I realize it's been almost a year since I updated this blog, but it's not because I haven't thought about it. I've thought and thought and thought about it, I just haven't written anything. Ernest Hemingway said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." I guess I've been afraid to sit down and bleed and share it with others, so I haven't. I decided to go back to school this fall and focus more on writing, so I thought this blog would be a good place to start.
After I found out I was cancer free, I was planning on writing a blog post called, "Full Circle" and talk about how everything with my cancer had come full circle. The day the doctor's found my tumor, my brother got his mission call. We were planning on being there when he opened it, but life had other plans. When he was opening his call, at 6:00 pm, I was getting an CT scan to see if the cancer had spread to any of my organs (thankfully, it hadn't). I remember checking my phone while I was laying on the table, and it said 6:04. It was one of the worse feelings ever. Four months later, exactly a week before he left on his mission, the biopsy results came back that I was cancer-free. That was one of the best feelings ever. The Lord is definitely aware of our circumstances and timing. When someone chooses to serve a mission, their whole family is blessed. That I know for certain.
I kept planning on writing a post about that and how everything had come full circle, but I never really felt like it had come full circle. Even now, over a year after my diagnosis, I don't feel like it has come full circle. I don't feel like my cancer journey is "over". Yes, I'm cancer-free, but I still live in pain every day. I feel like I live my life in three-month increments between biopsies. Right now I'm trying to figure out how to fit in my next cancer check at the hospital, I missed it last week because of the stomach flu. I look at pictures before my cancer, with my long hair, and I don't feel like I've come full circle back to the person I was. Life doesn't have some magic eraser that you can use to blot out the least favorite memories.
I have this image in my head that I refer back to whenever I try to remember how far I've come. It was the day I shaved my head. I'd been so sick on chemo and I had radiation burns down my legs. I was still using a wheelchair anytime I had to walk more than 20 steps. Dallas had helped me shave my head and then I took a shower. When I got out of the shower, I saw myself in the mirror and it made me sick. I was so skinny you could count my ribs. I was bald and I had scars criss-crossing my abdomen. I was hunched over because it hurt too much to walk. I quickly looked away. That was probably my low point. Cancer has a way of stripping you down to the bare bones. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, it leaves you raw.
Physically, I'm almost all better. All my scars have healed. I've been cancer free 10 months now. I've regained most of the flexibility in my legs. I'm sleeping and exercising again. I've don't take painkillers anymore. My hair has grown back.
Emotionally, I'm healing, but it has taken a lot longer. I've been waiting to feel like the person I was before, for everything to come full circle, and I don't think that's ever going to happen. In a lot of ways, that's good. I'm more thankful for my blessings. I don't stress about the little things. I'm more patient with my girls. I am closer to my husband than ever. In some ways, it's hard. I feel like I have a hidden weight I carry around that other people don't. I try not to live in constant fear that my cancer will come back, but every time my three month cancer check comes up, I find myself thinking about what-ifs. I stress way too much about my hair. But I've come a long way. Sometimes I go days without thinking about cancer at all. My life no longer revolves around pill schedules, chemo, or how I'm feeling that day. I look at the picture below and I know I'm not that person anymore either, I've come a long way.
This picture was taken at the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life last summer. I'm wearing my purple survivor shirt. On the back it says, "SURVIVOR. I am hope!"
I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though I miss the person I used to be, I'm happy with the person I am today. I don't worry as much what other people think about me. I am happy every day. I try harder to be the person I want to be. I don't let silly things that don't matter keep me from living the life I've always imagined. I tell people "I love you" more.
I try to live a life without regrets. Elder Uchtdorf's talk last conference pierced my soul. He talked about how to live a life without regret.
To avoid some of the deepest regrets of life, it would be wise to make some resolutions today. Therefore, let us:
- Resolve to spend more time with those we love.
- Resolve to strive more earnestly to become the person God wants us to be.
- Resolve to find happiness, regardless of our circumstances.
--Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf
In the meantime, I'm still working on healing and finding joy in the journey. Nothing really comes "full circle". Life moves forward, people change. You can choose whether you're going to move forward with it or not. My husband tells me all the time, "Remember, you don't have cancer anymore." And I don't! I'm moving past it. I love this quote I heard the other day.
I love this quote, too. Every trial will end someday. The sun always rises. If you rely on Jesus Christ, your night will be a little less dark because it will be illuminated by the light of our Savior. That I know for certain. Jesus Christ is the Savior of mankind and the Light and Life of the world. There is no wound too deep, no sin too red, no life too broken for Him to heal with His miraculous atonement. I don't just believe that. I know it, I live it, and I love it.
Below are the some of the lyrics to the song that inspired my post. It came on Pandora today and the words pierced my soul. I highly recommend listening to this song; there's something about music that soothes the soul and speaks to us in a way that words cannot.
I have not lived a life that boasts of anything
I don't take pride in what I bring
But I'll build an altar with
The rubble that You've found me in
And every stone will sing
Of what You can redeem
Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar
Don't let me forget
Everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget
The beauty
in the suffering
Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar
I'm thankful for my scars. Every time I see the two inch gash on my shoulder it reminds me that I'm a survivor and that I've been healed. I'm looking forward to the day when we are all resurrected. Our bodies will return to a perfect and all the scars will be gone, because they won't matter anymore. In the meantime, I'm thankful for a daily reminder that my life has been touched by the hand of God.