Some Days.....

Some days, I don’t even think about it.  Some days, I think that how I processed what happened is the best way to cope.  Most days, I just accept that period and its resulting permanent disability and limitations as part of my life and move on.  Every day, I am glad to have had it happen to me.  I was able to find the inner strength within myself to fight.  We all have that inner strength.  When we are handed a life-altering curve ball, all we can do is swing and see what we’re made of. 

Today, November 11, marks the seven year anniversary of my cancer remission.  At five years, I was officially declared CURED of Ewing’s Sarcoma.  Most years, Matt and I don’t make much of a deal of it.  We acknowledge it and then move on.  A few years, it even passed without us even realizing it.  That’s because I don’t celebrate it one day a year.  I celebrate every day and will for the rest of my life.  They caught my disease early enough that I could survive it.  This second chance at life WILL NOT go to waste.

Four weeks into remission: Christmas 2005.

Last Thursday, while I was at the doctor’s office being allergy tested, the technician reviewed my medical history.  The only drug I am allergic to is an anti-nausea drug that was given during chemotherapy.  She asked about the reaction I got then, what I had and when, the usual questions I get.  I showed her my arm:  the long, serpentine scar along the top from wrist to elbow; the scar on the underside; the tiny one-bone forearm.  Then she told me her own story, one that included breast cancer and a mastectomy.  Suddenly, two complete strangers were united by one of the worst things possible: life-threatening illness. 

We kept the topic light, talking about how we were annoyed our leg hair returned far sooner than that on top of our head, neither of us willing to go into the scary parts.  I often have to keep myself from getting emotional when I encounter other survivors.  I know exactly how awful and terrifying it is and don’t tear up for myself, but for the others out of profound sympathy and respect.  But then I remember something, we belong to a more important club, one of survivorship.  That’s what stops me, the bright end at the end of the darkness.  It awakens an appreciation for life that few others understand.

Every day, I am thankful to be a cancer survivor.