A few weeks ago, I was indulging in a stress-free, summer morning. I was standing in the shower, letting the hot water pummel against my back. I was finally done with the craziness of college for awhile and could now just relax. Relax. The word shot through my brain and a thought suddenly crashed to the surface of my mind: I have a CT scan next week. I had already been worrying about this one more than usual because my body had not been scanned for 6 months. This particular scan was bittersweet - it's good we moved the scan out from every 4 months to every 6 months, but it made me worry even more because it had been so long.
I started to wash my face and rub the soapy suds over my skin. I reached just under my ears and rubbed a bit harder. Did my lymph nodes hurt? I wondered. My mind flew back to freshman year in the bathroom, when I definitely felt sore lymph nodes as I washed my face, but at the time I just blamed it on my month long cough. The hot water on my face snapped me back to reality. It's all in your head, I assured myself as I turned the water off. The next day, I was reading outside on the porch. For some reason, at that moment my brain felt the need to remind me about the scan coming up. I took a deep breath, suddenly remembering another symptom that had lead me to the ER that day. Does my chest feel tight? my mind started to scream. I took deep, clean breaths, but still these thoughts pushed themselves to all corners of my mind. The next couple of weeks seemed to drag on. The thought of my upcoming scan consumed my mind more than it ever had before. I practiced deep breathing and tried to drink less caffeine to help calm myself. As I said before, part of this anxiousness stems from being unable to see the state of my body since October, which seemed more and more scary the more I let myself think about it. But I think the bigger reason is that I have seen too much cancer in my life the past 6 months and it has struck deep crevices in my heart. I realized I was more scared for this scan not solely because I saw how easily cancer can affect those close to me, but because if I had to go through it all again, I wouldn't be able to be there as much for those I know currently battling the disease. For some reason, this realization brought me some relief. The next week, I discovered my scan was clear, my blood counts were normal, and my heart beat at a steady rate. There is something people do not really talk about in regards to the aftermath of beating cancer. Cancer is something that sticks with you the rest of your life. It is not just about hoping for clean scans every few months. It's about having trouble falling asleep the day after you hear someone you know was diagnosed because all you can see is images of what they may have to face in the upcoming months. It's about feeling despair because you know how it may feel to not have control over what is happening to you. It's about constantly asking why why why when someone close to you finds themselves in cancer's path. Amidst these few weeks, I came across a quote from a cancer survivor that became one of the clearest thoughts I could form amidst the mangle of worry and wonder. As quoted on the American Cancer Society website: “To me, survivorship is very much an attitude; it’s a state of mind. How we interpret the experience of cancer and integrate it into our lives is fundamental to how we coexist with it. I have learned that hope is forever changing, and healing can come without curing.” This lead to my own realization as a cancer survivor. I have realized that now, I have a duty to inspire and help others through these tough times. This is something I think I have needed to realize for quite sometime. This past year, I struggled a lot with "survivor's guilt" - feeling helpless and guilty as I watch from the other side as someone become diagnosed with this disease. But now, for the first time in awhile, I feel proud to be a cancer survivor because I hope I can be the light for someone else who was in the same spot as me a couple of years ago. Another quote that I came across recently is "we have been assigned this mountain to show others it can be moved." Cancer can feel like a giant mountain in our path, but in my opinion, it's not so much about moving it out of the way as it is overcoming it. Cancer will always be with you, even when you make it to the other side. What matters is how you climb the mountain. Who do you meet along the way - and do you work with these people to get up the mountain together? What does the view look like from the top? Take pictures so you always know what the world looks like having conquered that mountain. The next time someone encounters a similar mountain, you can show them these pictures and share your experiences and thoughts, helping them to prepare for their own journey. And that, for me, is a beautiful thing about being a cancer survivor. Along with this recent clean scan, I have seen clarity in how I integrate survivorship into my life. I am excited to carry this with me as I move forward and coexist with survivorship in a hopefully soon to be cancer-free world.
1 Comment
Sandy McAllister
6/22/2017 11:07:49 am
Bridget, you are such an inspiration to so many many people. My pastor is now battling this awful disease. She's at Mayo today trying to come up with a plan. After 3 chemo treatments her scans show no cancer but her liver is not doing well. Doctors up here really want to do 3 more rounds of chemo. Mayo doctors are trying to figure out how to treat her liver first.
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