I’m one of the lucky ones. I get to have a ‘chemoversary’, where I look back into the past and remember when I was on chemo. What it means to have a chemoversary is that 1) You’re still alive, and 2) You’re done with chemo. So I’m lucky. Really really lucky, and that isn’t lost on me.
That said, I’m having a hard time with this one.
When the anniversary of my mastectomy came around, I nearly missed it entirely. In fact, my mom – who keeps records of everything on her calendar – is the one who even reminded me of it at all. That surgery was a terrifying, painful experience, but it doesn’t seem to have had the same lasting make-me-shake-in-my-flip-flops-years-later effect that chemo has. Maybe it’s because I have an old college friend who is going through it now too, maybe it’s because I’ve started writing Book Two of The Pointy Hat Brigade, and that book focuses more on the character who went through breast cancer. Who knows. All I know is that the memories are stopping me in my tracks today, making me stare off into the distance with that frozen, caught-in-the-headlights feeling. And making me write a lot of hyphenated phrases.
A fellow survivor posted that the September chemo group is up and running on the breastcancer.org forums. I try to post up there every time a new September group is formed, to say hi, and good luck, and you’ll-get-through-this. Some years I post from the standpoint of a knowing, supportive teacher, some years I’m more of a cowering puppy in the corner who’s giving them a little thumbs up. Either way I’m headed over there as soon as I publish this, and I’m really hoping I can come up with something encouraging. I might just resort to inspirational quotes. “Sometimes having courage just means showing up”, that kind of thing.
Because sometimes it does.