A lot of people who have not been directly affected by cancer often ask "So are you in remission?"
None of my doctors use that term. None of my friends who've had cancer use that term. Unless you constantly have scans, xrays and blood tests, there's absolutely no way to know you are 100% cancer-free. How can you possibly know that there's not one teeny, tiny evil cancer cell somewhere in your body just waiting to wreak havoc? You can't.
I've never said I'm cancer-free. How can I determine when I beat cancer? Do I count from my last chemo treatment? Or the end of radiation? Or after any of my more than a handful of cancer-related surgeries? I have to take Tamoxifen, which is considered cancer treatment, for ten years. So am I not cancer-free until after that?
What we do say is we are "dancing with NED". You are wondering who the heck this Ned guy is? "No Evidence of Disease". Basically dancing with NED means no news is good news. So what I'm doing, what I've been doing for over 1800 days, is surviving... because every day I'm alive and well and dancing with NED is a day that I've kicked cancer's ass.
The day I was diagnosed with breast cancer, August 1, 2013, I became a cancer survivor.
Over the last 1796 days (I started counting on the day of my first chemo treatment) I have written some impressive blog posts (yes, if I do say so myself!). But none have been more meaningful to me than my "Survivor" posts:
One Year
Two Years
Three Years
Four Years
No matter how close you are to a person who has cancer, no matter how much you read or watch or listen about cancer, unless you've HAD cancer, you just don't know. You don't know that gut-wrenching feeling of hearing the three dreaded words: you have cancer. You don't know the horrifying feeling of being forty years old and wondering if you are going to die. You don't know the devastating feeling of telling your children you have cancer.
If you've never had to undergo chemotherapy, you just don't know. You don't know the feeling of nurses having to wear gloves because the medicine they are giving you is so toxic. You don't know the feeling of being so sick you can't even hold your head up. You don't know the feeling of having to shave your head because your hair is falling out in clumps. You don't know the feeling of eating the same stupid thing for days or weeks because it's the only thing you can keep down. You don't know the feeling of having mouth sores and a nasty taste in your mouth 24/7. You don't know the pain, the nausea....the overwhelming SICKNESS.
If you've never had radiation, you just don't know. You don't know the loneliness of being isolated in that radiation room every day for weeks. You don't know the indignity of lying there, exposed, day after day after day. You don't know the hassle of going to the cancer center every single day for six weeks. You don't know the bone-crushing fatigue that makes you feel like you don't even have the energy to brush your teeth. You don't know the worse than a sunburn shade of red that radiation turns your skin.
If you've never had cancer surgery, you just don't know. You don't know the feeling of going into an operating room knowing they are going to be removing important parts of your body. You don't know the pain and discomfort of a bilateral mastectomy, or a hysterectomy. You certainly don't know how incredibly difficult the recovery is for a ten hour reconstruction surgery that affects not one or two, but four different areas of your body. You don't know how much more difficult it is to bounce back after four, five, six, SEVEN surgeries.
I can talk about it all day long, but unless you've been through it, you just don't know.
What I have been through is nothing unique. There are millions of cancer patients and cancer survivors all over the world. Some have it easier than me, some have had a more difficult journey than I did. But what I have been through is unique TO ME. And I'm pretty damn proud of myself.
For the past five years I have been on an emotional roller coaster and an uphill physical battle. It's not over, and it may never be over. I'm not the same person I was before. But I'm still here. I'm happy & healthy despite the devastating effects of having cancer. I'm alive and well.... still kicking ass and taking names...five years later.
No comments:
Post a Comment