?MY story is simple, but not an easy one to tell.? Thus goes the opening line of the movie ?Life is Beautiful.?

My own story began with a simple lump in 2007. Up until then, things were going fine. I was happily married, my career was on the upswing, my eldest daughter was graduating from high school and my youngest would be entering third year.

I felt the lump on my right breast, but decided to wait for my annual check-up scheduled in June. But the lump seemed to grow everyday so my husband and I finally had it examined in May. The tests confirmed my greatest fear: invasive ductal carcinoma. Simply put, breast cancer.

I stupidly muttered to the doctor, ?Malignant means . . .?? hoping he would not say the word that to me sounded like a death sentence. My doctor started explaining things, but everything was a haze. I was thinking?this could not be true. Then I was crying, and when my husband tried to comfort me, I shouted at him: ?Can?t you even understand?! I?m dying!?

Before this, the idea of death was always farthest from my mind. I imagined myself at the ripe old age of 80, playing with my grandchildren and great-grandchildren. And now this.

My husband and I broke the news to our immediate families and my closest friends, but not to our children. We felt they were not ready for the bad news and we didn?t want their studies to be affected. After the initial shock, I surprised even myself at how easily I was able to accept my fate. The only thing I asked God was to be spared the physical pain throughout all that I would have to go through.

After surgery in early June, further tests on the removed tissue revealed that I am HER2 positive (aside from being ER and PR positive too), which means I have too much of a protein called HER2 and thus have a greater risk of the cancer recurring, because breast cancer of this type tends to be more aggressive. That meant, aside from the eight regular chemotherapy sessions, that I had to have an additional 17 sessions of Herceptin, which would cost us at least P1.5 million. The eight sessions alone had taken a great toll on the family?s finances, and here comes another burden.

We grew hopeful when I was recommended to be part of a clinical study at the Cardinal Santos Medical Center, which meant I could get the necessary treatments and medication for free. Unfortunately, my bone scan revealed metastasis on the sternum area, which meant the cancer was in the fourth stage. I was disqualified from the study.

At this point, I really felt I was heading towards the pre-departure area. Death became very real to me. I felt compelled to do a lot of things within the little time I had left?saying goodbye to loved ones, putting life insurance documents in order, and being more prayerful, primarily to ask God to extend my life. Crying a lot and questioning God was part of the whole process. And to add to my already dire situation, I felt a nodule the size of a mongo grain in my healthy breast. Both my surgeon and oncologist said chemotherapy would ?melt? it?but in case it didn?t, I would have to go under the knife again. God was really playing tricks on me.

My faith taught me that I have to believe that I am already completely healed. But being a persistently doubting Thomas, I asked three things from God. If I were truly healed, He would grant these: 1) The financial provisions for my sessions (8 regular plus 17 boosters); 2) The nodule would disappear; and 3) My bone metastasis would go away.

The last two years have been a roller-coaster ride, with me being down most of the time. Many times I wanted to give up the fight, especially when depression got the better of me or the pain was almost too much to bear. I made a very conscious effort to keep a happy disposition despite what I was going through. The chemo sessions were the worst because of the indescribable pain. I would wake up in the middle of the night just to throw up. At one point, I fainted from too much exhaustion. I wanted to eat but couldn?t; the mere sight and smell of food made me nauseous. I would cry silently whenever I see my children, unsure that I would see them finish school.

I especially pitied my mother, for I could see how it broke her heart to see me in pain. She would hug me, massage my whole body, feed and bathe me, cry with me, wanting to share my pain.

All throughout the chemo sessions, the little nodule on my healthy breast kept nagging me, until I almost gave up and asked God to just take me.

But lo and behold! God gave me the strength to finish the eight cycles, and one day in February 2008, while bathing, I could no longer feel the nodule. It remains non-existent to this day. Eight months after my first bone scan, I had another one in June 2008. There was no metastasis. Last August 20, I had my 17th and last Herceptin infusion.

Where did I get the funds? I don?t know. God just provided. He led us to the right people, agencies, and creditors. Of course, we incurred financial obligations that we have to pay, but the point is, God touched all of them to help us in our moment of need. My husband, children, parents, in-laws, siblings, relatives, friends, friends of friends, our pastor, our church, my small group?the list goes on and on. And I can never thank God enough for His goodness. Nor my doctors whom God used as instruments for my healing.

Certainly there were bright spots in those two years. One involved the wig I?ve been wearing since I started my chemo sessions. During one of our meetings at work, our Retail Banking Sector head, former PBA player and Rookie of the Year Cho Sison complimented me on my new hairstyle. Not knowing about the wig, he repeated the compliment at another event. Of course I was flattered. For me, it meant I was carrying the whole ordeal well.

What?s next for me? Since I am also ER and PR positive, I need to take Tamoxifen for the next five years. My OB-Gyne also suggests that I undergo a hysterectomy. Through all these, I believe that God will be with me again, as He has always been.

My concept of death has changed a lot since. I?ve told my children that since death is inevitable, it should not be feared. Instead, we should make our lives Christ-focused in preparation for a greater life beyond. The whole experience has transformed me. I have become more prayerful, insightful and more appreciative of even the seemingly trivial things?the sunshine on my window, the air I breathe, my loved ones? laughter, the very fact that I am still alive and relatively functional. It?s really all very simple! ?