In the beginning I was still me, in the middle I felt like myself still, but at the end I am a completely different person. I stand in front of the mirror and hardly recognize the wounded person in front of my eyes. My hair gone, thick scars where smooth skin used to be, black bruise like marks everywhere from the harsh chemicals used in my body, my left eye sight clinging on, pain everywhere, and my body so swollen from radiation, to me it is unrecognizable. All of this is vanity in my appearance but inside I'm different too. I'm scared, I have questions nobody could possibly know the answers too, I have anger, sadness and happiness all at the same time. I have been alive for the past 8 months but I have not been living. Confined in a house, hospitals, care centers and at one time a bed, I was left in other words to suffer from a terrible disease. A disease that not only eats at the body but at the emotional heart of a person. Cancer is a cruel disease any patient can tell of the harshness, but also any survivor can tell you of the daily battles you still fight as a cured person.
There is a psychological part of cancer that I was made aware of at the beginning of my journey and I have done my best to beat a cancerous depression. But like anyone else I have my moments. The 'why me?' moments, the survivor guilt, the terrified feeling of; 'what if I relapse?', and many more. I struggle with the fact that my body will never be the same again. While going through treatment I really never thought about what I would look like when I was finished, I never pictured myself looking like this. People say you will get it all back, but even my oncologist, radiologist and my shrink know better than to say this, because in fact my body will never be the same again. The risks have gone up and the good chances of the old normalcy that I knew have gone way down. I'm left as I feel a mangled replica of someone who kinda looks like me. It's difficult, it's so hard, it's actually a little bit heart breaking. Of course I have those around me who say it doesn't matter, I am the same to them. But it matters to me, I'm not the same to myself. I'm different. It's like a terrible hair cut you have to get used to, but much, much worse.
I pray a lot, for self acceptance, for gratitude for my life and those in it, for the ability to find my 'calling' in life, and for just the strength to keep holding on.
And although there is an emense amount of pain in cancer. Too much pain. Don't worry I was able to find some happiness along the journey, but that tale is for another day.
