For Those Who Have Survived Cancer
Have you shed the “mental baggage?”
It’s been about five and a half years, or maybe six — I’m not sure as I tend to block such things out — since I last called my Dad on Father’s Day, or dropped off a gift.
He’s no longer around as he died from Stage 4 lung cancer, as did my mother, two weeks after her husband of sixty-plus years.
Around the time they passed, I was finishing up four weeks of radiation therapy for my own diagnosis of breast cancer. Caught early, thankfully.
It was a triple diagnosis for my family and about as surreal as it gets. As anyone who has experienced this knows, a cancer diagnosis changes you. Like, forever.
Even though I realize how blessed I am, I realize that I must be ever vigilant. Because the specter of this evil disease takes purchase in the deepest recesses of my brain, taunting me, whispering to me in the wee hours, “Will it come back?” “Where, and when?”
That’s not a way to live and I know that. But it’s damn near impossible not to obsess over every odd bump, sore and mole that pops up on my body.
If you’re one of the roughly 1.8 million people diagnosed with cancer in this year alone, sadly, you know where I’m coming from.
The good news is, there have been strides in eradicating the disease, albeit unbearably slow. New and advanced therapies, including alternative, less traditional methods have gone far in creating a new reality where cancer doesn’t have to be a death sentence.
So, yes. I am incredibly grateful to be here, writing this. I just wish I knew how to get cancer out of my head. Do you know what I mean?
For us survivors, do we have to be burdened with this albatross for the rest of our days? That is not a way to live. It’s certainly not “living in the present.”
Perhaps that is the penance we pay for surviving. The emotional baggage that accompanies a cancer diagnosis.
When it comes to cancer, my gene pool is like a Petri dish, rife with the carcinogenic little bastards that have invaded the bodies of several family members.
As I said, both my parents suffered from Stage 4 lung cancer. My uncle, my mother’s brother, was stricken with both lung and throat cancer. My aunt, my mother’s sister, died from lung cancer. My grandfather on my Dad’s side died of lung cancer.
Cancer, cancer, everywhere. Any doctor would find my family history to be “concerning” at the very least. And so do I. It’s fucked up and I have a hard time processing it.
I don’t like to think about the fact that my uncle was systematically cut up. That he had to have part of a lung removed, and then his larynx. A big, boisterous guy who loved a good joke, and could tell one, he was never the same after that.
My aunt was a happy-go-lucky gal even though she’d been through much in her too-short life. She was cracking jokes up until the end. My Mom and her youngest sister shared the same sense of humor. Sarcastic and irreverent.
I guess that’s where I get it from.
My sister doesn’t seem to be as affected by all this as I am. Of course, she’s never been diagnosed with cancer, thank God. As for my brother, I wouldn’t know as we haven’t spoken to him in nearly six years. But, that said, I have a feeling he dwells on this stuff, as I do. Even though we haven’t spoken, I know his personality.
How about you? If you’ve survived cancer, how do you deal mentally? Do you choose to block it out? Or do you embrace it, as a reminder to practice gratitude every day?
I’m not sure where I am in this. Teetering on the fence between both mentalities, I suppose. And, with so much else to worry about these days, we have to pick and choose our emotional battles.
Of course, with OCD and anxiety, I find I have to fight that much harder to remain on stable ground. But I’ll take it because at least, I’m here. Writing to you. That’s a gift I can wrap both my head and heart around.
As always, I welcome your feedback. Thank you for reading.
Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.
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