It’s lovely to be stronger. To have my body back to normal. It’s very easy to forget the fact that I have a significant chance of being dead in the next 5 years when I’m hanging upside down from a pole or running a casual 5km or herding thirty 5 year olds into the dinner queue. Its good to forget, but it’s also very easy to get sucked back into a lifestyle I don’t want; rushing around, stressing and bickering... just because that’s the way it’s always been, doesn’t mean that’s the way it always must be.
I don’t think about cancer all the time anymore. Now that I’m well my brain is full of “to do” lists instead: school planning, work admin, life admin, grocery shops, family meals, housework. I also worry about what other people think about me; am I successful enough, am I likeable enough, am I a good enough wife, friend, mother, teacher? I’m not unique, everyone has chores, many of these things really do need to be done; but how do you stop them filling ALL the time... or even most of it?
Maybe I should think about the cancer more often. Maybe I should remember that time is precious. I’m not sure the last 6 months have been well spent. I’m much stronger physically, I’ve had 2 lovely holidays, but day to day I’m living to meet the expectations of others and it’s not a happy or fulfilling way to live. I was much better at prioritising things that bring me joy when dying was at the forefront of my mind. Now seeking joy feels selfish. It isn’t of course, joy is what makes life worth living. The trick is not to wait for a holiday but to find joy in the ordinary and make time to connect with the activities and people you love.
This Friday I was asked to fill in some insurance forms, it seemed like another boring life admin task and I squeezed it in where I could, unthinkingly. It wasn’t as simple a task as I thought it would be. The document was full of detailed questions about my diagnosis and treatment, questions I hadn’t thought about in a long while. Knowing that these questions were being used to calculate the risk of me dying was quite upsetting. I also realised I didn’t know the answers to some of the questions which was quite embarrassing.
Most of the information about my illness has been given to me verbally in couple of terrifying medical appointments. No letter followed up these discussions and I was advised against asking for my pathology report. So I have very little concrete information about my illness.
After nearly a year, I feel foolish that I’m not 100% sure what stage and grade my cancer was or how many lymph nodes were involved.
I see my oncologist today for my first follow up appointment since the end of treatment. I believe it’s also my last. I have questions. Questions I only half want the answers to. I feel foolish, especially as a scientist, not knowing all the details of my diagnosis but once I know, it will be impossible not to read and dwell on the new data.
I’m going to ask for my pathology report. It’s terrifying, but I want all the information. Even if my prognosis is worse than I currently believe, maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe I need a bit of fear of dying to start really living again.
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