Is today really my 5th Cancerversary? I know, I can’t believe it myself. 5 years ago today I found out I had cancer, then I almost died, but I didn’t. I’m alive, I’m alive, still!
Come to think of it, is today the actual date? It depends on how you define the term. Should I make it the day that the astute on-call hematologist told me she thought I had CML, or her confirmation later that week with results of a bone-marrow biopsy? I’ve chosen the latter as the date of note. By the date CML was confirmed, I had overcome my overwhelming denial and was ready to accept the reality.
I wish I could be celebrating, like many others do, the date that cancer was eradicated from my body, whether through surgery and/or radiation and/or chemotherapy, but I don’t have that kind of cancer. I am celebrating 5 years of living with (or should I say, “not dying from”) cancer, which is a whole lot better than the alternative. With the wisdom and guidance of my stellar medical team, I am still here. Sure, I’d prefer to be rid of my leukemia altogether, but that’s not the CML way. Technically I may be in a remission of sorts, but I am not cured and, as far as I know, I never will be.
Five whole years of leukemia and I’m not dead yet. It begs the question, have I been pulling your leg all these years? Do I really have cancer? Yes, the doctors tell me I do. Remember, I am not a writer of fiction.
This is how I know I still have cancer: I hang out with other cancerous folks every 6 weeks of late. This more frequent cancer-centre visit schedule reflects both Dr. Blood and Dr. Blood Lite’s concerns about my goutiness and my weight loss. I trust I will be on a less frequent cancer-reminder schedule sometime soon.
Have I convinced you that I do have cancer, even though it’s not killing me, or at least not yet? Whatever, I believe strongly that a milestone like this should be celebrated. It’s an accomplishment of sorts, even if I didn’t make it happen.
J. asked me how I wanted to celebrate the day and, after giving me approximately 30 seconds to deliberate, she booked us a quick trip away. And today, when I have coffee with a few dear friends I don’t see often enough, I may order a small hot chocolate, but only to get my doctors off my back. Or maybe I won’t. I’m lactose intolerant.
I also celebrated by wearing my leukemia shirt to the gym. It subtly screams SURVIVOR on the back. A fellow yogi with whom I’ve exchanged pleasantries in the past asked me what kind of survivor I am, so I told her with undeserved pride. I think she was disappointed that I had not won that Survivor television show. Imagine me on a desert island fighting for my life. What if there’s no pharmacy? No blood lab? I’d be sunk.
Tonight I’ll be raising a glass of fizzy fruity soda from a fake champagne bottle. Don’t let that stop you from imbibing something stronger or, alternatively, eating cake. Together let’s toast 5 years of still living. L’chaim!