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.