Rajaverse

With all the energy within and around us, I get to have concentrated X-ray energy beamed towards my left chest this week. This week will mark one of five for my post-breast cancer radiotherapy.

My cancer story begins on one fateful day, August 26, 2022. Just the day before, for the first time in my 45 years of life, I pushed all fear of judgment on me by my mom aside, I made myself vulnerable, and I shared my long 3-1/2-year ordeal with IVF. Clearing the air and feeling elated to finally share something uninhibited with her, I told my mom that my routine sonogram on my left breast will be fine as cancer does not run in our family. But it was not fine. I was told the very next day that I had breast cancer. And, to think, just a month ago I was rated “top of health class” by my life insurance provider! How could this possibly be?!

Fast-forward to this week, five months later, post-lumpectomy, I am getting X-rayed. Maybe shooting radiation my way will give me superpowers?

This past Christmas, I made a pilgrimage through my birth town of Taipei, Taiwan to be with my mom, brothers, sisters-in-law and their newborns and toddlers. It was three years since I last saw them in person, and I missed them terribly and savored every moment, soaked in every second, as even a million moments would still not enough to fill my heart’s void.

We started at our first temple, right next to the night market. As far back as I can remember, I always felt calm and safe there. All the deities were there to protect me, and they gave me a warm, tingly feeling inside my belly. I prayed for health, for having a baby one day, and for financial security. With all the buddhas there, I basked in their collective love and protection. At this temple I asked the buddhas if my health will improve and I will soon find myself free of cancer? Their answer to me was:

“”

The day after Christmas, we visited the second temple, my mom’s most frequented temple near my dad’s old office. It was built between two older buildings on a semi-busy city street. Every temple in Taiwan was built at an auspicious location and time. You would not expect a calming temple in the middle of a busy city, but this is the sort of thing that pervades Taipei’s city streets–quiet respites from everyday life, places of spiritual solitude and reflection. Taiwan is a country deeply rooted in Buddhist tradition, flowering with temples in the most unexpected places–Easter eggs of sorts.

It was a quiet Monday morning and the sun was out, very rare for a winter day in Taipei. My mom and I worked with the spiritual volunteers there to submit our birth dates and times in their registry in order that we could bless our family for the new year of the rabbit. My mom has done this for decades, and we have received many blessings throughout the decades. With blessings first come hardships, but with hope and faith my family has always emerged with limbs intact, stronger. The master monk blessed us with a long Buddhist ceremony, full of beautiful Sanskrit chants, prayers, holy water and hope. I prayed to the gods for good health, getting rid of cancer forever, giving birth soon, and having job security.

We visited our third temple a week later with my younger brother and sister-in-law, and her dad and my mom. This temple rests at the east side of the city, where there used to be a lot of restaurants and bars. In the 60’s and 70’s that was the hot part of town, where my parents used to go on dates. There are still some hidden gems there now, but it’s been years since I’ve gone there. Though it was smaller than the first, this temple felt incredibly majestic. There was a koi pond on the left side of the grand entrance, and there were two kids looking at the koi fish, which reminded me of my older brother and me when we were eight and four. Koi fish still enchant me to this day. Sometimes I feel like their souls are the gods in these temples, in the flesh.

There is nothing like praying with your loved ones. I felt everyone’s support, warming and illuminating my soul, and I could see the heavens where the buddhas were, looking down at us, helping us mortals to weave through this winding road of life.

The next temple my sister-in-law Sophie’s dad’s wealth temple. It was just the four of us there on a sunny and beautiful day, and all of our energies collectively prayed for financial wealth and security. I can remember how powerful that energy was, and the wealth gods listened to us and sprinkled gold dust on our heads.

Fast-forward to New York after my three weeks in Taiwan, and I am about to go to my first radiation appointment. On Tuesday, January 17, I am ready to be zapped, to kill all these cancer cells! I was nervous and scared, but being told that radiotherapy would further lower my chance of recurrence from 26% to 6% was overwhelmingly comforting. Thank you, science! With my worried but ready mind, I started my day.

At 11am, I received a call from Cornell Medical Center. My heart raced with anticipation: could this be THE CALL? The nurse sounded so kind on the phone. “I have good news: we found you a donor!” I was in the middle of a work meeting, and I had to excuse myself into another room to contain my excitement. YES!!! I could not believe it. On the first day of my radiation, the gods answered my prayers for a baby! This news could not come at a more fitting time. What a way to encourage me to stay positive throughout my radiation treatment. This was nothing short of a miracle as finding donor eggs takes, on average, 12-18 months or longer, particularly when Asian donors are sought. There are far less Asian donors in the United States than other races.

Our donor is 29 years old, the same age I was 16 years ago when I donated my eggs to NYU. Her eggs were retrieved when she was 28 years old, and we will get eight frozen oocytes. Not only was our donor at an age so ripe for egg donation, but the best part is that she is Japanese! For my whole life I have been mistaken for Japanese, and my paternal Japanese grandma grew up during the Japanese era in Taiwan. She used to speak and sing to me in Japanese. My first nursery song was “Momotoro San.” My grandma’s soul is in these eggs–I just know it. This is such a huge step forward. Thank you, to this anonymous kind lady for donating, and for helping other women fulfill their family dreams. THANK YOU!!!

I paid $14k for these eggs. My $25K grand piano cost more, but is not worth anything close to this priceless gift we just received. Ladies, if you take nothing else away from this blog, take this one lesson to heart, please: Buy yourself insurance by freezing your eggs before the age of 35. It is the modern world now, and women can have a fulfilling career and raise a family, too. You do not have to chose one over the other. Save up for this as it will be the best investment you will ever make.