Godspeed, beautiful.
Nancy died May 16, 2009, at the age of 47. Screw you, cancer.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/nancywehrell
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Nancy
Godspeed, beautiful.
Nancy died May 16, 2009, at the age of 47. Screw you, cancer.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/nancywehrell
Friday, May 15, 2009
Identity Crisis
I am not cancer.
I don't even have cancer any more. (As far as we know).
I quit oncology rehab because I didn't want to feel like a cancer patient - and I wasn't.
But I still take a little white pill every day. A subtle reminder that the beast lurks...
And now I have ALOT of friends who have cancer. Comes with the territory. Every week someone gets mets, or finds a new lump, or dies. It's exhausting. I am torn between wanting to be there for them, and wanting to run away from the whole thing. I can't bring myself to attend a "cancer event" like Relay for Life or the Run for Women.
A month or so ago I looked at Todd and said, "Wow. I'm 100% again. When did that happen?" I am fortunate. I don't have lingering issues from cancer treatment. Many of my friends still have a LOT of issues from the treatment..... and some will never be done with treatment. Until they are gone.
I'm the lucky one. One little pill every day. No side effects. My fertility is compromised, but I hadn't planned to have any more babies.....so I can't really complain about that. My blood work last week was perfect (a little anemic), and the oncologist smiled. They don't smile very often.
The survior guilt seems to have passed.
Oh, and I can't feel my foobs. But who cares, really? I'm alive.
But I don't want to be the girl who had cancer. I'm not sure how to shake that. I don't want it to define me, but the experienced has definitely impacted me.
Maybe it's all just semantics.
I don't even have cancer any more. (As far as we know).
I quit oncology rehab because I didn't want to feel like a cancer patient - and I wasn't.
But I still take a little white pill every day. A subtle reminder that the beast lurks...
And now I have ALOT of friends who have cancer. Comes with the territory. Every week someone gets mets, or finds a new lump, or dies. It's exhausting. I am torn between wanting to be there for them, and wanting to run away from the whole thing. I can't bring myself to attend a "cancer event" like Relay for Life or the Run for Women.
A month or so ago I looked at Todd and said, "Wow. I'm 100% again. When did that happen?" I am fortunate. I don't have lingering issues from cancer treatment. Many of my friends still have a LOT of issues from the treatment..... and some will never be done with treatment. Until they are gone.
I'm the lucky one. One little pill every day. No side effects. My fertility is compromised, but I hadn't planned to have any more babies.....so I can't really complain about that. My blood work last week was perfect (a little anemic), and the oncologist smiled. They don't smile very often.
The survior guilt seems to have passed.
Oh, and I can't feel my foobs. But who cares, really? I'm alive.
But I don't want to be the girl who had cancer. I'm not sure how to shake that. I don't want it to define me, but the experienced has definitely impacted me.
Maybe it's all just semantics.
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