How do you say goodbye to a year that has both blessed and cursed you? How do you welcome in a New Year with all the promise it brings while you live in fear of more health problems, and while you watch while people with your kind of cancer drop away?
I am conflicted this New Year's Eve.
This last year has brought about more tears and challenges than I would have ever expected, but while I was hanging on during the storm of cancer surgeries, I was also being blessed by many things, too. My family worrying about me, complete strangers telling me they would pray for me, my friends online and IRL letting me know they were here if I needed them, gifts I was sent, just the complete outpouring of love. One other great blessing I learned is that whatever happens to me, I'll get through. I'm not the wuss that I was.
I'm stronger than I thought I was.
While this knowledge does make a difference in the way I view things now, it still can't shield me completely when people still get diagnosed with this cancer, when friends struggle through their own cancer journies, when friends...die...from this cancer.
When I wonder if it will come back, and when...where in my body...how long will I fight...
Welcome to Cancer-Land, it's a whole other country.
My sister today suggested that I get therapy to help me deal with all that happened this year, and all that could happen. I didn't take it as an insult because we've both been through therapy, but I'm wondering if that's what I really need. Isn't this a normal reaction when one has a serious illness? Sometimes it feels like people want to rush me through this year, through this cancer. Yes, I'm in remission, yes it may not come back for years and years, but I have to make this journey at my own pace. Just because it's over for YOU doesn't mean it's over for ME. It probably won't be totally over...EVER. Because my kind of cancer has no cure, and I know that. It hides, sometimes for years, but most of the time it comes back. I've resigned myself to that, but I don't want to think about it constantly.
I'm so scared. I'm so happy. I want to cry. I want to celebrate.
I'm so conflicted.
I guess it's not impossible to cry AND laugh at the same time, I know I've done it before. maybe that's what I need to do...both.
Cry for the people lost this year, cry for the pain of loved ones mourning, cry for all the heartache that may come in the new year, but laugh at all the funny moments this year, all the love shown to me, all the victories of getting through every single surgery like a trooper.
2011 you will ALWAYS be remembered, for the good as well as the bad.
2012 I won't ask for much, just let me live and enjoy every minute. Let me laugh, let me show love to others, let me feel the sun on my face without fear.
And if anything bad should happen...
Let me FIGHT.
I am conflicted this New Year's Eve.
This last year has brought about more tears and challenges than I would have ever expected, but while I was hanging on during the storm of cancer surgeries, I was also being blessed by many things, too. My family worrying about me, complete strangers telling me they would pray for me, my friends online and IRL letting me know they were here if I needed them, gifts I was sent, just the complete outpouring of love. One other great blessing I learned is that whatever happens to me, I'll get through. I'm not the wuss that I was.
I'm stronger than I thought I was.
While this knowledge does make a difference in the way I view things now, it still can't shield me completely when people still get diagnosed with this cancer, when friends struggle through their own cancer journies, when friends...die...from this cancer.
When I wonder if it will come back, and when...where in my body...how long will I fight...
Welcome to Cancer-Land, it's a whole other country.
My sister today suggested that I get therapy to help me deal with all that happened this year, and all that could happen. I didn't take it as an insult because we've both been through therapy, but I'm wondering if that's what I really need. Isn't this a normal reaction when one has a serious illness? Sometimes it feels like people want to rush me through this year, through this cancer. Yes, I'm in remission, yes it may not come back for years and years, but I have to make this journey at my own pace. Just because it's over for YOU doesn't mean it's over for ME. It probably won't be totally over...EVER. Because my kind of cancer has no cure, and I know that. It hides, sometimes for years, but most of the time it comes back. I've resigned myself to that, but I don't want to think about it constantly.
I'm so scared. I'm so happy. I want to cry. I want to celebrate.
I'm so conflicted.
I guess it's not impossible to cry AND laugh at the same time, I know I've done it before. maybe that's what I need to do...both.
Cry for the people lost this year, cry for the pain of loved ones mourning, cry for all the heartache that may come in the new year, but laugh at all the funny moments this year, all the love shown to me, all the victories of getting through every single surgery like a trooper.
2011 you will ALWAYS be remembered, for the good as well as the bad.
2012 I won't ask for much, just let me live and enjoy every minute. Let me laugh, let me show love to others, let me feel the sun on my face without fear.
And if anything bad should happen...
Let me FIGHT.
Oh man, Becca. This post gave me chills. I feel EXACTLY the same way. This is by far my FAVORITE post you have ever written. So well done, lady. I love it! And I love you, my melanoma friend.
ReplyDeleteHow can it be that we don't know each other but feel the same way? Diagnosed in June and still trying to come to terms with it all. Your post really hit home with me.
