Hello, friends--been a long time.
Let's get this out of the way early: nothing to fear, this is a good news post.
Today is 5 years in remission from Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It's of course an enormous cause to celebrate.
5 years is generally considered a very important milestone in survivorship.
I've been counting down the days to get here--but subconsciously, it seems. These important days usually surprise me, whether via facebook or insta memories, texts from friends and family, or calendar notifications.
They surprise me because I don't think about having cancer anymore. Frankly, on most days, it doesn't feel like I ever did. I know I did--I have the scars and the memories--but it doesn't feel like it.
I don't remember what being sick feels like--those scars have faded.
On one hand, that's a testament to how fortunate and privileged I am. My life is easy now. I'm incredibly happy. Marriage is the best. We love our home, our pups. Our families are healthy. We are healthy. I feel valued in my chosen profession and we both enjoy our work.
I am constantly distracted with pleasantness.
On the other hand--and this is why I decided to write my first blog post in lord knows how long--it's a reminder that even on the happiest days, on day's I've been looking for and have had circled on the calendar for years--cancer never really lets you go. It lingers, in the shadows and corners of your mind.
I didn't feel relief this morning when I saw what day it was.
For the first time in a long time, I felt scared.
I don't think about having cancer. Almost ever. Today, it's all I can think about.
I have no reason to--I'm as healthy as I've ever been. Living a lifestyle cleaner than I ever thought I would. No issues.
I just wanted to put words to the feeling I have--that I know a lot of survivors have--that even if the fear of relapse or a new diagnosis or onset of long-term side effects from chemo doesn't exist in daily life--or even weekly/monthly/yearly life--it finds a way to pop up at the worst fucking times.
It's not just a disease of the body.
The fear of relapse is constant. It's like running from Usain Bolt.
The more vegetables I eat, the more I exercise, the more fulfilling my life is--that just pads the head start Usain has to give me.
It just feels like he's going to catch up to you at some point, no matter what.
Because he's Usain fucking Bolt.
 |
| he comin' |
The funk and fear won't last past lunch.
I'll switch back to feeling grateful to have made it to this truly vital benchmark. I'll switch back to being thrilled I'm healthy and vow, again as I do daily, not to waste any of my time left here.
I need and deserve no pity, that's not what this is about.
This is just an attempt, muddied as it may be, to explain what it feels like--even on what is the most triumphant of days--for many survivors.
Love you guys. Wouldn't have made it here without you.
Usain has a lot of ground to make up.
