carcinoma). She had a lumpectomy, then eight cycles of chemo, and finally a bilateral total skin-sparring mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. In addition, she was to be on hormone therapy for the next five years.
Since her diagnosis, she has started eating healthier, and has been learning more about what being a carrier of the BRCA2 gene mutation means in terms of cancer risk.
Sonya writes poetry, which allows her to express her emotions and struggles. The heartfelt poem featured in this video is accompanied by clips of her breast cancer journey — both the highs (snuggling with her pooch) and the lows (getting treatment). She describes the struggle to stay positive, as well as the changes she’s experienced.
Take a look, and let us know what you think. The poem is printed in its entirety below the video.
I sit here—
Dreaming for things to naturally fall into its place.
Staring into my living space, so weak I appear.
Can’t keep up the pace—
Of the human race, a well-established career;
I feel so out of place.
I look back at the years, a memory trace of an old frontier.
See the rough bumps, the crinkly pattern in an emerald green depression vase…
In my changing face, I feel a new tear.
If only I could embrace—
The colors of the wind in its breathing space (all-clear)
If only I could swim with the ocean and reappear—
Like a pearl in its hiding place…
If only I could jump on the next cloud and disappear—
Fly to a higher place.
If only I could touch the sun and give more cheer—
Not burn up in deep space.
If only I could walk on the moon (from here)—
Write that song I hear play from its imaginary place.
If only I could play bass… and drink some fine dark beer—
On and on and on, in a parking space
With no cars, just a gathering space—to give ear;
A meeting place, a change of pace
For anyone who needs breathing place, a life peer.
Like me, this is my visual place.
Some say it’s a prisoner’s base, to draw nearer
To a lower place; to interlace…
Others say its part of an obstacle race, never to interfere
With a higher space,
And now my dog at my feet, who I hold dear,
Just wants me to cut to the chase.
All I know, it’s still all unclear…
But, to be sincere,
I could never fight this (cancer) alone, without fear—
Not without Love or my heart in the right place;
And, especially, not without—Grace.