Today is the two year anniversary of my mastectomy. It was a very hard day to get out of bed. I remember fear and a feeling of being in the Twilight Zone. How could this actually be happening? Who are these many, many people swarming all around me? How am I going to feel, look, function – survive – when I wake up?
I also remember a well of courage I’ve only had to call on a few times before in my life. I can do this. I can have faith in my doctors and in my decisions. I can take this leap and do the right thing to make sure I’m here for my husband and children. I can wake up and move on with my life. I can be my own hero and face down cancer.
Because of that courage, which we all have in us, today is a day of celebration. Today I am especially aware of how far I have come in the past two years in both my physical and emotional healing. Truthfully, April 15, 2009, wasn’t my worst cancer day. Due to the magic of anesthesia, I remember floating on a cloud while an angel in white tended to me – which was the first moment of peace I had since my September mammogram six and a half months before. There was no such drug-induced peace in the days, weeks and months later when I was left to heal, emotionally and physically. Throughout the next year or so, I hit emotional lows I hope I never see again. The truth is, however, that by letting myself experience and work through them, I got to today.
So, today is a very good day. It is a tremendous gift to know yourself and what you are capable of doing. Once you know it, you can put that faith in your pocket where it will safely stay in case you ever need it again. I’m going out to lunch today with my husband, like we did last year on the one year anniversary. I will be celebrating my survival, healing and the surprising gifts of cancer.
Survival > Existence,
Image courtesy of pdxkelly