Resilience and Reinvention
Terry Healey
The author with his wife.
I awoke from an eleven-hour surgery at UCSF to find that my head and neck surgeon had removed not only half of my nose but also half of my upper lip, muscle and bone from my right cheek, the shelf of my right eye, six teeth, and part of my hard palate. I was attached to my chest with a delto-pectoral flap because so much tissue had been removed from my face.
Leading up to that surgery my life was smooth sailing. I was a junior at UC Berkeley. Many considered me handsome, and a few years earlier while in high school, I was even the homecoming prince. I would have to learn that life wasn’t going to be about becoming the ‘old Terry’ again – it was going to be about transformation and reinvention instead.
Six months prior to that surgery, my right nostril had begun to flare out. I felt a bump pushing against the inside of my right nostril. I made an appointment to see an ENT specialist. He finally suggested a biopsy when it was still there three weeks later.
It turned out that I had a malignant maxillary tumor, a rare fibrosarcoma. I would later discover how lucky I was that I got the right diagnosis. The bulk of the tumor was removed during the biopsy, but I underwent surgery to clear any remaining tumor cells. Fortunately, the procedure was minor, and I returned to classes looking like I had been in a fight with someone, not something.
I started taking life for granted again. But as the new school year began, I discovered a new lump in the same nostril. Numerous specialists confirmed that my tumor had spread. Prescribing more surgery, my doctor warned me that I might lose part of my nose and my right eye, but his main concern was saving my life. The notion of disfigurement was devastating.
As I re-entered the world after five surgical procedures to confirm I had clear margins, my life suddenly seemed so different. I noticed people staring and children pointing—and sometimes giggling—at me. My hospital room had protected me; outside of it, I was vulnerable and exposed. Of course, I cared what other people thought of me; I relished the admiring looks the old Terry had received. I was petrified of potential reactions to the new Terry.
(Image right: Terry in 1984 after his recurrence and major surgery.)
During the following months, I encountered many uncomfortable stares that left an indelible mark on my psyche. Even worse, extensive radiation treatment, followed by forty-eight hours of iridium seed implants began to shrink my facial tissue, magnifying my deformity. My self-esteem sank increasingly lower.
Five years and twenty-five reconstructive surgeries later, I was still plagued with insecurity. During my last reconstructive procedure, I met a woman receiving treatment for cervical cancer at my hospital. We began dating, but after hearing me ask—for the umpteenth time—how she felt about my looks, she ripped into me. The bulk of my problem, she informed me, was not my physical appearance, but my emotional insecurity. Her honesty helped me realize that my internal scars were far more disfiguring than my physical ones on the outside ever were. Once I got over the devastation that she was no longer interested in me, I began to realize how lucky I was that she had highlighted my greatest weakness. With gratitude for her powerful words and a newfound perspective, I realized that surgery wasn’t something I could control. What I could control was focusing on rebuilding what was inside.
I began examining myself from the inside out and used prayer and support from loved ones to boost my spirit and self-esteem. I found the courage to share my vulnerabilities in support groups. That was liberating. With time, my emotional pain subsided.
When I eventually began to feel content with who I was as a person again, I realized I had transformed myself into someone I was proud of because of the wisdom I felt I gained along the way. Over time, no one seemed to stare at me. I guess when you carry yourself with confidence, people don’t notice our differences as much. I married a wonderful woman, built a high-tech career and became a professional speaker.
I wouldn’t trade my experience for anything. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone either. But my battle scars remind me every day of the wisdom and resilience I’ve gained, and the purpose I have found.
(Terry’s latest book.)
About the Author
Terry Healey is a storyteller who helps teams build resilience, gain confidence, and fuel growth. Terry is an award-winning author, keynote speaker, and business strategist. For more information visit http://www.terryhealey.com.
Terry shares ways to take control, overcome challenges, build trust and teams, embrace change, and learn the value of acceptance and tolerance. Terry views the lessons he learned as gifts, and believes his greatest reward is being able to teach others how to overcome any kind of adversity and celebrate life.