alive day
n. the anniversary of a close escape from death, especially one involving permanent injury. Originally coined by US veterans, and adopted by survivors of accidents, cancer treatments, etc.
A year ago today, I went into the hospital and came out with no cancer.
A team of surgeons carved a chunk out of my leg — a circle about 4 inches across (about the size of a CD) and 1 1/2 inches deep. A secondary incision on my lower abdomen was where they removed two lymph nodes for a sentinel node biopsy (to make sure the cancer had not spread). They took a roughly 5 x 5 skin graft from my other leg, so they could patch the crater they’d created.
What a year it’s been.
For the most part, 2007 was the Year That Wasn’t. I didn’t really get anything done that I had planned. I spent the first quarter largely confined to the couch downstairs. I didn’t get my official medical all-clear until about halfway throught the year. The months since have been a struggle to shake off the effects that the initial diagnosis and treatment had on me.
To be honest, ever since, it’s been a bit like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stomach problems? What if it’s cancer? Headache? What if it’s cancer? Was that mole always there, or is it cancer? Almost like jumping at shadows….but no, more like being afraid of the sound of a gun, because at least there’s a reason for that. I’ve seen the gun, and heard it fired at me, and part of me is waiting to hear it again.
Not fun.
But it’s been a year. Another January has come round, and I’m still here. One of the things that scared me the most during the whole process was reading the 1, 5 and 10 year survival rates for people with the same classification of cancer that I had, but now I’ve cleared the first hurdle.
I’m not even going to begin to tell you about the changes this has wrought in the way I think about things, in what’s important to me and what isn’t, in relationships…any of that. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think that I have the ability. I can’t explain most of it.
Everything, in some way, is different.
It’s been a year. Bring on the next hurdle.
It’s always good to click off another trip ’round the sun. Especially if your friends have done so as well. Keep on clicking, sir.
Congratulations on the first anniversary of your new life. I too have survived scary moments like yours (though my very large tumors turned out to be non-cancerous) and I wish you well. I toast your continued good health this fine but cold morning.
B.
Congrats on the anniversary, amigo. Onward and upward!
Both my mother and my mother-in-law are cancer survivors, for two years and fifteen years, respectively. You join distinguished company.
A fine anniversary to have, and many more to come.
Congratulations on continuing to breathe in and out. Hopefully the coping is all downhill from now on.
Awesome, dude.
My mom got diagonsed with endomitrial cancer this past year as well, so I got a glimpse of all that turmoil. She had surgery and all appears to be well now, so I look forward to celebrating Alive Day in July with her.
The bullet didn’t miss – they were just able to get it out in time. Congrats on suvivage! Here’s to more buckets not to kick!