Cancer sucks! It really does. There is not one person in this world that would say cancer is a good thing to get. In three months I am nearing three years cancer free. That would be a celebration, my own personal happy dance, if I make it to that point and I am still cancer free. Those are the milestones to celebrate.
As I look over my past year, I’ve noticed a decline in my health. I still feel the same as I always have, but it seems my doctor’s visits have increased. I have seen my primary care doctor, a physical therapist, a physiatrist, a gynecologist, and my oncologist. It seems like those visits keep adding up on my calendar, taking over more space than they did the year before. I’m falling apart these days, and I’m only 36.
With one of my recent visits to my gynecologist reviewing some new ultrasound results, he made a comment to me that has rang true. “Cancer is like a black cloud over head; it follows you everywhere.” I couldn’t agree more. Every visit, every review of my symptoms, every test ordered is looked at in a different way, all because I have had cancer.
This black cloud that cancer produces immediately upon a cancer diagnosis is an enigma. It’s unwanted over my head. Everywhere I go, it follows me. But at times, it’s welcomed because it will leave no stone unturned when an issue arises.
How do you deal with this cloud that is so dark at times that it seems an umbrella is necessary? Does it depress you or do you develop an “it is what it is” attitude? Do others see this darkness trailing behind you as you move through your day? Will that cloud ever let the rays of sunshine escape through the gaps? All good questions and not one answer is the same for everyone.
I can honestly say my emotions are mixed. I hate cancer. I have seen far too many people I love be affected by it. I walk into my doctor’s appointments with that black cloud hovering above me. It’s always there! However, I also know that because I have had cancer that many of my health conditions will not be taken lightly. I will be provided care that otherwise would be thought of as next steps – three steps away. I am no longer an average person; I’m a cancer survivor. I’ll take that status, black cloud and all. Still sucks to have it, but I have accepted it. It’s my new life, a new way of living that just might never go away.
New posts every Monday and Wednesday.