Always around
Posted: August 29, 2013 Filed under: cancer fatigue | Tags: being done with cancer, breast cancer in young women, cancer fatigue, pink ribbons, psychological effects of cancer, PTSD and cancer 11 CommentsIt’s been way, way too long since I’ve spent any time on this little blog. It’s been a rather busy time around here, with the start of school. Two new schools and a long drive to and fro (the schools to which my kids are zoned correspond with our new house’s location and not the location of the temporary house we’re crashed in while the building proceeds at a snail’s pace) makes for a rather truncated day. Couple that with the fact that high school and middle school start and end on rather opposite schedules (he starts early, she starts late), and I’m in the car a lot. A whole lot.
To those sweet souls who have inquired about whether I’m done blogging, here’s the answer. I’d speculate that I’ll be done blogging as soon as I’m “done” with cancer. Which will be never.
While it’s true I don’t have the “everyday” cancer to deal with anymore, it’s still around. Always around. I’ve moved past the “everyday” cancer — surgery, recovery, wound care, infection fallout, constant doctors’ appointments, sorting through mountains of medical bills, battling insurance, researching treatment pros & cons, yadda yadda — but it’s still around.
Case in point: minding my own business at a red light yesterday making yet another run to or from one of my kids’ schools and I glanced at the car next to me. On the back windshield is a HUGE pink ribbon sticker. I mean HUGE. It took up enough space to make me wonder how the driver sees out that window. And bam! cancer is in my face. I wasn’t thinking about anything cancer-related, yet there it is, always ready to insert itself into daily life. While I recognize the intent behind those who put pink ribbon stickers and magnetic decals on their cars, I don’t know that I will ever get used to the insidious power the dreaded disease has to permeate every aspect of life, even years down the road.
Another example: I overheard a conversation between two ladies at the gym about a mutual friend of theirs undergoing her third lumpectomy. Third. On the same breast. Again, I was minding my own business, sweating like a pro wrestler and sucking wind while I finished up my cardio. As I plucked my earbuds out of my ears, what do I hear over the sound of my own heavy breathing as my heart is pumping and my lungs are expanding and my muscles are burning and my brow is dripping? Cancer. More cancer.
I resisted the urge to insert myself into the conversation and tell those ladies to advise their friend to skip that THIRD lumpectomy on the SAME BREAST and instead strap on her battle gear because this beast is determined to take up residence in her. Cancer is very rude that way. Uninvited, unwanted. Always around. 
The Pink Underbelly 
I think I have a small inkling of what you are talking about and that’s enough. I wish there were some way to blind you to the reminders. I know it’s too much to ask that you never had cancer, but surely you deserve a bit of amnesia so you don’t have to relive the horror on a random Wednesday in the carpool lane.
I’m glad you’re blogging, but I’d rather you were “done”. Maybe you could do a couple of posts on the progress of the new house. I’m excited for your family as you transition into your new digs. Hang in there.
My aunt died of breast cancer when I was in college. My uncle eventually remarried, and just found out yesterday his new wife has breast cancer. I hate this disease.
Susan, I can relate. My husband’s first wife died of breast cancer. A few years later, he remarried me. Two-and-a-half years into our marriage, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I actually thought I was immune because, how could 1 man end up with 2 wives with breast cancer? Turns out, his chances we close to 50%. But here’s the good news: Your uncle has vast knowledge and experience and will (I am betting) be a great asset to his new wife as she embarks on this detour. {{{hugs}}} all around and sorry to hijack Pink’s blog post here!
I know what you mean. Watching my mother-in-law slowly die from cancer of unknown primary origin (CUP) brings up fears of recurrence for me. It has robbed her of any dignity. She is as stubborn in dying as she was in living. Cancer was always out there, but until it affected me personally, I don’t think I gave it a second thought.
Yup, its the thing that wouldn’t leave. 32 years and counting for me.
Happy to see you back in the blogosphere:)
http://www.perksofcancer.com
I agree, cancer is always around. Especially in the back of my mind, where it pops in and out to haunt and taunt me.
So happy to see you back blogging!
Great post. I was just thinking about this in a similar vein for me and my health journey.
[…] back to The Pink Underbelly – she hasn’t gone away And a warm welcome back too to Yvonne of Coke Floats and […]
I was considering taking a 30 day challenge where I try not to say the word “cancer” for 30 days. Not sure if I could do it… but I really might try it out. 🙂