Nice to feel normal
This was the first "normal" weekend I've had in a long, long time. I had energy, I felt good, I had a big appetite. Jason and I went to see a movie (Bourne Ultimatum - lots of fun!!) and I got new funky glasses and new sunglasses. It's just so amazing to feel good again. Sometimes you don't even realize how bad you've gotten until you start to get better. I'd forgotten what it felt like not to have pain and feel crappy. It's nice to feel normal.
It's funny - at Lenscrafters, the woman helping us asked me what I was wearing on my arm (I had on the fuchsia armsleeve). So I told her my story. In the past, I've always started the story, "I'm a breast cancer survivor." I feel weird saying that now, even though it's still true. So I say, "I have breast cancer," which is more true. I told her about lymphedema, and the idea for LympheDIVAs, and she thought it was great. And then, like most people who I meet and tell this story to, she said, "So, you're fine now, right?" Human nature invariably wants a happy ending. I told her that the disease had metastasized; she didn't know what that meant. I think there was a time many, many years ago when I didn't know what metastatic meant. But it's almost inconceivable to me now for an adult not to know that. That blissful ignorance - I envied her. I guess we're all just waiting for the day when no one knows what "metastatic cancer" means, because it won't exist.
It's funny - at Lenscrafters, the woman helping us asked me what I was wearing on my arm (I had on the fuchsia armsleeve). So I told her my story. In the past, I've always started the story, "I'm a breast cancer survivor." I feel weird saying that now, even though it's still true. So I say, "I have breast cancer," which is more true. I told her about lymphedema, and the idea for LympheDIVAs, and she thought it was great. And then, like most people who I meet and tell this story to, she said, "So, you're fine now, right?" Human nature invariably wants a happy ending. I told her that the disease had metastasized; she didn't know what that meant. I think there was a time many, many years ago when I didn't know what metastatic meant. But it's almost inconceivable to me now for an adult not to know that. That blissful ignorance - I envied her. I guess we're all just waiting for the day when no one knows what "metastatic cancer" means, because it won't exist.
posted by Rachel Troxell at 10:56 PM
1 Comments:
It's SO good to have Rachel back! Eating, going out, having fun, chatty Rachel - she's been gone much too long! Certainly if you're living day to day (as many of us who do know the meaning of metastatic, whether personally or through friends, do), right now you ARE a survivor. Every good day you're a survivor, enjoying living life to its fullest. When bad days come, you'll deal with them, because you'll remember that the good ones WILL come back. As for right now - I'm so happy for you! Love, Connie
Post a Comment
<< Home