Four years after cancer
When you're in the thick of cancer recovery, you're still in survival mode. Nothing matters more than staying cancer-free. It's not the deep sigh of relief you expect it to be but more like holding your breath, hoping it doesn't come back. You don't dare relax enough to let your guard down because cancer is a stealth-mode ninja who knows where you live and has broken in before. He didn't steal your electronics or fancy jewelry; he stole moments and laughter. You missed your best friend's wedding and that promotion at work. You threw up at Target, and that's not how you want to remember your favorite store.
It took me years to start to feel like myself again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still working on feeling like I know the person staring back at me in the mirror because the truth is I have changed on the inside just as much as I have on the outside - and that's saying a lot considering I'm missing about 70% of my right leg because of cancer. But miraculously, one day, out of the blue, I wasn't in survival mode anymore. I can't quite remember when or how it happened, but I started prioritizing my happiness again. My world didn't revolve around cancer anymore; it felt damn good and still does. Reading this might lead you to wonder why I write about it so often if I've reached this stage, and that's a valid question for someone who has never had cancer to ask. The simple answer is that I might be healthy now, but one does not simply forget cancer. It's so much worse than the sad part of a movie. So, I write about it and talk about it as much as I need to so that I can heal my mind. I get it out so I don't keep it in, burning a hole in my soul. If you know, you know. But I hope you don't know.
Now I can make jokes, sometimes they are dark and make people uncomfy, but I think I've earned the right to laugh about it from time to time. Mostly, I live my life and try not to leave room for regrets. Mistakes, sure, I make them all the time, but when your time is threatened, you don't want to wonder, what if? Why didn't I? Should I really have pulled out my spinning fake leg party trick on those very alarmed strangers? ;)
