"When I received the diagnosis, I was living in Trento, I was 42 years old, and I had a 7-year-old child. Returning home, after that news, my first reaction was despair. Walking along the Adige river, I said to myself, "If I have a malignant tumor, it's better to die." Then I thought, "And what if there are possibilities of salvation?"
This positive approach helped me live through the illness better, with the desire, as a mother, to continue living for Nicola. I expected an attitude of understanding from my partner... Pure illusion. While I was doing chemotherapy, he was cheating on me with his lover, the woman he later married. In addition to the physical pain, there was also the pain of abandonment... I remember the first time I removed the bandage... Seeing half my breast made me feel like half a woman. I didn't accept myself and thought, how could another man ever accept me in this condition? That wound hurts both outside and inside... A great pain, but it makes us understand how much courage we women have compared to some men...
Fortunately, there are understanding men, like my father, Enzo Mirigliani... The day of my first surgery, holding my hand, he said a phrase that I cherish in my heart: "The idea of losing you makes me realize how much I haven't been close enough to you in these years." He was an extraordinary man who lived for his third daughter, Miss Italia... Yet, during my illness, he abandoned Miss Italia for me, showing me how truly important I was to him...
During the years of tranquillity, about 24 years, while I was regaining control of my life, the monster silently grew inside me again... During my sister's illness, also affected by breast cancer, I discovered I had a recurrence... Again, I fell into the tunnel of despair... I felt: betrayed, abandoned, vulnerable... I was forced to reopen a painful chapter of my life with enormous responsibilities, even greater than the first time. I had to re-process the illness at a different age and in a different condition, but I found the strength to move forward again.
I often think about of those women who didn't manage to win their battle, and I tell myself that if I've been through two cancers and I'm still here, perhaps I have a testament to leave. I did well not to give in to despair, I did well to fight the second time too, because I had to see the end of this story, but when I say this, I get scared, because its conclusion also concerns my life.