The Big Oh-Five — A Place to dwell

Today is kind of a big day. It’s been five years since I had surgery to remove cancer from my body. In the world of breast cancer, it’s a REALLY big day. I’m not just cancer-free anymore. Five years cancer-free in the world of breast cancer means I’m CURED.

I haven’t blogged in a while; partly because I haven’t had time, but partly because I haven’t felt compelled to write anything you’d want to read. I kept starting to write and finding dead ends everywhere…realizing I was forcing it. Guess it was classic writer’s block and I’m not totally sure it’s gone. But this subject felt like a no-brainer. Kind of a first-day-back-to-school “How I Spent My Summer” essay, but what I’ve learned in the last five years as a legit cancer survivor. I could write volumes. For your sake I didn't, and you're welcome. Here’s the short list in no particular order:

1. Finding out I had cancer was surprising. Not in the I can’t believe I have cancer kind of way (although that was definitely a part of it), but more of an I can’t believe I’m not freaking out kind of way.

2. In the room where I sat by myself waiting to receive the news, God told me he would make me brave. And he did, but at the time I didn’t know that it wasn’t for me. He made me brave so I could help others be brave. What a gift.

3. God uses circumstances like this to humble us. To help us understand that he wants the best for us, yes…but he also wants to use us to help others be strong and be their best. Through cancer, surgery and chemotherapy he humbled me. After surgery I had to rely on others to wait on me (anyone who knows me well will tell you I suck at this), and after chemo I had moments of complete humiliation, shame, as well as intense pain and fatigue. Not so good at that, either. Medication that causes weight gain, hot flashes, fatigue. And let’s not forget the fairly noticeable lack of hair.

4. Humility gives us grace. Grace gives us empathy. Empathy gives us the ability to feel other people’s pain so real in your gut that it becomes YOUR pain. And that’s what surviving cancer should be about. It should be about sitting with others in their pain and dark places and not saying a word. It’s about realizing that we don’t really know how someone feels. EVER. That’s humility, and grace, and empathy. It’s understanding that we don’t understand.

5. I have AMAZING people in my life. When I took a 3-month leave of absence from work, Kelly and Molly made me a “Joy Jar” full of daily affirmations, bible verses, and things to make me laugh. People brought me wonderful and healthy meals after chemo when I just didn’t have energy to cook. Endless, endless prayers. They held me up when I couldn’t. They texted and called and emailed. They just WERE. Somehow they knew that was exactly what I needed. I wish I could thank each one individually.

6. I have more joy. I’m more grateful. I love more deeply. I'm more aware.

7. In spite of all of the above, I feel guilty for being a survivor. I don’t know why God said “yes” to me, but “no” to others. I don’t know, and I hate it. I HATE IT. I don’t want anyone to die from cancer (well, to be honest I wouldn’t mind Charles Manson or rapists or child molesters). And I have no idea how to relate to those that have been given a more difficult prognosis than mine. I can empathize all day long with people that endure surgery and chemo and will get better, but then there are those that after all of the treatment and the hope and the praying…gah. I hate it. But I feel I would be disingenuous if I said I wasn’t thankful that I did survive, and I don’t think those with more serious prognoses would expect it.

In summary: I wouldn’t trade any of it. Not one moment of it, no matter how challenging, for what I’ve learned or how I’ve grown. How my heart has changed. The joy and comfort that I have found when God comes so near that I feel the warmth of his breath and his touch because that’s exactly what and all that I need. When I heard him say “I see you, and I know.” That whatever hardships we have to overcome, we can be brave. Lastly, how important it is to realize that sometimes, maybe, the courage that he gives is not only for us.