ReplyDeleteWow this sooo hit home. I was diagnosed on Nov 8th and still coming to grips with it all. Trying to find "Peace" in it somehow. I pray for all that are in this battle!! Prayer's for you Becca :))
ReplyDeleteSaying that I know exactly how you feel - usually gets people looking at you thinking "how could you know - until you walk in my shoes". Well, those of use with a melanoma diagnosis can actually say that and you know they know. Your words say it all. Rejoice because we are in remission. Be vigilant so we stay that way. Feel sorrow for those of us still fighting the battle. Find peace somehow,,,,some way. Peace to you in 2012. I know how you feel. Carolyn - Dodged a Bullet-Fight Against Melanoma
ReplyDeleteI am 47, and struggled for two years with Stage IV metastatic melanoma. I have been in "remission" for two year this December, but everyday I struggle with all the feelings you so eloquently have expressed here. I've been told by a therapist it is a form of PTSD. I have decided I must seek help from a professional who specializes in this type of cancer PTSD, but I still believe that no one who hasn't experienced the pain and mental torture of this disease can no truly understand. Thank you for your post on this the dawn of a New Year of living on!
ReplyDeleteHEARTFELT AND WARMING.. I BELIEVE THIS IS WHAT MELANOMA DOES TO THOSE FIGHTING AND THOSE WHO ARE SURROUNDED BY IT- MY HUSBAND IS FIGHTING STAGE IV SINCE OCT 2010- AND AT MOMENTS ALL I CAN THINK IS WILL HE BE HERE NEXT YEAR? STARTING 2010- AND THEN I THINK YES, YES HE WILL... CONFLICTED BATTLEGROUND OF THE HEART.. THAT'S WHAT I CALL IT- KEEP FIGHTING AND KNOW YOU'RE NOT ALONE!! GOD BLESS
ReplyDeleteYes, I think you should find someone to talk to. I lost my husband to melanoma, and having a counselor helped me survive it. If anything, I came to realize that all my feelings were real and normal. Also, it gives you someone to talk to that is non-biased. My very supportive and loving family and friends needed to still be my family and friends and to fill that role. I needed someone else who was just there to listen, and didn't try to take away what I was feeling, or downplay it or make me feel better. Plus sometimes I had things I wanted to say that were negative about my family or friends, and I felt so guilty to say it to them...like when you said it feels like they are trying to rush you through this. I felt if I told them, I would hurt their feelings or seem unappreciative. But I could tell my counselor, and she helped me work through it, come up with good ideas on how to handle it, and to feel better about it. Here is how I look at it...I needed an army of people to help me through this, each taking on their own purpose. Don't forget that you just need someone to listen who isn't caught up in their own feelings about you and caring for you. I hope I am making sense. Now another thing, I was the caretaker. My husband saw a counselor once, but not until he was very sick. By then, he didn't want a stranger to talk to. I wish he would have gone sooner just to help him deal with all the emotions. I know it isn't as easy as just saying you should go. It has to be something that works for you. Either way, I wish you much peace and great health.
ReplyDeleteBecca, My heartfelt thanks for your post. As my wife put it, I could have written it, it so mirrors my experiences of the last year. You have inspired me to start my own blog. Mostly because of people like you out there who will understand the emotional roller coaster that melanoma entails. I've never actually talked to anyone else who has experienced it. I was diagnosed with stage IV melanoma in January of last year and am currently on an experimental drug called MEK162 and in remission. I'm 59 years old and I'll be praying for you.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful post and thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI don't know how to reply to individual comments on here, still learning, but I just want to thank EVERYONE for taking the time to read it, and comment about it. And to Darryll who said I inspired him to start a blog, that really makes me tear up. I think it's the best thing we can do, sharing our stories and our fears and strengths with each other. So we know we're not alone. You all have really made my day by these comments. :)
ReplyDeleteBecca,
ReplyDeleteYour words are shouting to me and the tears are that of happiness that your alive to tell your story. You have been through so much and your faith and your love for life is strong. We don't know what tomorrow brings so lets celebrate today. Hugs!
Thanks for sharing. I'm 36 years old and a stage 2 melanoma survivor. I have been cancer free for 2 years. On my one year anniversary I ran my first marathon. I'm a former teacher, mother of 2 young girls and former sun goddess. I'm married to my best friend who doesn't get why i worry about melanoma returning or showing up elsewhere. No one really gets it. They don't think skin cancer is "real" cancer. My younger sisters still lay in the tanning beds. I'm covered in moles and each trip to the derm makes me nervous. I was denied life insurance because "statistically I'm a bad risk", that was a low point. I live life a little fuller and appreciate each birthday and holiday that i get to spend with my kids, knowing they could have been numbered. I've never shared on any blog. A few days after i was diagnosed i heard Mat Kearney's "Closer to Love", it moved me to tears. Listen to it! He's become a favorite and I saw him sing it live....very moving. Keep blogging, you inspired me to finally comment! I've been following your story. Wishing you all the best in 2012.
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