By: Asa Rosema, 32, Breast Cancer

I was disabled before cancer.

I am autistic. I was late to walk, late to talk, and I struggled in a world that was not made for me. It was too fast-paced, too loud, too chaotic. And for many years, I blamed myself for my difficulties. Until I was diagnosed with autism when I was 14 years old.

Learning about my disability allowed me not only to adapt but to embrace it; I learned to use my strengths to compensate for my challenges. I learned what accommodations worked for me and how to advocate for myself.

Then, at 30 years old, I was diagnosed with cancer. I had to add navigating illness and physical limitations on top of living with a developmental disability. I brought support people with me to appointments and chemo treatments to help ask questions and remember what was said. I was gifted a Fuck Cancer planner that I used to track symptoms, write down questions for my oncologists, and record their answers. I brought sensory fidgets with me anytime I needed blood drawn or my port accessed because they provided a necessary sensory distraction so I could tolerate the needles. I set up a page on my communication app specifically for clinic days because I can lose verbal speech in high stress situations. Trust me, cancer treatment definitely qualifies!

I had to learn to accept help again. I had worked so hard to be independent. Sure, it took me longer but I was able to live independently, work full time, and have a small but good social life. Cancer meant I had to get additional accommodations at work and reduce my schedule because I was literally working myself sicker. I was stuck at home more because of fatigue and a compromised immune system. I relied on my family to bring me groceries and medications. I lived with my parents for over a week after my surgery so they could help me with basic activities of daily living like getting dressed and cooking.

Today I’m nearly a year out of active treatment and I am dealing with long term side effects of cancer treatment. I’m still working on getting back to my “Before Cancer” levels of physical activity. I have more difficulty remembering short term information and I am constantly losing my train of thought of what I want to say or do as I’m in the middle of doing things. Chemo brain continues long after finishing chemotherapy.

The “After Cancer” is not easy and I will have to deal with these struggles for the rest of my life. But I know how to recognize my challenges and I find ways to “accommodate” them. I am disabled but I am not less.