I don’t
like listening to documentaries or news stories about cancer “survivors” and
how their lives have been transformed for the better because of their
cancer. I try to avoid them. But today when I was in the shower a
documentary came on the radio about a man who was diagnosed with cancer when
his wife was 33 weeks pregnant with their second child, how he went through the
treatments and successfully “beat” cancer and underwent a complete lifestyle
change and he’s now a rockstar at enjoying life to the fullest.
I am not one of those people. I have not radically changed my lifestyle since I was diagnosed with cancer. I did not suddenly become a vegan or start running marathons. I haven’t travelled to exotic places on my “wishlist” or walked or biked across a continent. I haven’t become a super cancer fundraising organizer. Since my diagnosis 13 years ago, I’ve only attended one Relay for Life, because it was important to my daughter to see me walk the “Survivors’ Lap,” but even that one Relay was difficult. Events like this always feature stories about the amazing things that cancer “survivors” have accomplished. I don’t necessarily believe that’s a bad thing. But that is not me. I haven’t accomplished anything amazing because of my cancer diagnosis and I’m not much of a “rockstar” at anything.
My entire life has been footnoted at key times by cancer. My mom had 5 surgeries for breast cancer. Her first mastectomy was when I was a young child. Once I had just left home to go to school. She had cancer again just before I got married, and then just before my first child was born; the doctor I worked for at the time removed her sutures when she came for the birth. My own cancer was diagnosed the week after my dad died suddenly. The shock was not THAT I was diagnosed, but WHEN I was diagnosed. So yes, cancer has deeply affected my whole life. And it continues to affect me, daily when I take my medication and see my scars, when I have infusions and MRIs and mammograms and doctor’s appointments, and every single time I hear of a friend, relative, neighbour, or community member who has been diagnosed with or died of cancer.
I really dislike the terms “cancer survivor” and “beating” cancer. They imply weakness on the part of those who don’t “survive.” But I think the ones who don’t survive, and their families, are much, much stronger than those of us who come out the other side. I have not fought this battle and won. This is not a game to be played, and really, in the end, most of the time, we have very little say in whether or not we will “win” the battle. Unlike a war or a football game, there is no strategy that we can draw up on paper with x’s and o’s that will guarantee a “victorious” outcome if we do certain things. I have had surgery and treatments that, fortunately or providentially, have “cured” my cancer, at least for now, and enabled me to continue to live my life. I remember discussing my treatment options with my oncologist: chemotherapy, radiation, medication, eventual amputation of my breast(s). I said to him at the time, “There’s no guarantee, right? I could have all the treatments and still have a recurrence, or I could have no treatment at all and never have cancer again. It’s really a total crap shoot, isn’t it?” He agreed.
In saying
this, I’m not discouraging people from having treatment, or from changing their
lifestyles to be more healthy. I am
fully aware of the fact that there are lifestyle changes that can reduce the
odds of developing cancer. And maybe I’m
looking at this the wrong way, but to me, that’s what they are: odds. Especially if you, like me, are genetically
predisposed to develop cancer.
I do appreciate the cycles of life more, I think, and I am aware that every spring (and summer and autumn and winter) could be my last spring (or summer or autumn or winter), depending on what my body’s cells decide they are going to do. So maybe the biggest gift that cancer has given me is that it has taught me to try to intentionally appreciate each day and each season, and to try to find some beauty in every day that I’m on this earth, no matter how bad a day it might seem. And most importantly, it has given me love and appreciation for the people in my life who are always there for me, most especially my family.
For today, then, I am going to enjoy the beautiful things around me: the birds (mostly finches) twittering outside my windows, the sun breaking through the clouds, and the evidence in my surroundings that the circle of life does indeed continue to turn.
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
-- Joni Mitchell
* I do want to add a disclaimer. This is how I have navigated my personal experience with cancer. If it isn't your way, that's okay. If you're a cancer rockstar survivor, that's fabulous, but that's your experience. I'm not criticizing it, I'm sharing my own personal feelings. There are no right or wrong feelings when it comes to dealing with cancer or any other traumatic illness. Love to all.
