News of recurrence rolls around me like thunder in the distance. Thunder that comes in bundles of claps one after another. Some rolling in softly from a far distance and some loud, sharp because their proximity is deafening. All a reminder that a storm can pop up on the radar at any time and you are waiting to see if it will blow in. I learned early the dangers of looking to another for hope and inspiration but I sometimes I forget.
Is there any other disease that plays this game? Surely there is. We can’t hold the market on this scary unknown. An unknown that is in each of us, cancer or no cancer, it doesn’t wake until cancer.
“You can’t live your life looking up for the storm clouds.” I can imagine the thoughts wanting to comfort me or wishing I could just let it go.
You don’t understand and I don’t want you to truly understand because to truly understand you would have to be outside in the storm with us. If you were outside in the storm with us you would see. We don’t walk with our head to sky all the time. We are trying to move on. We do move on. We move amongst you. We laugh with you. We enjoy life and dare I say, we see it with different eyes. Everything looks brighter and darker at the same time after cancer. At least that’s my experience.
Maybe I can help you understand without standing in the storm. Go back to a time when you were outside and heard the roll of thunder. What did you do? Did you look? Did you scan the sky to see if you can find the storm? Did you go into assess mode to calculate your risk. That’s what we do…or I do. I hear the thunder and I look up. Storms are just a past experience until I hear the thunder. Lately, I hear the thunder a lot and it brings down a slow rain on my face. I search for an umbrella to keep myself dry and wish I had a way to keep all the rest dry too. I don’t really have either so I keep us in my heart.
