The Road to Recovery

In the mid-2000s, my sister and I encountered a crossroads that would chart the course of our lives. It was a pivotal moment that led us to take a leap of faith and make a life-altering decision: enlisting in the U.S. Army. This choice came with its own set of challenges, yet little did I realize then that it held an unforeseen lifeline, one that would ultimately prove to be the key to my survival.

In the midst of my deployment in Iraq, around December 2008, I discovered a lump in my leg. I dismissed it as a minor issue, attributing my persistent exhaustion to the stresses of a war zone, the isolation of the holiday season, and the profound homesickness that came with being thousands of miles away from my family. Little did I know that this seemingly insignificant lump concealed a sinister secret. It was not a mere bump; it was a tumor, and not just any tumor, but one that would demand the amputation of my left leg.

I returned to the States where I was grateful to be admitted to a military hospital for my surgery and treatment, and received incredible care and financial assistance. This would become a priceless gift in my impending battle against a deadly enemy.

Faced with an extraordinary challenge, my mother made an incredible sacrifice. She left her stable six-figure job and responsibilities behind, uprooting her life to be by my side. With my sister still deployed in Iraq and my nephew in my mother’s care, and with me, her eldest daughter, battling terminal cancer, my mother carried an enormous burden on her shoulders.

I can vividly recall the day she arrived at the hospital. My emotions were a turbulent mix—I felt both safe and empty. I spent countless nights in her comforting embrace, tears freely flowing, while she cradled my nephew in her other arm. As the doctors struggled to chart a course for my rare case, often offering vague guidance and painting a grim picture of my future, a sense of impending doom pervaded the hospital room.

The priest made multiple visits to my room to read me my last rites, and fear began to tighten its grip. I had come to terms with my impending death, the prospect of never witnessing my nephew Donavin grow up, and my existence reduced to a fading memory, which was tormenting.

However, my mother, a force of nature, decided to take control of the narrative. She placed a sign on my hospital room door that simply read: Do not enter if you are not feeding her, taking her vitals, or giving her medication. This sign created a protective barrier against the intrusive questions and negative energy that had been encroaching upon my space.

Then, with unwavering faith in the power of positive thinking and the possibility of miracles, my mother delivered a life-altering pep talk. She said, “Brandi, I know the doctors don’t believe in you, but I do. We must believe. We must focus on the positive things right now. Don’t give up.” With her firm belief, my mother transformed our narrative. We ceased dwelling on death and began exploring the promise of life after cancer.

On the days when I felt well enough, we dared to dream. We envisioned a future where I became a published author, sharing my story globally. We saw me rising as a global cancer advocate, challenging and inspiring people affected by the disease to look at cancer through a different lens. We even dared to dream of crafting a children’s book to bring hope to young souls battling Ewing Sarcoma and appearing on major talk shows. The most audacious dream was the thought of meeting Oprah one day and sharing my story of hope.

Turning My Dreams Into a Reality

Today, I can proudly say that I didn’t give up on myself, but I acknowledge that I didn’t walk this path alone. My mother’s unwavering support, her whispered encouragements, and her steadfast belief in the possibility of living with cancer provided the foundation upon which I rebuilt my life. Most of the dreams we dared to share have now become a reality.

I’ve become a published author, employing my words to inspire and uplift others who navigate the treacherous terrain of cancer. I’ve become a beacon of hope within the cancer community, sharing my story as a testament to the existence of miracles, the boundless power of human resilience, and the vital significance of a support system during the darkest hours.

My journey stands as proof of the extraordinary strength within the human spirit and the transformative power of unwavering love and support, especially when confronted with the most daunting challenges. It serves as a reminder that in the face of adversity, it’s often the belief and encouragement of our loved ones that guide us through the storm and into the light.

Now, armed with my second chance at life, I’ve dedicated myself to raising awareness about rare diseases like Ewing Sarcoma. I serve on the board of directors for the Sarcoma Alliance, representing the voices of cancer patients and survivors in grant and clinical trial reviews for the Department of Defense. I also continue share my story for others who are feeling isolated and seek community through programs like Survivorship Today.

This story invites us all to look within ourselves and find the strength to face adversity head-on.

In the good ole words from my mother, “There are miracles every day. Why can’t you be one? Don’t you want to see how great it can get?”

Brandi Benson has shared her story far and wide,

through programs like Survivorship Today: What It’s Like to Live With Cancer from Bristol Myers Squibb, in the hopes of inspiring other cancer survivors to feel less alone and supported. She is also the author of a memoir, The Enemy Inside Me: A Young Soldier’s Unexpected Battle With Cancer.

You can follow Brandi on social media to stay up-to-date and learn more about her story: LinkedIn, Facebook and Instagram.