I’m writing this article because of a request from a reader.
I am a cancer survivor, but, thankfully, that is not so unusual anymore. As my dear sister-in-law says, we belong to that exclusive club that no one wants membership in. Yes, I know that’s ending a sentence in a preposition, but I don’t care. You see, that’s one of the perks of surviving cancer. Little things just don’t seem that important anymore.
I was lucky enough to have a kind of cancer that was very slow growing. It took many doctors, some prayer, and 2 years to find out what was causing my pain. It’s not a common cancer and I don’t feel comfortable giving details, but let’s just say there are no pink ribbons and races for the cure for my type.
My husband arranged his work schedule so he could take me to my treatments at the city hospital about 30 miles away. Just as this was getting more difficult to arrange he was laid off. Well, his entire division was eliminated; you know how that goes. It was fortunate for us in that now he had the time to not only drive me to the treatments, but he could take care of me at home as I become more and more bed-ridden.
I had never watched American Idol before, but when it’s second season started I was on the couch all the time I wasn’t in bed. The tv was on as a kind of background noise as I drifted in and out of sleep. After having the news channel or weather channel on in the daytime, American Idol became a way to mark time in those weeks. It was more pleasant than just the news.
Fast forward to 5 months later and I was finished with treatments. I was weak, tired, but happy to be done with those daily hospital visits. As I gained strength and my mind began to clear (yes, there is such a thing as chemo brain) I noticed a strange emotion. Yes, I was overjoyed that I was alive and done with treatments. But I was also noticing that I was annoyed when anyone complained about small things. How can such things be important? I have adjusted to being back to “normal life” in that I know ordinary tasks must be done, but I still have that impatience. That saying, “Don’t sweat the small stuff; it’s all small stuff” must have come from a cancer survivor.
I do look for ways to have fun more than before I had cancer. Life is precious and every day is a reason to celebrate. I still like to plan for the future, but I think I cherish those little moments more than before the cancer. One of my favorites recently was when my daughter and daughter-in-law and I were at a family dinner. We were sitting together at one end of a big table with the extended family all there. We started laughing about the dessert coffee we three had ordered as a kind of guilty pleasure. It might sound like nothing, but to me it was a moment of comraderie that was one of the highlights of the holiday season. A gift.
At first, my husband had planned to find another job after I was better, since he was only 61. At 62 he took his social security benefits. He was lucky to get a pension from his job, the only place he’d ever worked. ( Those situations are rare these days.) Our youngest child was in college for 3 more years and that was a drain on our finances as well. As time went by, it seemed we could get by without my husband getting a new job. Plus at his age it was difficult to find a job. We had always been frugal, but during those years we got our black belts in frugality. When our youngest graduated from college it was like getting a huge raise! We’ve been enjoying our retirement, spending our money on things that make us happy, like travel, and most of all spending time with family and friends.
If a serious illness comes into your life it can shake your world to its core. But with a loving support system you can come through it to better days. Even if you don’t have a loving support system, you will get through it and come out of that tunnel (because it feels like a tunnel) into the light of day again. And when you get impatient with those who haven’t been through that tunnel, try to realize what you have is a gift, the gift of knowing what is important!
Maggie says
Oregonsun, thank you for sharing your experience. I believe you have summed up perfectly the change that happens. Working to make a difference for others, no matter how tiny (indeed!), becomes the focus. We find that there are always ways to help others. We mostly focus on helping our extended family (as they always have needs), but we need to expand our horizon too. Thank you for expressing so beautifully the metamorphosis that happens.
Oregonsun says
Truly every word that you shared I do also. It has been five years since my second diagnosis with cancer. The second time was full blown surgery, chemo, pills, etc.
Yes, there is not a day that I don’t wake up and give thanks for being alive and functioning. It has changed me until I am no longer recognizable as the person I used to be. I have learned to be content and not strive for “more things”, to have more compassion for those hurting in this world. I am working on steps to make a difference (no matter how tiny) for others in their life. I want to give more, do more and be more for others. I am blessed to be alive and I want to do my small part to bless others.
Thank you for sharing a part of the journey that none of us wanted.
