If I thought having cancer was easy, I’d forgot to factor in that life doesn’t always turn out how you planned. It’s not so much that having cancer is hard. It’s not being able to conquer it that’s tough.
For two years, I’ve gone from drug to drug, initially glowing in the euphoric feeling that it’s going to work, and is working against the cancer, only to find out six months down the line that my body, yet again, is retreating from the invading army. The days when the drugs conquered all, and I could have six, 12, even three years free to live a normal life, seem now a long way away.
So what’s so different about conquering cancer and knowing it’s your destiny? I would say in a nutshell: accepting the truth and learning to breathe through it. For more than three years while I was in remission, even though I was on maintenance chemotherapy, I was able to write about hope, about living life large in the face of cancer, about stopping to smell the roses. But as soon as my cancer came back, and wouldn’t give me a break, the words dried up. I couldn’t understand it. For someone who had found it so easy to see the colors in the face of blindness, my fingers wouldn’t type, my heart wouldn’t give and the block became a constant frustration.