Setting the Stage

I want to set the stage for whatever is to come and to do that I need to delve deeper into the cancer psyche.  I've gotten more of a grasp of the psychologically impact over the years, but I know it is something that will evolve throughout the entirety of my life.  This is simply where I am at right now.

First a quick recap.  I was diagnosed at 18 (April 2003) with bone cancer in my left femur.  Initially I went through nine months of chemotherapy and had my left knee replaced with an internal metal knee.  I was told my prognosis was very good and that I would need to have scans for a couple years to make sure my remission was complete.  Summer 2004, first recurrence in knee...surgery.  Fall 2004 moved out of my parents house and attempted collage.  October 2004 cancer spread to my lungs and recurred again in my knee.  Moved back home, had lung surgery, started chemo again and was told the only chance I had for survival was to have my leg amputated.  January 2005 chemotherapy was stopped because it was making me lose my mind.  January 25th amputation surgery.  From here it gets blurry.  I had two more lung surgeries and some lymph nodes taken out of my groin.  The last surgery was sometime in the spring of 2005, at that point I didn't really care.  I was facing the fact that there was a 75% chance I would be dead within a year.  Not much to do  but enjoy time with friends and family.  Yet, here I am almost eight years later, I got lucky.  The cancer stopped growing, my body caught up to it, I don't know what happened.  It doesn't matter.

After this I went through a period of about three years where I had a CT and  a PET Scan every three months.  Talk about nerve racking.  Over time I became more accustomed to the anxiety these scans induced and with each clean scan I felt more alive.  Still, this time felt like something akin to a prolonged near death experience.

That's the physical side, now for the mental side, which is much more complex.

First and foremost, coming so close to death makes me feel old and has hardened a part of me to the point, that on some level, not much fazes me.  This is a good thing in some regards, but I wish I could get a bit more excited at times.  In that sense I think cancer pushes you forward, way beyond your years.

At the same time cancer crushes your independence.  I went from 18 and headed to college, to depending on my parents, siblings and friends for support in every aspect of life.  On top of that I was reliant on the government for health care and doctors to give me any chance at life.  Cancer pushed me forward even as it held me back.  I was left feeling like an old man and an adolescent at the same time.

Then comes the fact that I didn't do anything to get cancer and there is no known cause of bone cancer.  Before cancer I had had zero significant health problems.  This lack of reason and cause left me feeling very apathetic and with little faith that my actions made much difference in life's outcome.  

And then you have grief, with which you are supposed to go through a process and eventually accept and let go of whatever you've lost.  Well, when you lose a limb that isn't exactly possible.  I wake every morning and strap a titanium leg onto what's left of my left leg in an attempt to replace what I've lost; I have to hold on even as I try and let go...I haven't quite wrapped my head around this one.

Stir all this up into a big messy soup inside my head and you are left with a detached, overwhelmed and confused individual.  I feel like an observer as the world goes on around me, I struggle to connect with people because I am more equipped to deal with trauma than everyday living.  At the same time I am dying for connection, for someone to reach out and tell me they know how this feels, and how isolating it is.

I've felt very  lost and overwhelmed at times in the last ten years.  I didn't know how to trust myself after this, after my body turned against me.  I was laying in 

bed last night thinking about this, asking myself if I've regained trust in my body after it spontaneously turned against me?  I was thinking that on some primal level I don't know if I have or if I ever will be able to.  And then it hit me that that is ridiculous.  A part of my body revolted but the majority of me is intact and that is amazing.  That's really what this whole project is about; taking all the negative reactions I have had to cancer and turning them on their head.  Yes, my body turned against me, but my body was and is strong enough to survive and live on.  Quite frankly, that is amazing.

I'm not ashamed about the negative places I've gone, nor will I beat myself up for going to those places.  It makes complete sense to lose faith for a time when, without mercy or reason, your world is turned upside down.  I wish I could break it done to something as simple as "Livestrong", "Stupid Cancer", or "F Cancer, but I can't, that's not who I am and it really isn't that simple.  

I've been thinking about all this stuff for a long time and been wanting to change, but for whatever reason wasn't quite ready to start taking initiative.  I'm realizing that even within everything I've been through there is a normal progression in life.  I've recently turned 28 and understood that I know what I want in life and that I'm as determined as ever to get it.  It seems the older you get the more responsibility and holding yourself accountable comes naturally.  All I know is that I feel more alive and capable now than I have in the last ten years.  I am completely open with myself and accept all the the reactions I have to what I've been through, but I'm done being complacent and letting those reactions determine who I am and how I feel.  I know I have a giant heart and one way or another I will find a way to break grief and loss' grip on it.

A few disclaimers.  

I know there are people worse off and I'm not alone in longing and suffering.  At the same time you can't say to yourself "there are people worse off" and believe that that is enough to get you through whatever you are going through.  It's not.

Second, I promise all my posts won't be this heavy.  But if I've had one consistency through all this, it is that I try and be honest and open to the core, no matter how painful it is.