How Do I Find Life With You?

Dear Cancer,

Here I go again, writing to you. Sometimes it feels like I’m writing to a frenemy who won’t go away because you’ve made the biggest impact on my life. It has become increasingly more difficult to formulate my thoughts and words even though you are constantly running through my mind. Also, sometimes I fear that my words might offend certain people and I would like to be mindful of that; although I wish I didn’t have to be so cautious. But since you won’t leave me alone, I decided to write a “love-hate” letter to you, although I really don’t love you.

I hate that you have changed the course of my career. I worked so hard to do my homework on time, get good grades, go to some of the top schools, and graduate. I found a job working in a field that I was passionate about, only to have you take that away from me. It seems so unfair, but it doesn’t matter anymore what title and accolades I had, how many “hats” I wore, and how many letters are behind my name. All of that seems very frivolous when I think about that. Having to do disability retirement was very hard for me to swallow, and I had to grieve that part of my identity and give up a lot of things. You stripped those things from me. It took some time to get over feeling like a failure, to build myself up again, and I have to constantly remind myself that I am good enough.

During that period, Miley Cyrus’ song Flowers really resonated with me, especially when she sings about how she built a home and watched it burn. I equated that to feeling like I was watching my career burn down, but I didn’t want to leave due to my own pride and the relationships that I had throughout my career. Just like Miley, I cried, but I realized I could do things on my own and didn’t need to prove my worth to anyone. I am better without the stress, and having more time away from work lets me focus on self-care and deciding which path I want to take.

I am grateful to you for forcing me to slow down and giving me time to reflect and ask myself if the career that I chose after college still gave me the same satisfaction or not. While being on medical leave and later disability retirement, you gave me time to think about whether I still wanted the long hours, the deadlines that repeated over and over again, and the stress that came along with all of that. Now, it’s hard to go back to that world. That’s when I finally understood the saying, “If you love what you do, it won’t be work to you.” I’m still looking for “that thing,” my passion project, but I have a good sense of what my heart wants. I’m READY to put my stamp on things, whatever it may be.

I also hate that you took away my ability to have kids naturally. We were trying to conceive for many years with infertility treatments and procedures. I often wondered if the infertility drugs and treatments led to your birth. When my oncologist told me I had endometrial cancer and needed a hysterectomy, he didn’t provide me with any fertility preserving options. This was a huge blow and another point in time when I felt like I was a failure. Culturally and in my mind, there’s so much emphasis on having kids and so much guilt associated with that when it doesn’t happen, especially for women.

It still sucks though, especially on Mother’s Day and other holidays when social media gets flooded with pictures, videos, and reels of newborn babies or children who light up their parents’ and grandparents’ lives. But I can also see how it can be a struggle to raise a family and be rewarding at the same time. You gave me so much more compassion for those with kids and how at times, we might hide our issues behind smiles on social media and in pictures. I realized that if I focused on the “what if’s” and “why me’s,” I would go down a deep rabbit hole and my thoughts would spiral out of control. Although that still happens from time to time, I remind myself that there is no point focusing on those thoughts. I realized that I cannot change the past, and that led me to accept my body and my cancer diagnosis. Therefore, I’m grateful for how I can change my mindset. I choose to cherish what I have, who I am, and who I have become.

I hate that you have changed every relationship in my life. I have grown to fear doctors, thinking that every time I see one, they will have bad news for me, like a new diagnosis or another recurrence. Prior to you coming into my life, I hardly ever had to see a doctor. After all the visits, treatments, and labs, you would think that I would be desensitized to those by now. But that was far from the truth, and I had to find coping mechanisms to decrease my anxiety during doctor visits. I’m still learning to reframe and think of the visits being a chance to get to know my body better. However, it’s still a work in progress, and that’s OK.

As an only child who had a strict conservative upbringing and critical judgmental parents, I found that it was extremely difficult to break through that emotional barrier of feeling as if I wasn’t trying hard enough and would just quit when things got hard. When I was going through treatment for my recurrence, my oncologist suggested continuing chemotherapy beyond the standard level of care due to my lung metastasis, but I knew that my body was telling me to stop and just do maintenance treatment instead. That was a tough decision because I felt like I was giving up again and somehow letting my oncologist down. Then I was reminded that I have to listen to my body and that I can do things to continue my healing journey holistically. Growing up, every time I pivoted into a new school or situation, my parents would doubt my capabilities, and laughed at me for even suggesting trying new things; I had to prove them wrong by surpassing their expectations. I told myself that this is also the approach I should take with you for my treatment plan and trust that the choices I make with my diet and exercise will keep you at bay. I continue to hold onto that hope. After you came into my life, my relationship with my parents became further strained, certain friends have completely disappeared, and some friendships have become more toxic. People provided me with unsolicited advice when all I needed was a listening ear or just someone to cry to. Sometimes I wonder if people just want to avoid uncomfortable conversations, or if conversations with cancer survivors make them face their own mortality and because that’s hard to handle they just disappear.

But on the flip side, it made me realize what truly matters, and who would and did really show up for me in my time of need. Care does not end when treatment ends. You, cancer, gave me a way to weed out certain people in my life since I don’t have the energy to deal with petty drama anymore. I’m just way too tired and would rather do arts and crafts or connect with true friends instead of dealing with the drama. You put things into perspective for me and taught me to cherish life, since life is too short. You helped me solidify true friendships and turned strangers into best friends and confidants. However, the worst part is when you take the lives of friends away. That is still a reality when we come face-to-face with you. I don’t know the best way to deal with that grief and I may never know how to cope with that. It’s yet another reminder that I shouldn’t take time for granted.

As for my relationship with my parents, I’m still trying to let go of the past, gain some acceptance of who they are, and take things that they say with a grain of salt. I would not have felt so much self-love without all the classes and resources within the cancer community guiding me in the process. For that, I am truly grateful. Now, I can make my own decisions. I can choose who I want in my life, and what I want to be, and that is extremely powerful. I have to make each day count because time is not guaranteed for any of us. In a sense, you made me feel freer. I may be one of the select few who think about you like this, but I am surprised by how eye-opening this whole journey has been for me. Don’t forget, even though I have to live with you for the rest of my life, I still don’t love you.

This article was featured in the June 2024 Dear Cancer issue of Elephants and Tea Magazine! Click here to read our magazine issues.