There were times when no one was around that Connie Coleman would place her head on her desk.

There were times she went to the washroom and felt intense nausea.

Those are the times — the bad times endured while undergoing cancer treatments — that might make some people want to give up.

Not Coleman.

“It reminded me I was still here — why I was still alive,” she says.

The Westinghouse Electric Company executive assistant beat breast cancer in 2006 after a rough eight-month fight with the disease that involved all the bad stuff that goes with trying to cure it — chemotherapy, hair loss, skin discoloration and waves of nausea.

Co-worker and human resources generalist Monique Johnson nominated the 10-year cancer survivor to be recognized as a company Wellness Champion.  

“Connie is a great person and a fighter if I have ever seen one,” Johnson says. “My eyes are sweating just a tad just thinking about how much of a survivor she is. She has been cancer free for a couple of years now but her weight loss has been the most recent wellness initiative she has taken on. She also still volunteers at many cancer centers and different organizations across our city and will always share her story. She is the testament of a true survivor … A true Wellness Champion.”

Coleman, of Charlotte, turned 59 in November. Through the ordeal, she had just one day where she felt she couldn’t take it.

“It just hit me,” she says. “Everything was shaky and scary. I cried. I felt sorry for myself. It was a one-day pity party. But that was it — only one day.’’

Most of the time, she was just happy to be alive.

“It was traumatic, but not as traumatic as I thought,” she says. “I cut my hair before. I was able to wear a wig and no one at work even knew what I was going through unless I told them. I went to work every day like it was a normal day. I couldn’t sit at home and just wallow.’’

Coleman’s ordeal ended around Thanksgiving in 2006, and she came out of the experience a new person.

“I figured God must have had a plan for me to keep me alive,” she says. “So I started pushing myself.’’

Years ago, Coleman was afraid to speak in public or fly in an airplane. Now, it’s a typical occurrence for her to board a plane and travel to speak and present workshops about cancer.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m afraid,” she says. “It doesn’t matter what the situation is. I’m going to take my fear and use it in a positive way.’’

The day Coleman found a lump in her breast and was told it was serious, she wasn’t worried about herself as much as she was for her 11 grandchildren from her children, Kelli, Kevin and Kerri.

“I wasn’t dead — I was alive,” Coleman says. “As long as I’m alive, I’m going to be alive. The glass is half full. That’s what I teach my children and grandchildren. I just smile all the time at everyone. Yes, I get mad, but not for long. I don’t like all of that negative energy. ’’