Maggie says
Thanks, anexactinglife. It’s amazing to me how a person can get through almost anything. They say everyone is fighting some kind of battle.
anexactinglife says
Hi Maggie, thank you for sharing your personal story. So inspiring! While I don’t wish severe adversity on anyone, it sure does put things in perspective.
Maggie says
Anonymous, I just wanted to add that you can contact me via Twitter “Direct Mail” if you ever want to talk. It will come directly to my email account and my replies will go directly to your email. Neither of us will know each other’s real email address, so there’s that kind of anonymity. Of course I’d know your Twitter name in order to do this. Not saying you have to or anything. Just wanted you to know I’m available if you need someone to talk to sometime. Just DM me on Twitter whenever.
Maggie says
Stay Anonymous as long as you like. I believe in privacy and comfort level. I really appreciate what you wrote. My sister-in-law had leukemia and beat it twice. She is now able to do everything except eat at buffets. Getting a bone marrow transplant seemed to help her the most, but of course every situation is different. She is so grateful to the anonymous donor somewhere in Germany. If anyone wants to become a bone marrow donor, you could save a life that way. You need to be in good health and in your 20s I think. Just ask your doctor.
I wish you strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes that’s all it takes. I’m so glad you found what I wrote helpful. One never knows. It’s just my experience. Hang in there. Sending prayers for your child and for you. And I’ll keep putting up posts about those silly things in life that do somehow keep us going.
Maggie
Anonymous says
Thanks for putting the story up about cancer – yes every day is a gift. Sleeping in your own bed at home is a gift. It has given our family a new appreciation of everything and much more patience than any self help book could ever bestow. Our 12 year old is in the middle of fighting for his life against leukemia. I read your blog an others to keep my mind occupied and away from cancer thoughts when I have a moment. Thanks for answering my anonymous request for more info. The insight you shared is uplifting and EXACTLY what I needed to read. Thanks for a great blog and a post that pertains to cancer but will encourage many.
Sorry to remain anonymous but that is my comfort level. Thank you so much!!
Maggie says
Travis, I’m sorry you are going through this. It’s never easy. I send my best wishes to your father and the family. You never know what they might come up with in medical research. There is always hope. They’ve made such strides with many cancers already. For some people it becomes a kind of chronic condition that requires periodic treatment. For all, it is a time to reorder priorities and value what is most important. Take care.
Maggie says
Thanks, MC. I’m cancer-free for over 7 years now & that’s as close as a person gets to being “cured.” Every day is a gift.
Travis @debtchronicles says
Thanks for sharing your story, Maggie. It really hits home for me right now. My father was diagnosed with Prostate cancer in 2009, and had his prostate removed in early 2010. For a year and a half all signs were they had got it all, however late last year indicators started flagging that maybe that wasn’t true. He may be starting radiation treatment soon. Since both my grandfathers had prostate cancer too, I’m very wary about my chances later in life.
Additionally, my wife’s Aunt had been feeling a little sluggish lately, went into the doctor and found out she had two different types of cancer (all over her body) and they gave her 2 months to live.
Quite a shock.
Many times in the last few weeks have my wife and I had a very similar discussion regarding not worrying about small stuff, and to remember to just enjoy life each and every day.
MoneyCone says
Wow Maggie that is an incredible story. I’m very glad your trying days are over. Sometimes it takes a setback to realize what how precious life is.
Stay strong. Your story is an inspiration.
Maggie says
Thanks very much, Hunter. I’m sorry I made you miss your family. If it makes you feel any better, I moved away from home when I got married too. Not so far as you, but I got to see my parents, siblings, and the extended family 2 or 3 times a year. I missed them terribly, but as our kids were born it helped. Now that we’re retired, we have the freedom to travel to see our family. There is time for everything eventually. Hang in there!
Hunter says
Congratulations on surviving cancer Maggie. I started blogging so that I could write honest articles like your story here, thanks for sharing. It’s funny though, how this article made me really miss my family. Your description of the coffeee with your daughter & daughter in-law brought it home for me how geographically isolated ans separated I have become from my family. I grew up surrounded by a close-knit family support group. My decisions (moving overseas, married to a sailor) have removed me from that and I’m ok with this 99% of the time. I value my family too, and wish I could see more of them.