Survivor

sur·vive

 verb \sər-ˈvīv\

: to remain alive : to continue to live

: to continue to exist

: to remain alive after the death of (someone)

<http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary>

I am called Survivor. The next time I go to the Relay for Life, I will walk the Survivor’s walk.  Cancer kills, but it didn't kill me.  So I am a survivor.  But what does this word imply?  That I managed to simply stay alive?  That I continue to exist?  That I outlived other patients?

My last cancer treatment was Sept 8, 2014. Man the tears flowed that day... and still do regularly to be honest.  But it was over.  It IS over.  I fought cancer… and I won.  My mind is blown almost daily when I think about the reality of what I just did. 

I created this blog as a way to express my thoughts and possibly encourage others – then I got too tired to write.  Treatment went on (and on and on and on) and I just didn't have the energy. I wanted to write – and I did from time to time – but here’s the thing – I was determined from the start to keep my life as normal as possible.  So I worked – almost every day (which, I have since been told by the ladies in my Survivor’s group, is somewhat unheard of during Chemo.)  And I went to things I was invited to – Not all of them… not even close to all of them – but I maintained somewhat of a semblance of my previously active social life.  (Although I must admit – throughout all of this I have developed a very powerful appreciation for Netflix nights on my couch!)

In the beginning, I was all about being strong and stubborn and kicking ass.  I am a strong person.  More importantly, I am a stubborn person.  I was simply not having this.  Cancer?  Seriously?  Pish - nothing I can’t handle.  Superman, right??   …False.  It was the hardest thing I have ever dealt with.  Ever.  At first, I thought it was nothing… bullshit to Cancer – I've got this!   And I was in control.  I was calling the shots.  I decided that cancer treatment could piss off with its sickness and side effects and I was going to barrel through it.  I did what was required – because I am a “survivor.”  But things changed.  I had to accept the reality that I am (unfortunately) human and my body couldn't just be OK on cancer treatment simply because I said it could.  She worked against me (and really, can you blame her??  The sick amount of chemicals my body took in – of course she would be angry!) 

I believed that Chemo would be the hardest part – and after my radiation therapy started, I maintained that belief… for about two weeks… then I got tired again. Really tired.  And my skin started burning.  I was so burnt I couldn't wear a bra most days (and trust me that was not a pretty sight!)  I actually think I had a harder time with radiation than I did with Chemo.  Chemo made me feel sick and gross and not myself – but radiation exhausted me.  Imagine that you haven’t slept for two full nights.  Then multiply it by six.  And no amount of sleep alleviates the fatigue – you simply have to power through it.  Most nights I was too tired to eat by the time I got home (don’t worry though folks – I eventually caved and went to stay with my dad and Lori who made sure I was well fed!)

It may have been an emotional thing – going through chemo was so wretched and I assumed that once it was done, everything else would be smooth sailing.  Wrong again.  I was prepared for battle when I started Chemo – I was not ready at all for the penetrating weakness that the radiation brought.

But now – Everything is changed.  I am FINISHED treatment (except for the drugs that I will be taking for the next ten years – which BTW cause MORE hot flashes!  Ugh.)  I have gone back to the gym (albeit in small doses).  I have gotten some of my energy back.  And those who know me will tell you - I am ME again!!

There are many many moments in which I reflect on the past nine months and I am overcome with joy.  I am just so so happy that it is over.  There are also moments in which I am still afraid.  I will have a follow up in February.  This is when I will find out if my breasts are cancer-free.  I don’t think I will sleep easy until then.  The treatment is finished, but the emotions are not extinguished.  I still get bouts of fear and self-pity.  I still get jealous when I see a woman with pretty hair (although my hair is growing back very nicely!) I still get overwhelmed when I really try to fathom what I just went through – Cancer.  Chemotherapy.  Radiation.  It’s actually a little crazy when I start to think about it too much.

Cancer is a messed up thing.  It changes the way you are treated.  It changes the way you feel.  I have really not been me since this whole thing started.  It is hard to think about anything else while you are in treatment.  It becomes your whole world.  Every minute of every day is consumed with thoughts of appointments and drugs and pain and fear. People tell you that you are courageous and strong but you feel weak and afraid.  You fight because you have to – because there is no other option.  And in the middle of it, you don’t even realize you are fighting.  But you fight – trust me, you fight.

I am called Survivor.  But Survival is not enough. I have endured and conquered.  I have suffered and succeeded.  I have felt broken and defeated and ready to die, all while pretending that I was brave.  I fought to keep things as normal as possible.  I fought to be able to stay on my own.  I fought for my life.  And I won.