On Feb 2, 1973 I earned the title "daughter".
On Oct 15, 2001 I earned the title "wife".
On Nov 28, 2001 I earned the title "mom".
On Aug 1, 2013 I earned the title "breast cancer survivor".
Seven years ago today, I heard the dreaded words "you have cancer".
I knew it before the doctor called, but I can still hear her voice on the phone telling me "it's not good."
Most people I know count their "survivorship" time from when they had surgery, or when they finished chemotherapy.... some point that they can say their cancer was gone.
Maybe I'm superstitious, but I have never tried to figure out a date to mark when I became cancer free. Supposedly after sixteen weeks of chemo treatments, the cancer was on its way out. Surely after my surgery, it was gone. And just in case, I'm pretty sure 33 radiation treatments probably killed any that was left.
However, even now, after so many years, there's always the worry that there's some little tiny evil cancer cell lurking somewhere in my body, making me NOT cancer free.
My breast surgeon told me that the day I was diagnosed, I became a survivor. So instead of counting my cancer-free days, I count the days of being a survivor.
Cancer changes a person. Fear takes over your life. Your future becomes unknown.
You stop taking things for granted.
"Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a GIFT.
That's why it's called the present."
Every day is a gift. Even the ones where I was sick, or bald, or in pain. Even the ones where I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. Even the ones where I couldn't eat. Even the ones where I had to drive three hours for yet another doctor appointment. Even the ones where I had to undergo yet another surgery (eight and counting). Even the days where I thought "I just can't".... it turns out I could!
Life after cancer is different, but it can be glorious.
Seven years ago, I was so incredibly afraid that my husband and kids were going to have to say goodbye to me. I was so afraid that I was going to miss out on so much of their childhood. Seven years ago I never would've believed that I'd be around to see my son graduate high school. Seven years ago I never expected I'd be here alive and well to enjoy all of my daughter's high school "firsts". Seven years ago I never would have imagined having the time to drag Hubby to the beach for a week's vacation!
My mind isn't as sharp and my attention span is zilch (thank you, chemo brain).
My body is scarred, and doesn't look or feel the same.
I developed lymphedema (swelling which requires constant compression) thanks to the removal of all of the lymph nodes under my arm during my mastectomy.
My joints hurt, I can't sleep well and my restless legs are worse than ever.
I still have multiple doctor appointments every year, and "scanxiety" is very much a real thing.
The fear is always there. My mother-in-law was cancer-free for ten years before she passed away when it returned. My "second mom" Barb thought she had "beat" it. My BFF Trudy certainly didn't expect it to come back and take her life before she turned 50.
Maybe my time is limited...or maybe I'll live to be a very old woman.
Only God knows. All I know is that I'll continue to kick cancer's ass every single day.
I'm proud of myself, and I'm so grateful for everyone who has gotten me through the last seven years. My hubby has been my rock. My kids are the most resilient and thoughtful human beings. My friends have stepped up whenever I needed them to. And my mother has been my biggest cheerleader. I couldn't do this without my village.
