I am officially cancer free.
But I say that hesitantly while holding my breath- refusing to exhale.
Because once you have cancer you kind of feel you're just waiting for the next scan to declare you're "free"
but you're only "free" until your next scan.
Do you see my point?
Hamster-spinny wheel.
Same thing.
So yes.
My last scan was clean (as we say in the cancer world)
And my oncologist only wants to see my yearly (What? Are you sure, I ask, kind of pleading)
I saw a bunch of old friends this week and was asked how I'm doing.
This group is the best of the best.
Even if I dont think of them as my best friends- we are a really large clique (without being cliquey)
We are a group who all have a common thread.
Summer camp.
And whether you were a bunkmate, a former camper, a former counselor or just someone we randomly met 10 years later who went to OUR same camp, we are bonded.
For life.
So when these friends asked me how I'm doing I know
they sincerely want to know.
And that is the best kind of how are you doing questions.
From the heart.
So I'm doing well,
Yesterday.
And the day before.
But another day I am not doing well.
I know I don't have cancer (for now)(Remember me? Mrs Negative Nellie)
but I always have ramifications.
I always have my treasure map body.
And the achy joints (As long as I'm on damn cancer meds. 1155 more days)
And sometimes the fake boob itches for no reason (and I cannot even begin to describe what an itch feels like on something that you have no feeling in to actually itch the itch)
So there are days I still feel sorry for myself.
Even though I'm really fine.
And have no reason to feel sorry for myself.
I should feel (the word I hate )(blessed)
I should feel thankful and alive and grateful
And I do.
Most days.
Except the days I have my pity party.
I'm allowed (I say to myself)
But then I shove my hair out of my sweaty face (After having my 5th hot flash in an hour) and put my hair into a ponytail
and smile
(because I now have ponytails again.)
So take that cancer.
But I say that hesitantly while holding my breath- refusing to exhale.
Because once you have cancer you kind of feel you're just waiting for the next scan to declare you're "free"
but you're only "free" until your next scan.
Do you see my point?
Hamster-spinny wheel.
Same thing.
So yes.
My last scan was clean (as we say in the cancer world)
And my oncologist only wants to see my yearly (What? Are you sure, I ask, kind of pleading)
I saw a bunch of old friends this week and was asked how I'm doing.
This group is the best of the best.
Even if I dont think of them as my best friends- we are a really large clique (without being cliquey)
We are a group who all have a common thread.
Summer camp.
And whether you were a bunkmate, a former camper, a former counselor or just someone we randomly met 10 years later who went to OUR same camp, we are bonded.
For life.
So when these friends asked me how I'm doing I know
they sincerely want to know.
And that is the best kind of how are you doing questions.
From the heart.
So I'm doing well,
Yesterday.
And the day before.
But another day I am not doing well.
I know I don't have cancer (for now)(Remember me? Mrs Negative Nellie)
but I always have ramifications.
I always have my treasure map body.
And the achy joints (As long as I'm on damn cancer meds. 1155 more days)
And sometimes the fake boob itches for no reason (and I cannot even begin to describe what an itch feels like on something that you have no feeling in to actually itch the itch)
So there are days I still feel sorry for myself.
Even though I'm really fine.
And have no reason to feel sorry for myself.
I should feel (the word I hate )(blessed)
I should feel thankful and alive and grateful
And I do.
Most days.
Except the days I have my pity party.
I'm allowed (I say to myself)
But then I shove my hair out of my sweaty face (After having my 5th hot flash in an hour) and put my hair into a ponytail
and smile
(because I now have ponytails again.)
So take that cancer.
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