The real anniversary

Despite the title of my post a few days ago, today is my real one-year anniversary. My cancer surgery was exactly one year ago, May 20, 2015, and was the first salvo in my war against the invading malignancy.

I hasten to say, however, that I’m not a “hero” for “fighting courageously.” And I’m not “brave” or deserving of praise. Few cancer patients really are, although that’s the way we’re often depicted by others. We really have only one decision to make: We decide to fight and go through whatever treatment the professionals deem necessary, or we decide not to fight and just let the cancer grow and spread until it kills us.

Fight or die. What would you do under the same circumstances? I think the choice is pretty easy, unless maybe you’re already at death’s door.

So, I am quietly marking this, the one-year anniversary of the day I declared war on cancer. It’s been a tough year, but I’m past all the surgery, chemo, and radiation, and the lung problem seems to have cleared up. It’s now pretty much up to me to continue recovering and get back to whatever is going to be “normal” from now on.


4 thoughts on “The real anniversary

  1. Jim Wheeler Saturday, May 21, 2016 / 8:18 am MDT

    You and I are similar, I think, in that we try to look at things objectively. That, I submit, does take courage. The easier course is denial. I had a co-worker whose young wife developed a lump in her breast but declined to seek treatment out of fear. Eventually it got so large that it was undeniable, but it was too late and she died after going through chemo anyway. I credit you with courage, and also good sense.

    • PiedType Saturday, May 21, 2016 / 10:02 am MDT

      Thank you, Jim. I’ve just always thought the logical thing to do was see a doctor on a regular basis and follow up on anything suspicious. An ounce of prevention, etc. Maybe that comes from being a doctor’s daughter. Maybe it’s a matter of education. I don’t know. But I know a blogger a few years older than myself who boasts of not seeing a doctor for years at a time. To me that’s not good sense; it’s pure dumb luck. I would think fear of dying would have sent that co-worker’s wife running to the doctor at the first suspicion …

"You don’t have to say everything to say something." ~Beth Moore

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