The Cancer Anniversary

Today is an important day. But I can’t decided if it is a day to remember or one I’d rather forget. Let me explain…

Three years ago today I was going through tests to find out what the lump that the doctor found was. Little did I know what that was about to lead to although I suspected what was coming. Cancer. Twelve months later, two years ago today, I was admitted to hospital, unable to use my left leg because, after eleven months of chemotherapy, a lump that hadn’t been found on my back, was pushing between my vertebrae and crushing the nerves. A day that I will never forget.

Sound bad? It was actually a blessing in disguise.

Without the cancer suddenly choosing to grow between my vertebrae it may never have been found on my back and would have eventually killed me. Why? Because after they operated and removed it they tested it again and found that they were treating me for the wrong type of cancer. I had been classed as terminal because they were convinced that I had a rare internal form of melanoma. Something which a cure has not been found for. But the new biopsy was tested further than the previous one had been and they found that although the cell was shaped like melanoma it was in fact a curable form of lymphoma. The doctors said they made a mistake. Oops.

But I know I got the cure I had been praying for.

I had spent almost a year being treated for the wrong thing, thinking that I had twelve months to live (well that’s what they told me, I never believed them – not sure it that was faith or denial lol), going to faith healings and experiencing incredible back pain only to be told that I should be fine in six months time with the right treatment.

I almost said no to more treatment. I was sick of being sick. I was sick of being poisoned. How does poisoning someone fix them? It doesn’t make sense but I have to admit that the experience has changed my mind about that. Simply because it worked.

I’ve decided that I am going to remember this day and make it my own public holiday. I’m going to call it Life Day because it’s the day I got my life back. It was a dark day, a hard day to remember but what it led to… being alive, being able to sit here and say I beat the odds makes it worth it. If you had told me what was to come I might have laughed at you or maybe even chosen to say no to more treatment if that meant my marriage would be over at the end of it (long story which I will not elaborate on now) but I can say now, two years later, that it was a good day. A day to remember. My cancer-versary.

I need to go now… I have to go see my doctor again this afternoon for my latest check-up. Is that ironic that this appointment has fallen on this day?