So I have now passed my two "cancer-versary". It's been two years+ since my surgery. Another three years to go before I hit the major milestone of 5 years, at which point I am supposed to breathe a little easier and also be somewhat insurable again. And at ten years, I should feel like there's nothing scary in the rear view anymore. (Cancer, what cancer?!)
But yet.
The flip side of cautious optimism is the fear of complacency. No matter how many stories you hear of "and then the cancer never came back, and she lived happily ever after to the age of 94" there are the other stories. The ones that go something like "I thought I was done with cancer and I got cocky, and then it came back". It sometimes feels like cancer is a school bully, just waiting to sucker punch you the minute you let your guard down. It's as if saying "I'm cured!" would somehow be tempting fate to show you who's really in charge. (And companies like this one that prey on these fears are literally the worst. THE WORST.)
I will admit that it's totally magical thinking. What good is vigilance against the unpredictable? The cancer, much like the first time it showed up, will either come back or it won't. I'm not saying that there aren't things I can do in terms of living a healthy lifestyle (I am definitely not taking up smoking at this point in my life!) or being proactive if anything seems out of the norm (unlike last time when I let things slide for a bit). But how do I let go of that feeling that something creepy is lurking right behind me? I still feel like there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about cancer. It's not that I worry about it or that I'm in a heightened state of anxiety all the time. But it still feels like a large presence in my life, sitting there quietly in the shadows no matter where I am or what I'm doing. I sometimes wonder how long it takes before you stop looking over your shoulder. Five years? Ten years? Never?
But, like all things in life, there is always a silver lining. The nearness of cancer has made me live life a little bit harder. I've done things I've always wanted to do, because putting things off for "some day" no longer seems like the most reliable plan. Maybe in time cancer will be less of a ghoulish spectre and more of a gentle reminder that we are given today, but no promises for tomorrow. If it did come back, would I have regrets of what I should have done? A little bit of urgency to appreciate life isn't necessarily a bad thing, as long as you don't let it take over.
But yet.
The flip side of cautious optimism is the fear of complacency. No matter how many stories you hear of "and then the cancer never came back, and she lived happily ever after to the age of 94" there are the other stories. The ones that go something like "I thought I was done with cancer and I got cocky, and then it came back". It sometimes feels like cancer is a school bully, just waiting to sucker punch you the minute you let your guard down. It's as if saying "I'm cured!" would somehow be tempting fate to show you who's really in charge. (And companies like this one that prey on these fears are literally the worst. THE WORST.)
I will admit that it's totally magical thinking. What good is vigilance against the unpredictable? The cancer, much like the first time it showed up, will either come back or it won't. I'm not saying that there aren't things I can do in terms of living a healthy lifestyle (I am definitely not taking up smoking at this point in my life!) or being proactive if anything seems out of the norm (unlike last time when I let things slide for a bit). But how do I let go of that feeling that something creepy is lurking right behind me? I still feel like there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about cancer. It's not that I worry about it or that I'm in a heightened state of anxiety all the time. But it still feels like a large presence in my life, sitting there quietly in the shadows no matter where I am or what I'm doing. I sometimes wonder how long it takes before you stop looking over your shoulder. Five years? Ten years? Never?
But, like all things in life, there is always a silver lining. The nearness of cancer has made me live life a little bit harder. I've done things I've always wanted to do, because putting things off for "some day" no longer seems like the most reliable plan. Maybe in time cancer will be less of a ghoulish spectre and more of a gentle reminder that we are given today, but no promises for tomorrow. If it did come back, would I have regrets of what I should have done? A little bit of urgency to appreciate life isn't necessarily a bad thing, as long as you don't let it take over.