The treatment process for cancer is like being stuck inside a revolving door. You enter into it, nervous and anxious as to whether you'll make it out to the other side, freedom so close to your finger tips, just to be dragged back in and spun around, landing exactly where you started. On and on the door spins, meanwhile you're trapped inside, struggling to break free, begging mercilessly for someone to help you out.
People say there's a light at the end of the tunnel with cancer treatment - that soon enough, it will be over. All of this will be put behind you and then you can move forward with your life. What people who aren't going through it don't understand is that you're stuck in the door, with no one to break you free, scared and ultimately alone. There is no light at the end of the tunnel when you're in that door - only spinning, anxiety, fear, and exhaustion. It's hard to look ahead to the future when you're just trying to make it through today. I can't even allow myself to hope for a future without cancer, because I'm not sure it exists. I'm starting to convince myself that no matter what I do - surgery, chemo, radiation - cancer will kill me. I'm afraid I'll be stuck in this door forever.
I know that with time, this fear will fade. That with each passing day of remission, I'll be able to have hope for my future, and cancer won't be something that's constantly on my mind. If anything, cancer should be a reason for me to live more in the moment and be less afraid - take risks, try new things, say yes to new opportunities - and I hope to get there one day. For now, though, I'm stuck in the door, being tossed into another phase of treatment.
One day soon I hope to find the strength to break the glass.
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