The Challenges of Surviving
Well, folks here we are again. October. First person says "Pinktober" gets throat punched (that's for you, RK).
It's been a while. A long while. I've been living, working, training, racing, all those normal (haha, "normal") things people do. And I guess everyone has their own stuff, their own version of "normal." It's almost a hypothetical concept.
I have a lot of new friends since I last wrote on the subject. People who have known me for these past 24 years and those in my inner most circle know that breast cancer tried to take me out. I won that battle obviously, however it left some pretty significant collateral damage. Very few of my friends have been subjected to that shit show.
October 23, 1998. My personal D-Day. D as is Devastation, Demolition, Desolation, Don't Die, and Dauntless Determination. October for me is like Taper. I am prone to bouts of anger, sadness, melancholy, survivor guilt, et al.
In 24 years, believe me, I have heard and felt the love and acceptance (there's a "wink, wink" for you RB).
But.
Had I known then, were I to have a do-over, I would have made different decisions. But 1998 was before pink ribbons and 5ks, before stage 0 cancer. Treatment was very different and I was in trouble, so desperate times and all that. And I felt very much alone in this. A bomb went off and all the shrapnel hit me.
We talk a lot about grief in the context of death, loss of a loved one, but not so much as it relates to losing part of one's physical self and in some cases part of one's own identity. It fucks with you. And you try to be ok with it, try to say, "oh it's just this or just that" or worse, the ever popular "lucky to be alive." Yet, it festers. The reality is you will never be 100%.
But, a friend went public with a decision she had made (mad props ME) and I was fortified. However, I was fully expecting this to be completely on me, cost-wise. Much to my surprise, I am still considered a patient in some situations. And so I will be having surgery on Nov 21 to hopefully mitigate some of that damage. I doubt it will make me faster, but at least I will (hopefully) feel less like a Frankenathlete
It was a long road to get here and I'm not completely convinced anything will be better. Saying my first surgical experience was traumatic is an understatement of epic proportions. It's a huge trigger and I'm scared shitless and honestly still salty about the whole thing, but I stepped out of the shadows and into the unknown. I am "embracing uncertainty" as someone recently said to me. Yeah, that's bullshit. I hate uncertainty.
Almost 25 years and cancer is indeed the gift that keeps on giving...........the rest of that thought is a string of expletives deleted.
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