Five Is the Magic Number: I'm Technically Cancer Free!
Thursday, July 5, 2012 July 3rd, which was two days ago, marked five years since I was made relatively cancer-free by a Total Laparoscopic Hysterectomy, which is a procedure that removes the cervix and uterus while leaving the ovaries to do whatever it is that ovaries do when they are freed from their original compatriots.
Five years is the magic number. Had I not had severe fears about all doctors for the first three years after sugery, I would have gone to the doctor for a pap smear every six months and a yearly CT scan. I finally snapped into understanding the real possibility of death and have been fairly faithful with my appointments over the last two years. Each pap smear and CT scan showed nothing out of the ordinary.
That's disappointing every time, because I always kind of held out hope that they would find weird things inside me like bottle caps and keys and whatnot like that woman I read about as a kid in the Guinness Book of World Records who compulsively ate objects in her sleep. When they cut her open, they found all kinds of household items including hundreds of safety pins.
As I said, though, five is the magic number. At five years, I get to stop my bi-annual pap smears and CT scans. Technically, I am considered to be pretty much in the clear, and I can go on with my life without feeling like every doctor's appointment might be about how I'm going to die.
That "technically" is only the technical part, though. My heart doesn't understand that I'm free. Part of me imagines that a seed of the cancer remains and lies in wait, ready to spring into rapid growth with the right provocation.
I just stopped to remark to the Palinode that this post is turning out to be really depressing. When I started, I was going to be light-hearted and bright about it, because come on, I don't have cancer anymore.
I DON'T HAVE CANCER ANYMORE!
It turns out that once I was told I had cancer and let that fact sink in, I was never able to go back to feeling what it was like to not know I had cancer. The time before feels like an innocence I don't get to have anymore.
I've been weighted down with this for the last more than five years, but it just occurred to me during this exact moment right now as I'm writing this that this loss of innocence, like so many other hard things, is less of an obstacle and more of an invitation.
(If you've come this far through this entry, thank you, because it's these revelations part way through that really get us where we're going.)
I've always felt that I was robbed of a certain kind of innocence when I was told I had cancer, but, suddenly, I can see the invitation in it. I am being invited into a deeper understanding of my place here as a mortal being. I am being invited to value time in a new way.
I have always seen time as this cruel boundary that defines our eventual deaths — I've been gifted with such a sunny disposition, don't you know — but I just realized that it is also time which defines the boundaries around who we are and how we exist and what our relationships are to one another and the rest of the universe. Time makes whatever gifts we have here possible.
Time's defining boundary around our lives makes everything we love possible.
I think I've become just a little more hopeful.
I am five years and two days cancer-free today. I really am five years cancer-free today, and it turns out that this innocence we're all told to value so much isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Here's to letting life rob me of innocence for many more years to come!
Reader Comments (30)
Congrats! 20 months & counting for me. I know exactly what you mean (I think) about thinking about what lies in wait. Must celebrate & have more fun each day!
Angie
I was going to say congratulations, but then I thought, isn't that like congratulating someone for breathing? "Congratulations" seems like such a wan + paltry word for facing the possibility of one's own death and then instead deciding to take life by the balls and really live. Which is my judgment of what you did. You are a light and a beacon, even if you're not trying to be one. I hope to one day say I, too, am cancer free. Working on it. Good on you.
YAY for cancer-free and boo for the loss of innocence that life foists on us with its various forms of craptacular-ness.
At least the crap makes us appreciate the delightful all the more :)
This:
"Time's defining boundary around our lives makes everything we love possible0."
Ya slay me, gal.
Here's to many, many more years for you to come!
damn. I've been trying to spin that loss of innocence into a positive most of my life. An "invitation" - I need to ponder that. In the meantime, I'm making art out of it.
Yay! Congrats! and all that jazz :)
Beautiful! It has only recently occurred to me that, as much as I've pretended it to be so, I cannot predict my departure from my skin. It's made me think about time in a whole new way too.
Elated for you! For real. Deep down.
xoxo (like they say)
I loved the part about hoping doctors would find random objects inside you! Apart from that, CONGRATULATIONS! May you keep your innocence breathing as long as possible! Love Ya!
Yay for getting to the 5 year mark and being cancer free. I think you will always have that seed feeling of doubt because it is human nature to have the feeling even though the stamp of "freeness" is on your medical forms but it will always be there popping up when you least expect it.
