Bursting My Balloon


I had to be reminded that I have cancer. I really hadn’t thought about it in those terms.  A friend of mine, a doctor, felt it necessary to tell me that yesterday.  I had cancer.  I have cancer.  And I will continue to have cancer until it, or some other illness or accident, claims my life.  Remission? I will never be cured.  I may one day be told that my cancer isn’t expanding or easy to find.  But, it will always be there.

Well that’s pretty bleak.   We are not machines.  I am totally aware that I will not live forever.  I don’t think I would want to.  But I think that hope is as important as oxygen.   And at some point you have to have faith in the doctors, the hospitals, and the system to guide you towards a positive outcome.  Even if a cure is not possible, relief from pain or an extra year or two might be.   Maintaining one’s focus on those realistic outcomes seems to be more productive than wallowing in despair or anger.

You can’t un-hear a conversation. Or at least, I can’t.  So I will move forward with the full undeniable knowledge that I have cancer.  The important part of that last sentence isn’t that I have cancer.  No, the most important words are that I will move forward.