Cancer Molded Me

Come and hear Michelle read her story at our upcoming Perkatory event on November 13th!

I don’t like talking about what I have lost from cancer because it is an enormous reminder that some abnormal cells in my body that I created, which are so tiny, have had such a humongous impact on my life forever. Cancer has taken something from every aspect of my life. From finances, to my ability to have children, to relationships. It’s stolen mobility and independence; it’s chosen where I can live, what I can eat, when I sleep, what activities I can participate in, and what ones I cannot. It has played a part in my career, hobbies, travel (or lack thereof), and success. There isn’t a decision I make in my daily life where cancer doesn’t play some part in the process. It’s frankly ridiculous and irks me at times.

If I had a magic wand, I would ask for my independence back. My independence holds great significance for me. I hugely valued just being able to get in the car, go anywhere, and do whatever I wanted, especially without having to over plan every step. Now I am tethered with a ball and chain called cancer. Spontaneity has died.

Many people may not know, but I have always wanted to be a mom. It’s what I was put on this Earth to do. Every Mother’s Day, Baptism, Baby Shower, major holiday, or kid’s birthday party is an excruciating reminder of what my body has failed to do and what has been taken from me. It’s a reminder of what I could have had, what I wanted, and what I needed. Don’t get me wrong, I also find joy in all of those events; however, I typically only express the joy. Cancer can teach you how to act.

I keep these feelings to myself and try not to complain; instead, I focus on the delicate dance of everyday life. I balance what I want to do with what I can do, sprinkling in a dash of hope and prayer. Some days things work out, and other days I discover an ability I have had starts to fall apart. All of this has forced me into a relationship with grief and loss; we are best friends.
You might be thinking, how can you be best friends with grief and loss? I have learned through therapy, research, interviews, writing, and so much more that you can’t escape grief and loss; it’s part of your life. You can either make friends with grief and loss or become enemies. I found having enemies to be exhausting. So now I invite grief and loss to sit beside me. We have critical conversations when needed at my own pace. Walking through the feelings and experiencing versus burying them and trying to ignore them.

Of course, when something takes, it can also give. Cancer has given me a voice. I have always been into advocacy, all the way back to high school (bust out the time machine), when I protested the teachers posting our grades with our names next to them outside the classrooms, which was against the law. I spoke up, made some noise, and changes were made, resulting in students having more privacy. However, cancer has amplified my advocacy, allowing me to speak to audiences I would have never imagined. I have traveled to Washington, D.C., and spoken with Congress. My testimony at the NH statehouse changed a pivotal vote in healthcare legislation. I have been part of five nationwide campaigns, spoken at rallies, and more. Cancer did all of that. If I hadn’t had cancer, I wouldn’t have been as brave or outspoken. This resilience and strength, gained from the experience of cancer, is something I hope can inspire others.
These are all strengths I never expected to have in my life: public speaking, politics, writing, and advocacy. The losses and gains don’t always feel balanced, but that is life – it’s forever changing. Your whole life can change in the matter of seconds. Cancer patients can really understand that.

Cancer has taught me a lot, too. It sounds clichéd, but it’s true. Values change, gratitude evolves, expectations shift, and our understanding of others changes. My most valuable lesson was to stop letting life’s petty stressors get to me. I used to have a bad day if I had a bad hair day. I would be legitimately upset and stressed about it all day. Now I am just grateful for hair and don’t care what others think.

Cancer changes perspectives. Outfits had to be put together well; discomfort didn’t matter, fashion did. Everything in its place, a perfectionist. I tossed that out the window. Now I am grateful that I have access to clean clothes (laundry is a tough chore). I now dress depending on my day. Going to have blood drawn, wear a t-shirt. Having an MRI done, dress warmly. I’m amazed at how having a bad outfit day used to ruin my entire day. This mindset continued into my young adulthood but now I see it as a waste of time and energy!!!!!!!!

The most valuable lesson I have learned from cancer is the profound empathy I feel for others on a level I never expected. A gratitude practice that holds significant meaning for me has developed, along with an appreciation for the small things, such as that hot cup of coffee on a chilly morning, a love for nature, and its power. Most importantly, saying what you want or need to say because you never know when you’ll see that person again. This emphasis on gratitude and empathy is something I hope can resonate with others, encouraging them to appreciate the small things and express their feelings more openly.

I don’t want anything back that cancer has taken, not even the chance of being a mother. Sounds stupid, I am sure, to some. However, it’s straightforward. Without experiencing the pain, grief, and loss, I would not have become a better person. I would still worry about bad hair days, chipped nails, and constantly striving for perfection. I wouldn’t take the time to experience the first bite of an apple of the season. Sit and enjoy the glorious crisp, fresh taste while that juice rolls down my chin. I would miss out on the enjoyment of those little moments with others, the special conversations, my heart wouldn’t be as big, and I wouldn’t love so hard. This acceptance of the changes brought by cancer is something I hope can reassure others, showing them that it’s possible to find peace and happiness even in the face of adversity.

Cancer may take, but if you pay attention, you can see all the ways it can give. I am not saying everyone should get cancer because it’s a party. I am saying if you have cancer, try to have an open heart for all that it brings.

*Featured photograph taken by author, Michelle Lawrence