Well not really redux, but thoughts are. Almost a year ago (May 3 actually) I had my first visit with the oncologist. I had finally gotten the path report so I knew it was cancer (despite my vain attempts at denial). I started chemo on May 5.
So, it's been a year and it mostly seems a dream. Did it really happen? Yes, I have the scars to prove it, but it seems so unreal. Me, cancer? No risk factors. Almost all the things that mitigate against ovarian cancer on my side. Cancer happens to someone else. Heart attack, perhaps, stroke, yes, but cancer? And still it seems so unreal.
Most of the time it doesn't enter my mind. I know there is a possiblity of recurrence and when I think of it, I'm frightened. Not necessarily by dying, but by not getting to do all the things I want to do. By the possibility of endless chemo. By watching my body disintegrate over time. By not getting to run and swim and travel.
But most of the time, it is truly as if it hadn't happened. I know that those of us who have had cancer are supposed to have experienced some great insight into life, some life changing epiphany. My cancer seems to have affected others in that way more than me. An article in Call to Worship (forthcoming, not sure when) will tell of another's experience in shaving my head. Another person Tuesday evening spoke of her denial long after I had come to terms with it.
But, except for visits every few months to the oncologist, and for blood tests every few months, and the scars on my belly, there is little to remind me of last summer.