Smile and enjoy !xoxo
YAY! Woo hoo! My best friend just passed 5 years a couple of months ago, and it was a huge hilite for me (we are a tad codependent).... and oh yeah for her too! Congrats!
Milestones: we (humans) like to mark them. For me, they are placeholders in my timeline-reference points for other parts of my life, as well.
Whatever purpose they ultimately serve, I'm so glad for you that you've hit this one.
For some reason I'm often hesitant to watch videos people post, and so I hadn't watched your TED talk yet. After I read this, I felt like I had better watch it immediately, and I'm so glad I did. Congratulations and thank you for helping me face my own self-doubt.
This is such happy, happy news! I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!
Happy happy good good!
It sounds so cliche but it really is the crappy stuff that makes us realize all the great stuff we have in our lives. I'm so so happy for you and look forward to reading your thoughtful (and thought provoking) words for years and years to come.
Hooraayy!
This was really comforting to me. I've been dealing with postpartum depression and anxiety, and one of the things I've really struggled with is constantly obsessing about my own death. For whatever reason, my illness manifests as this ongoing paranoia about dying. It was comforting to read about the idea of embracing that fear and turning it into something productive, even if it is under very different circumstances. It inspired me to be more open about it and to work harder to confront it, so thanks for that.
I got tears in my eyes reading this 'invited into deeper understanding' I hold your hand in taking that step. I do the same thing with a few insanely painful and scary struggles in my life and it's really good to hear of someone else...stepping off the ledge of pretending we control it, pretending we live forever. I love you for your humor, talent, heart and openness to the world. xo Here's to five more years!
Exactly. Congrats, wise one.
Hooray for five years! And here's to a hundred more. :)
xoxo
Congratulations, five years is a major milestone. Loss of innocence is the price those of us with cancer have paid, but it shines light and makes things clearer and let's us appreciate small things even more. You are doing great, make everyday count! (P.S. I like to use a lot of exclamation marks as well)
Congrats!!!
Strangely, I came across your post today after getting an ultrasound that shows that I might be having recurring thyroid cancer. Biopsies and surgeries to be scheduled.
Oh Lord.
Woot to a healthy you!
:-)
I'm really glad you're here.
OMG! Congratulations! How wonderful that I stopped over to your blog and saw this today. I lost my blog mojo quite a while back but have since regained it after missing all my buddies for so long. I am now at a new URL since my old one was purchased by someone. That's my punishment for letting it lapse. Anyway, I am also five years out so I am celebrating WITH you!!! I totally understand that feeling of only "technically" being clear. It seems as a cancer survivor, you always are waiting in the back of your mind for the other shoe to drop. I also understand about the feeling of having been robbed - of time, life opportunities, etc. But you know - none of us knows how long we have so we just have to be grateful for every day we are here and relatively pain-free and for everything we DO have. Which brings me to another point I wanted to make while I was here and that was to thank you for the Grace in Small Things site you put together. I was never religious about it and haven't been there in a long time, but it served a great purpose for me at a time I really needed it. Okay, I am sure you don't have a lot of time to read so much babble from one commenter when you have so many, so I will just leave off with how glad I am to be back to blogging and to see that so many of the wonderful people I got to know a bit through it are still actively writing on the interweebs. Cheers, Elan. Live and celebrate a little each day, always. Much love and hugs to you!
I found your post thru Dooce and I'm so glad that I did. Your words are touching. I am only 6 1/2 months cancer free and in fact went for a 3 month follow up today, so cancer was on the brain. You hit the nail on the head when you said that you were "invited into a deeper understanding". I always feared getting cancer and after I got it, I was freed.
Congrats! Much love and health to you!
What a gift and a revelation. Very happy for you! : )
It is like a Choose Your Own Adventure. You can't go back to the path you were on, but you have the power to choose your next direction even if it is not what you expected. Moving forward does not necessarily mean in a straight line.
Thank you for sharing this. I am approaching one year post treatment for Breast cancer and while there is a mountain of support during the treatment, there isn't south once they've done all they can and you ate left to hope the percentages are in your favor to make it to that magical 5 yr mark. I too have a positive outlook on life but live with the idea of that invader hiding somewhere in my body, trying to attack undetected until it is too late. I guess thats normal. So 3 cheers for feeling normal for a moment! Your feeling mirror mine all around--I appreciate your honesty--and congratulate you on making it!!! Woohoo!
Mindy