If you want to test your memory, try to recall what you were worrying about one year ago today.
E Joseph Cossman
"I can't see how it's not cancer."
That's how my day went, one year ago today. My cancerversary.
I had figured out that I had some sort of cancer before I got that casual confirmation. Everything I'd read said either an infection or cancer. Infection had already been ruled out. I don't know if my knowing affected my reaction as much as one would think. That dramatic surprise wasn't there, but like a lot of people, I sit in every doctor's office certain that they're going to find something horrible. Sucks being right sometimes.
Of course, knowing makes no difference in how you go from there. You just have to deal with it as long as you can until it's done. If I had to sum it all up, that's how I'd describe my experience with surgery and treatment and the permanent effects of treatment. Endurance. That necessity of life in general, enhanced a bit. Quite a bit at first, but now it's slowed to a steady pace and it's just another thing to deal with like brushing your teeth twice a day, plus.
That's kind of a good analogy, actually. I used to brush my teeth twice a day, sometimes three. Now I have to brush my teeth four or five times a day, at least. No saliva and stuff. I used to be able to wolf down a slice of pizza in about 30 seconds if I was in a hurry. Now, one slice is a half hour affair and it's cold and I'm bored and tired of chewing by the then.
But this wasn't meant to be a gripey post. I'm grateful to be here, one year later, to be able to write this. The support that friends and family and complete strangers, and even Pizza Hut gave me didn't kill the cancer, but they saved my heart and mind from certain collapse. My parents did what parents are supposed to do and took care of me. Babied me, almost, highlighting how amazing they are, sharper against the dimness of the many horrible families I've known.
It's 366 because of Leap Year, in case you're wondering.
2 comments:
Congrats Guy!
You are a strong individual. Not everyone completes their treatments. They have their own reasons and I have to respect that. I think for some its just too hard. But YOU went through it and came out the other side. YOU made it! A year ago I was still living in a fog from all the pain killers, but I was finished with my treatments and waiting for my first petscan. :D Inge
I still don't think the pain-killers did much at all for me, not even the morphine. The only day that's fuzzy is the first out of surgery.
I do think that my treatment, though they told me it was one of the roughest there is, was easier than some. Maybe because I'm younger than most, or my immune system helped a lot or whatever. Either way, I don't feel like it was un-manageable, and I know my experience couldn't have been that bad in comparison to a lot of people's. Ironically, that knowledge helps me a bit, knowing I have gotten off easy so far.
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