My main cancer treatment is over, and I’m glad to be finished with it. Life has kept me busy with other things since then, everyday things like work and family. I don’t think about cancer much any more–well, except when I take that little Tamoxifen pill every evening…or when I get dressed and glimpse the faded scar from surgery…or when I lift my arm and feel a twinge in the arm pit where muscles and nerves are still repairing themselves…or when anyone mentions cancer in any context…
Maybe I just dont want to think about cancer. When someone posts that thing on Facebook about “if you know someone with cancer, etc., etc., post this,” I never post it. When someone “likes” a cancer site or organization, I don’t “like” it. I don’t even wear the nice Susan G. Komen sweatshirt my husband gave me for Christmas. (I do plan to wear it once I actually walk in the Race for the Cure. There it would fit right in.) I guess I just don’t want to be associated with cancer any more. I just want to live a regular life and move on. And for the most part, I do and I have. But there will always be that little niggling uncertainty.
“I was so nervous the first time I had a mammogram after having breast cancer,” a friend at church told me. I wonder how I will feel when that time arrives. Will I be scared that something will show up? Or will I be able to keep trusting in God who has seen me through so far? Or will I be scared, but still trusting?–I suppose one doesn’t necessarily negate the other.
Life is full of uncertainties, and that will never change. I am just more aware of them now. Still, whatever happens, I refuse to be defined by my cancer. I am not a “cancer victim.” “Cancer survivor”–yeah, I can handle that. Person who had cancer–even better. Just plain me, with all the complexity that being human includes–best of all.
Have a great day! I plan to.