Freedom to live

As I enter this stage of freedom from my disease, it is so real to me that more and more people every day are being diagnosed. My heart breaks for those who receive the awful news that the pain they have been experiencing is cancer. Especially a diagnosis of ovarian cancer... "the silent killer". I am becoming more aware of how fortunate I am for surviving such a horrible disease, when many people arent so lucky. Having gone through this, I stumble across other people's stories fairly frequently; some of them end abruptly. No entries or updates past a particularly trying day. And I am left only to assume.

 

And though I am grateful for this phase of my life to be behind me, daily I am reminded of the assault on my body as random side-effects come and go. With every step I take, I am acutely aware of how strong the poison of chemotherapy was with the growing numbness in my feet. Each time I look in the mirror, my tired eyes tell the story of the battle. And yet, as more days pass from my last treatment of chemotherapy, the more freedom I feel. Freedom from disease, but also freedom from anxieties and fears I had before. 

I am forever changed. I have new scars that have stamped their unique design across my skin. It is known that scar tissue is stronger than the skin it replaced. Often, it is painful as scar tissue lays down. Breaking through scar tissue can also be painful. But some of the best healing takes place after the scar has been broken free. 

Some of the healing is slow. Physical healing takes time (I am reminded of this daily). For me, the emotional healing is just beginning. I am processing through emotions I had during chemo and in the days following. I feel blessed to have the support of my friends and family, but have decided to seek additional support in processing the past few months. I started seeing a counselor and hope to continue breaking free of past fears and anxieties with her guidance. More on that to come, I am sure. 

For now, I sit on my deck with the sun setting behind me, birds chirping in the distance and the sound of laughter coming from my neighbor's house. I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to keep living. Each morning there is a nod to God for allowing me to keep breathing. A thankful heart as I go about my day. Just as those scars remind me of the battle, my continued breathing reminds me of life. Joyous, utterly delightful life. And for that I am filled with gratitude. 

Portland International Rose Garden