My Journey from Cancer Diagnosis to Touring Musician

For me, the diagnosis was like hitting a wall that would divide my life as I knew it. It happened just when I was having the most productive time of my life—writing a book, learning music, and influencing people on social media. I was on a roll. Then I got a phone call from my husband with the news. The big “C” word. I have Breast Cancer.

After the first shock, I was muted and numbed. I guess the first challenge when you learn you have cancer is to admit it to yourself. “You took it better than me,” my sweet husband said, not knowing that in fact I hadn’t really absorbed the idea.

I’m going to be brutally honest with you. The diagnosis did not come at the happiest time of my life. I was depressed. Although I was very productive in my work, I felt empty. Mistakes from my distant past kept haunting me. Shame and sadness filled my lungs. I was constantly fighting with my decisions and my inside voice would say the worst things about me.

And now there was a whole new avenue for me to cross. Decisions. Should I do a mastectomy or a lumpectomy? What kind of chemo? We need a second opinion. Would I lose all my hair? How do I tell my friends and family? 

I decided to take it one step at a time. First, it was surgery. I had a great team of doctors so I went home on the same day, and with painkillers. Next was the chemo. I think that was the most difficult part. Every three weeks I’d go back to the clinic to receive the medication through an infusion. The following days I was so nauseated that I couldn’t even enjoy the smell of food. My energy was very low and I needed to nap often. My hair got thinner. Some friends stayed, some left, and some new ones arrived. People reacted differently, while some people wanted to help, others were afraid or didn’t know what to do when faced with such a tragedy.

It wasn’t until my third round of chemo that I fully understood what it meant to have breast cancer and the impact that it would have on the rest of my life.

The chunks of hair resting on my pillow, the floor, the shower drain, and the excruciating stomach pains in the morning—it was a cruel awakening. 

One thing I can say to you is this: Cancer is not pink. It is dark and lonely. 

So how did I crawl out of this hole?

For me, it was music. As soon as I was able to get out of that bed I grabbed my bass and started to play my music.. What was happening to me was the end, but it was also a beginning. It was a slap in the face but it was also a chance to look deep inside myself, maybe for the first time. 

Playing reminded me of dreams I had kept in the closet for so many years, and being able to create during my battle was very motivating.

The idea of playing bass guitar to a packed soccer stadium was not on my radar. I play as a hobby. I started to learn to play bass guitar three years ago, a little before the pandemic and after 50 years old. The truth is that I have an artist soul. I am a dreamer and a doer. And when I saw the advertisement for Rockin’1000 searching for musicians to play in their world tour, I got all excited. Would that be possible? Would they take me? A little voice inside me said “The time is NOW.”

It’s 3:58 in the morning, my alarm clock goes off, and as quickly as I can I turn it off and sit on my bed. In 2 minutes the registration to perform in Madrid with the biggest band in the world will open and I cannot miss it. If you don’t know what I am talking about, Rockin’1000 is a concert performed around the world by a band of 1,000 musicians.

If you haven’t heard of this incredible band, here is some of their story.

In 2015, a young man named Fabio Zaffagnini decided to produce a music video where 1,000 musicians would play The Foo Fighters song. The goal was to get the band’s attention and get them to perform live in Cesena. A successful crowdfunding campaign and the widely shared video caught David Groll’s eye and he included the Italian city on their 2015 world tour. “Millions and millions of people saw what you did. It’s a beautiful thing,” said the band frontman at the highly anticipated performance that included 27 songs. 

After their success, Rockin’1000 has performed live concerts around the world to sold-out stages and produced many viral music videos. To be part of the band, the professional or amateur musician needs to submit a video. Once they are accepted, it is a first come, first serve enrollment for their concerts.

I guess that explains why I was awake at 4 AM logging in from my phone to what appeared to be a massive dream. The button pops up: SUBSCRIBE. As quickly as I can I hit it. I put the phone on the side table and try to go back to sleep. It feels like I have run a marathon. I look at it again. Nothing. Pillow talk again. At 4:30 I log in and here it is: CONFIRMED. What?? I think, seriously? I need to talk to someone. My husband is sound asleep and I don’t want to bother him with my dreams. My sister is in London. It’s 11 AM there…

“GIIII!! Guess what?? I will play with the biggest band on earth!!!!”

So this is where everything started. I’m crazy, I think. 

I recently finished my last round of chemo for breast cancer and I’m exhausted. I should also mention I only started playing after 50! How am I getting there? Where am I staying? Will I be able to keep up? How many songs? Should I take the leap of faith?

A chill runs up my spine while my stomach tightens. All these questions popped into my head and robbed me of sleep for several days.

