Not Since Chemo

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in late May 2008, I didn’t look or physically feel like a cancer patient. If you would have been in my head and heart though, you would have seen the fear, uncertainty, and shattered sense of security. Once you hear the words “you have cancer,” there’s no turning back.

Though I had surgeries in July and August that summer, it wasn’t until I started four rounds of chemo in mid-September, losing my hair by the end of the month, that I took on the look of a cancer patient on the outside too. I would have some rough days post-chemo and then be on the upswing and feeling pretty good by the time the next round of treatment came.

I contracted the COVID virus somewhere along the line early in this new year and spent several days under the weather with it. The toughest two days were early on, last Thursday and Friday, like a really bad cold and low energy, pretty much crumminess from head to toe, definitely not my usual energetic self. I hadn’t felt that ill since my chemo days years ago. Chemo was mysterious in the way it impacted me. COVID has felt mysterious to me too. Three years after COVID arrived, I had my first direct run-in with it.

I’ve had surgeries since my cancer treatments, but coming out of anesthesia and surgery recovery is easier for me to wrap my head around. This was new territory for me with COVID. If things had continued worsening after those first couple of days, I would have gotten worried. Thankfully, I started to feel better. And I was never entirely down and out. Even short walks outside in the fresh air gave me hope.

Being thrown back to cancer thoughts also has me thinking of two other people: a year ago this month my niece Sarah went off to have a mammogram and cancer was discovered. She had a year of appointments, treatments, surgeries and is healing. And my friend Elli, who for nearly two years has been facing a difficult cancer diagnosis and a barrage of treatments. She goes in for one of those treatments today.

My overall health—physical, mental, emotional and spiritual—is something that I try not to take for granted. Having two diseases that kill people each day—alcoholism and cancer—as part of my life story, helps keep this idea of our precious and fragile life closer to the surface for me. Regardless of any circumstances, all any of us have is today.

I try to honor each day with healthy practices. Some days are better than others. There are people I know personally, and people all over the world, who are dealing with significant health challenges right now. People who live with chronic pain and have discomfort and dis-ease day in and day out.

I pause and hold Sarah, Elli and many others in my heart, sending healing energy and prayers their way. As I continue to recover from COVID, I turn some of that healing energy inward too. I am pacing myself and honoring rest.

I pause and feel my feet on the ground and appreciate being here. I think of my sister Mary Jo, who died of metastatic breast cancer in 2019, and I humbly accept the gift that is today.