Recently I discovered a column in the New York Times written weekly by a cancer survivor about her experiences and thoughts throughout her treatment. While she writes with such precise insight into the life and thoughts of a cancer patient/survivor, her underlying messages and themes in regards to life are universal. Her most recent article entitled, "Am I a Cancer Survivor?" resonated deeply with me as a former cancer patient. The author describes her inner struggle when called to be in a "survivor" photo because she is not technically considered in remission yet. In her article she explores several meanings of the term "survivor" and eventually accepts that she is in fact a survivor.
I too relate to her struggle to coin herself with such a valiant title but for different reasons. See, I am considered in remission. In fact, I consider myself cured. The cancer is gone. Blasted into oblivion. Not a trace to be found on my check up scans. But sometimes I don't feel like my battle was worthy of the survivor trophy. Hodgkin's Lymphoma has one of the best cure rates. When I was first diagnosed, people kept saying, "Well, if you're going to have cancer, that is the one to have!" As if that were a consoling sentiment. My doctor's plan of action was very clear cut and I felt confident going into treatment that there was really only one possible outcome at the end of chemo and radiation - cured!
I wouldn't use the term "fun," but my experience with chemo and radiation were not unbearable. Maybe it is because I am almost a year removed from the treatment process and I have simply blocked all discomfort from memory. Do I want to go through it again? Heck no. But I know that other people experience more pain and suffering than I faced. And it is for that reason that I often feel as if I didn't have to fight hard enough for my survivor title, for my life. Others endure much more to earn their title of "cancer survivor." Does my puny 6 month stint with cancer qualify me for such a brave term?
Sometimes it is even weird to say that I had cancer. I was lucky enough to continue my normal routine in life that people I interacted with on a daily basis at the time had no idea that every other Thursday afternoon I quietly stepped out of work and took a seat at the cancer center. They had no idea that the following Friday's I would use my break time to return to the cancer to receive the little blast of Neulasta to ensure that my white blood cell count would be high enough for the next treatment. Sometimes I let what others saw, or didn't see for that matter, impact how I view my experience. People around me didn't see me fighting so how can I call myself a "survivor" of the cancer battle?
But then I try to remember the facts. Cancer is still cancer. And I once had cancer. Now I don't. Therefore I have "survived" cancer. No matter the severity of my diagnosis or the size of my battle, I can call myself a survivor and be grateful for the love that grew from cancer and what it taught me about life.
