Survivorship

Hindsight: I Get It Now, Mom

Not too long ago, I had the, “I Totally Understand Cancer Because Both of My Parents Had Cancer” mindset. This arrogance began soon after my mom was diagnosed with Stage 3 Ovarian Cancer in 2008. My ignorance unfortunately lasted for over a decade but was thankfully interrupted by my own cancer diagnosis.

The Ghosts of Cancer That Haunt Us

I think of supporting our cancer patients and survivors who have dealt with the Ghosts of Cancer by showing how we can deal with our own Ghosts of cancer to our cancer patients and survivors. When they are experiencing cancer and grieving losing their relationship with their spouses, siblings, and family members or losing someone who had cancer, it can be very painful. 

The Club That No One Wants to Join

“Remember when it was impossible to get toilet paper?” 

I was sitting around the lunch table with my coworkers, and the conversation had turned to the early days of the COVID pandemic. As teachers, everyone had a unique story about how they were all of a sudden working remotely, managing their own families behind the scenes, while trying to teach a class of elementary students online.

Long Progression

“I’d really just like to feel like me.”

That was my go-to answer. Just wanting to feel like me.

When my cancer was first diagnosed, I felt like my body betrayed me. The only thing I knew had started working against me and now I was left with a fierce mistrust that followed throughout my treatments, surgeries, recoveries, and everything after.

Cancer Ghosts of the Past, Present, and Future

My ghosts are what may typically come to mind when you think “cancer.” Mine do not just slip into my mind when I have a spare moment to stop and think, or when I feel like something is missing. My ghosts like to be in my face at all times, like constant, annoying reminders. They are very real characters in my everyday life.

Cancer Haunts Me Still

The ghost of cancer haunts me—its presence lingering in the shadows of my memories, a specter that refuses to fade away. It was a day etched in sorrow and disbelief, a day when the fabric of my world unraveled before my eyes.

I Am No Longer Safe

Cancer stripped away my armor, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable like the day I was born. The security I once took for granted vanished with my diagnoses not once, twice, but three times of acute lymphoblastic leukemia. My expectation of living a long and healthy life was shattered.

Silenced by the Language of Cancer

As a cancer patient, you learn a whole new language. Well, it’s regional: I learned the breast cancer dialect; you may be fluent in lymphoma. But we all learn it—no choice, total immersion, keep up or die. 75 visits to the hospital in one year is one heck of a Duolingo streak.

How Can This Be My Life?

Cancer is a thief in the night. Something you never think is really gonna happen to you till it does and it sends you whirling downward like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. And you just keep falling and falling.

Just One Puzzle

Imagine this—you are visiting your parents for a weekend trip that your kids have been counting down to for weeks. You are sitting with your family, puzzle on the table and snacks abounding. Your family’s love for puzzles has passed down generations and across marriages, and there are two rules: nothing under 1,000 pieces and you always start with the border.