Different Body

Endured, tolerated, persisted, resisted; these are some verbs that come to mind when I think of my body. A different kind of body that was brought into the night side of life. A stressed body condemned to immobility. As a childhood cancer survivor, it is hard to remember specifically what I felt when I was diagnosed or going through treatment, but if I study my scars and listen to my body, I can discover a once-devastated geography.

Yes, it’s unquestionable, this fragile body of mine has been in battle with itself. It has confronted terrible pain, tumors, surgeries, and toxic medications that saved it but also atrophied vital organs inside. It has lived with fatigue and even the urge to just quit it all. For each and every loss, I still weep. “But you beat Cancer,” say my friends and family, to which my inner voice responds, “Yes but at what cost?” Of course, my lips stay shut—I just force a smile and continue with my uncertain journey. It is not that I do not appreciate the beauty of life or this vessel I am in. I love my body for making it out of that dark cave, but, sometimes I also wish I didn’t feel trapped. I wish it was not me inside myself. I even wish I could abandon this body and migrate to a healthy one. This is how my relationship with my body has been for the past twenty years. Sometimes I admire it deeply for having healed to a certain extent, but other times, I still mourn the body before the shipwreck.

I don’t remember what it felt to have long beautiful curly hair, but I feel like I miss it. I do not remember what it means to eat anything and everything I crave without having stomach pains, but I know I miss it. I do not remember what it means not to have to go to routine checkups every six months and just attend school or work without having to ask for days off. I do not remember what it means to be trauma-free; I do not remember what being fully alive and courageous is.

On the other hand, I do know how to get a haircut that will make it seem like I have more hair than what I actually have. I am learning how to cook meals that won’t hurt me and ruin the rest of the week. I do know how to navigate through my visits with all the different medical specialists, and I am seeking mental health help when the sadness worsens. What I am trying to say is that after various encounters with Cancer, little by little, my soul came back into my body and I began gaining vitality again. Maybe it won’t always be much vitality, but it is enough to temporarily set aside my fears, adapt, continue, and be back in my body and start trusting it again. Yes, it is different, but it is still standing in this world.