sometimes i get angry

the thing about cancer is, even though i'm "finished" with it, i'm really not finished with it. there are ways in which it seeps into daily life. some days it is a mere shadow, a slight "what was that!?" of a glimpse, a reminder that it was once a much bigger and more painful part of me. other days it is a flood, even though it isn't in me it seems to be around me. there are days when i feel ok about its continued presence in my life. in the best cases it reminds me to be a better person, to be stronger than i think i can be, and to be more patient. it is too bad that the cancer is reminding me of these things. but it does and i take it for what it is worth. in the worst cases it scares me into dark corners, thinking maybe it will come back, or maybe there are tiny bits still in there. of course i don't submit to those fears nor do i absolutely harbor a thought that it is in there. it is a supreme test of faith - in myself, in medicine, in science, in relationships with nearly everyone around me, and ultimately in spirituality. on my best days i feel wise beyond my years. actually on the BEST days i just feel like myself. on the worst i can be more angry than ever before.

today i found out an acquaintence who offered support during my own treatments is now undergoing treatments for another type of cancer. the thing about cancer, as i've said, is that i'm never really finished with it. when faced with what to say, how to handle the news, i wondered how to be most supportive. what did i most want to hear? what didn't i want to hear? i hold no pity, no, oh i wish it was me and not you. i firmly believe it should be NO ONE. mostly i wanted to hear that people cared and were thinking of me. sometimes i wanted to hear nothing. other times i wanted to hear stories of dogs, school, relationships... anything but cancer. and i imagine that is what is going on in this patient's world. that's the thing about cancer patients. we are human, we go on, we might struggle, but we preservere as best we can and put our faith in things that sometimes transcend our own being and knowledge. i don't know much about radiation but i fully believe that stuff zapped the crap out of my cancer's rna and sent it packing. faith. in the whining, zapping sounds of a martian-looking machine. faith in friendship new and old. faith that tomorrow will be better, even if the victory is small and includes, only on the surface, a 100-yard walk. a lifetime can unfold in those steps. and that's the thing about cancer. it can take the smallest, most insignificant-seeming things and turn them life-changing. the speechless become eloquent. grace shows up in places you least expect it. there are emotions i didn't even know existed.

also today i watched a clip filmed by abc news on a young adult living with cancer. he is being treated for stage IV lymphoma, and the segment brought back so much i turned it off before the end. not before it made me well up with some tears, though, because one sight of a chemo room or a ct film and i get going. we're not supposed to know about this stuff yet. no one should have to know it.

there were some comments made about the piece, and one individual commented that there "is nothing special" about young adult cancer patients and that "people die all the time from all sorts of things". something along those lines. on a certain level, it is true, perhaps we are no more special and deserve no better treatment than an 80 year-old or a 5 year-old. there is something special about every single cancer patient, and it takes the shape of their families, friends, fitness, passions, hobbies, experiences, and how they ended up on the patient side. we are all individuals from every imaginable walk of life and in that regard we are all equal.

but there is indeed something about young adults with cancer, or who have had cancer. 55.000 will be diagnosed each year and just about 9,300 will die. between the ages of 15 and 39, there are many different forces at work. many people are fresh out of school, getting a handle on life and experiencing the ups and downs that so excitingly come with being young, single, and often working jobs that don't offer the best benefits in lieu of offering outstanding other perks, like location or experience. cancer strikes blindly, it doesn't care if you have great insurance or none at all. many of the chemotherapies and other treatments and surgeries render the patients infertile - imagine talking about banking sperm or preserving eggs when you haven't even met someone you want to marry, but you sure hope you do one day... not to mention having the chance... you've been told you have cancer. many of the friends of young adults haven't ever had to face something of this magnitude - it is a learning experience for all involved and at a time when they might need their friends the most some folks have a hard time including them in their lives.

some patients and types of cancer warrant treatment by pediatric oncologists even though the patient is 17 or 18. other types, like mine, warrant lots of time sitting in waiting rooms seeing NO ONE even remotely in the same age bracket. lucky for me i met some people with fire in their eyes and youth on their side. for a while there i was wondering where we all were hiding. once we finish treatment and head back to "normal" all the time, there are other concerns; maintaining insurance even though there's that looming "preexisting condition" on the record. for some, substantial bills pile up. we're supposed to be saving for houses, buying first cars, starting families. things like that get reevaluated and moved around on the importance scale.

i am really fortunate to not have much to complain about. my cancer has responded well to the treatments and so did i. my biggest concern is it coming back, and little else. every three months the doctors that fought really hard along side of me call me back in and have a look. i am being cared for by some of the best out there. my family is tight-knit and my friends are stellar. i'm not really having a problem with the statement that we aren't "special" because i have been slighted.

but then again, i have been there. and i do think we are special. if mortality rates for other age groups are falling, why aren't ours? to point out the possibly obvious, when facing cancer at 70 or 75, it is still a gut-wrenching, horrible thing. but at 25 we're hoping for many more years, remember it takes 50 more to get to that same 75.

again, there is something about each patient that they bring to the table that makes their case unique and special. my hope is they can find a doctor who cares about their individual story and gives them the best care possible. whatever the age. whatever the diagnosis. and i don't want to appear insensitive to that fact. i just want people to stop to think, just a bit, about the implications a cancer diagnosis can have on a young adult. maybe it is something that hasn't crossed your mind before. then again, you're reading this blog, so chances are, you're familiar with at least one young adult who's had a go at it.

all the ranting's over now. i feel much better. i still think cancer sucks, though.