But despite all my fears (including a fear of flying), I hopped on a plane to meet 999 strangers on another continent, for the biggest rock concert of my life. 

My brain starts to jump in anticipation. Just like when I got my first bike, that feeling of learning how to ride for the first time took over my soul. I felt free. The world was mine and all I needed to do was let go of my fears. As The Foo Fighters’ song “Learn to Fly” says, “Make my way back home when I learn to fly high!” 

So how do you learn to fly? You practice. 

I spent at least 4 hours each day memorizing and learning the songs for the concert. I joined Zoom rehearsals with my fellow musicians in different countries, timing our playing to a click track. I locked myself away and played until my hands were sore.

Did I think about giving up? Many times! But something just kept me going. The feeling of freedom, the idea of pursuing a dream long buried in the doubts of my past self.

But hardly ever in life do things go according to plan. 

To add to my anxiety, I got a throat infection 4 weeks prior to my departure. It took me 5 rounds of antibiotics to be able to go on that trip. I did not know if I was going to be able to go until the last minute. 

“I have to be there!” I told my doctor who stared at me without saying a word.

As a warrior, I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way. I arrived in Madrid, Bass Guitar on my back, Amp, suitcase, performance outfit, and an equipment cart to help me move around the airport and the stadium carrying my home with me.

I didn’t know what to expect. I was alone, didn’t speak the language, and still coming off of antibiotics. 

But the minute I rolled my cart into the stadium I felt like I was home. There was this overwhelming feeling of belonging. I’d never felt this way before. Not with friends, not with family.

Among us musicians and concert producers, there was no judgment. You could be whoever you are without fear. You could roll up in a Mercedes or show up to the concert in jeans and a t-shirt or dressed as Pokémon—nobody would treat you differently. You did not need to ask for anything, we were all in the same boat and ready to offer a helping hand.

The first days of rehearsals were intense. We arrived at 8 AM and left at midnight. Then there was the rain that forced us to cover everything and wait inside just to be out there in 90-degree temperatures and under a burning sun. More than just playing our instruments, there was a lot of physical activity. But somehow I felt strong like my soul was made of stone. I carried everything in and out with no problem.

Sleeping was probably one of my biggest challenges. I couldn’t turn off my brain after a full day of playing to a click track. That’s how you get everyone to play together and on the beat. 

TICK-TICK-TICK. Shake your grandmother! Silence, everybody! Supermassive Black Hole!

Yes, they had fun phrases at the top of each track to help get us in the mood. That’s all I could hear as I tossed and turned all night. Then I’d get up and do it all over again. 

But it was so worth it. The day of the concert was surreal. There we were, all 1,000 of us bandmates sharing the same dream. Dressed up as Freddy Mercury, Pokémon, jeans and a t-shirt, and me in my pink sparkles.

Just like at the amusement park plummeting down and back up on the rollercoaster, my stomach twitched. There was the possibility of rain during the concert and because of all electricity involved with this production, we would need to stop playing. The maestro tells us just before the concert, in case of rain we will shorten it and change the order of the songs. 

It’s almost time for the concert. I have to pee. Again. I turn to my new friend Alma to tell her for the millionth time. She’s a blind bass player, by the way. I met her on Whatsapp right after I joined the band and did not know about her challenges until I met her. 

10 minutes to start. It was the 10 longest minutes of my life. Fabio walks among us and gives everyone a high five. My heart speeds. 

“Walk with me to the stage,” Alma says. And before anyone else entered the field the two of us walkwalked together, slowly listening to 40,000 audience members shouting.

I go to my place. I grip Rita tightly. Rita is one of my bass guitars. and it was named after one of my favorite musicians of all time, Rita Lee.

The concert starts. Enter Sandman was our first song and as it says in the first verse, “Say your prayers, little one, don’t forget, my son, to include everyone!”

As the concert proceeds, I leave my own body. I wasn’t afraid anymore but taken by the music. The audience, my bandmates, the production team—we were just one big ball of energy. 

I blinked and it was over. The two-hour concert felt like 15 minutes.

Our last song was a Jimmy Hendrix and Led Zepplin medley. Communication Breakdown was the last song. As we played our last note, confetti flew from the field and onto our heads.

Everyone just started to run like crazy on the big field just like soccer players when they score a goal. I could hear my sister screaming in the audience taken by her emotions seeing her big sister perform for the first time. 

As Fabio said in their last concert in Brazil: “The biggest and most powerful dreams are collective and will be reached if we are together.”

Needless to say, I have a little post-show depression but a huge sense of accomplishment. Now I’m ready for the next adventure. 

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