03781 - Plainfield, N.H.
Betsy Duany lives in Plainfield with her husband Patrick, daughter Allison, 7, and son Andrew, 5. The following is an edited interview.
I was 26 when I was diagnosed. The doctor handed me a box of Kleenex before she told me and I thought, "Uh, oh, this can't be good." I didn't know anything about breast cancer, but I knew I was going to be losing a lot of mobility in my right side.
After seven surgeries, most of my muscles were just shot. I would push myself with the exercises, and it would hurt, but I was determined to start juggling to build the strength back up.
The Bell’s Palsy came six years later, paralyzing half of my face. That hit me harder than the breast cancer because people would stare at me. I had to clown with it, otherwise I’d end up in tears. I’d put my hand in front of the middle of my face and say "Happy, sad, happy, sad." I wanted to laugh, that was my way of dealing with it.
Because of the chemo and the radiation, we were told that children were not an option. The doctors said it wouldn’t happen, but I was determined. I visualized cancer cells like juggling balls, then I imagined white blood cells like snowballs building up to get rid of them. The nurse came back and said, "Your white count went up." I imagined protecting my body so we could have kids. I guess it worked; we’ve got two.
In the circus, you are not allowed to say the word "can’t." That's a naughty word. You say it, and it's five push-ups right then and there. But if you take a positive attitude, you can do anything.
On TV if you drop a club they edit it out. Sure, you see all the show girls in the circus and you think they make it look so easy. But this is real life. Things fall down around you, and you’ve just got to pick them up and keep going.
The circus is so much more than juggling or working the rola bola. It’s about having confidence and determination while being silly and laughing about life.
There is a discipline to the circus, and once you understand it, you can do anything.