Cancer Never Ends

I’ve never felt right calling myself a cancer survivor. I say it because it is the most common term people understand. I do not wish to be a dictionary for terminology when I choose to share my experience. I have yet to identify with the terms “warrior, and thriver.” I haven’t felt as if I am thriving in any way. Maybe it’s because I am 25 and I don’t have my feet cemented into my life plan. I don’t find being “healthy” any easier than being sick. I am starting to believe it is harder. I was so focused on getting “back to normal” I never planned beyond what would happen after treatment. I don’t think I will ever feel like a “cancer warrior,” I never felt brave once during my fight and especially now. I resent cancer more days than I care that I beat it. 

I have yet to accept that I will never know who I could’ve become without cancer. I went from being an aspiring cosmetologist to a caregiver to my mom who was diagnosed with Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer by the time I was 19. A year later at 20 I was receiving my own cancer diagnosis (Stage 3 Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma). The only thing I can be grateful about this timeline is we each had a great understanding of what the other was going through. I have yet to forgive cancer for taking the one person I still need. In my survivorship journey I miss her because I know she would most understand me if she were lucky enough to be able to. I believe surviving cancer made it harder to lose her and that has affected my gratitude in my own survival.

Thankfully I don’t spend much time thinking about my cancer coming back, after asking a multitude of questions to my oncologist with them telling me the likelihood is slim to none on a relapse. It generates some peace, that has not stopped me from thinking about it as a possibility, it’s given me breathing room to think if I could fight the fight again if I had to. My answer is still undecided as of now, which is further than when I was going through treatment because it was a 100% no. 

I now often think of what I want in any emergency medical situation. I never want to be handed a “ My 5 wishes sheet” while processing any diagnosis, medical option, etc again.The biggest struggle I face in and out of the hospital today is wondering who would be a good emergency contact. In any traumatic situation I’d find myself in. I never anticipated the mental toll cancer would have played on me, or the physical changes in my body from going through chemotherapy. 

I feel misunderstood 90% of the time. When I try to open up to my family and friends they are quick to remind me that I should be filled with gratitude and that part of my life is now gone and over. I do not believe that cancer will ever be over for me. Every day I learn something new about myself that has been caused by the side effects of chemotherapy. It is more frustrating having to explain to new friends or even family why I have to carry a jacket/ blanket on an 80 degree day. If I am going to be in the sun,I fear what to wear. Three years ago I wore a top that had a criss cross pattern in the design on the back where I received a severe sunburn and I am still marked with a very clear tan line. It is humorous that the shirt read “I am blessed” but I mourn the version of myself where I know bad tan lines went away.

I learned to physically adjust for my new reality of accommodating myself in any given physical scenario. I wish it was as easy to know what to pack to handle my mental stress. I use the chant “I beat cancer, I can __.” Saying this at times I find challenging feel less difficult. It isn’t an automatic recipe for success. It does not take away the anxiety I face in walking into a store, dancing on a night out, or putting myself out there in any way. It has gotten me through job interviews, work first days, family events, model classes, first dates, and phone calls. When it fails I feel very low. It failed this past weekend in not being able to add personality in a model walk. Luckily I know those are only moments, I will get passed. 

Having had cancer gives me the reason to keep trying. The fear of being on my death bed full of regret is more terrifying than the act of dying itself. I can tell you who I hope to become through this journey. I hope to become a well rounded individual who can be a part of the greater change, even if it’s on a small scale. I hope to open opportunities I wish I had in my town going through chemotherapy, and even now in my survivorship. I hope to be able to use my cosmetology license I acquired five years ago. I hope to have a small business named after my mom where the proceeds go to pancreatic cancer research. I will have the healed version of myself to advocate on the problem with miscommunication in hospitals and how it affects patients as well as caregivers. One day I do hope to use those words “cancer survivor” other than as a descriptor, or I might make my own that best suits me so far I’m leaning towards “cancer annihilator.”