Saturday, April 14, 2007

copied from the cancer crusade











Just when the caterpillar
thought the world had ended,
it became a butterfly.

~Unknown~

Over the last few weeks, we've been discussing "survivor's guilt" and trying to define the term "survivor" in these weekly affirmations, and we've gotten some very thoughtful and thought-provoking e-mails as a result. A reader named Gail brought up an interesting concern that we had heard survivors discuss before, but we'd never thought through it enough to consider it for one of these weekly affirmations. Gail's question led us to think long and hard about the subject, and we decided that it is not only appropriate to this column, but also something that we'll bet many readers have struggled with. So here goes.

Gail wrote: "Since my surgery (mastectomy) and subsequent reconstruction, two of my friends had mastectomies. However, my friends needed radiation and chemotherapy, and they suffered all that those treatments have to offer...I always feel incredibly guilty when I see these women (and those like them) who have undergone so much more than I have. I don't feel the right to call myself a survivor when, in fact, my battle pales by comparison. Have you ever
come across this problem?"

Gail's question reminded me of other survivors I know. A friend of ours refuses to walk the "Survivors Lap" at our local Relay For Life because she says she "only" had a small skin cancer removed from her arm. Another says she doesn't feel like she has the right to call herself a survivor because she "only" had a lumpectomy and 33 radiation treatments. My own husband says that he's not sure he's a "real" survivor because he "only" had his kidney removed while I had surgery, chemotherapy and radiation treatments.

Children who have a certain type of leukemia often undergo more than 2 years of chemotherapy. I have a friend who has been living with cancer for 14 years and has undergone months and months of chemotherapy and other treatments about 10 different times. My own mother recently completed 35 radiation treatments for breast cancer, and my father has just been diagnosed with prostate cancer and will undergo a surgical implantationof radiation "seeds." My best friend had a mastectomy with reconstruction, chemotherapy
and radiation treatments.

The simple fact of the matter is that, with a disease as complex as cancer (and remember that there are more than 100 types of cancer), the possible treatment variations and combinations are infinite! Also, suffering is subjective. What I think is painful, you might find merely uncomfortable. What you find intolerable, I might think is little more than annoying. If we were to require a certain type or number of surgeries and/or treatments in order to be considered survivors, or if we were to engage in questioning how much or how little one has "suffered," what would be the magic number or degree, extent or level of intensity? The answer is, of course, that we cannot go there. It's a pointless exercise and a waste of time and energy, and I don't know about you, but I don't have
any of either to spare!

If you have had a doctor tell you "You have cancer," you have suffered a psychological blow like no other. You have experienced an emotional trauma that no one who has not had cancer can comprehend. For me, being given the diagnosis was the very worst of the entire cancer experience. When I look back on my surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation treatments, I am acutely aware that - while they certainly were no picnic - they were not nearly as awful as the day
my doctor told me I had cancer.

If you survived that day in your own life, you are a survivor, because being a survivor is not about how many or what kind of treatments we have. In fact, it has nothing at all to do with our bodies. It's about how big our spirits are and how we carry ourselves in the face of fear and danger. It's about grace and dignity and courage and heart.
I really believe it's just that simple.

By the way, Gail, happy anniversary,
you survivor you!

Dear God, please help me remember to celebrate myself, to look back on how far I've come and all that I've endured and achieved along this difficult journey, even if it just began yesterday. Remind me that it's okay to be proud of who and what and where I am today. No matter how my story ends, I am a survivor. Amen







Roger and Kathy Cawthon
The Cancer Crusade





 


 

Click the link above and watch The Survivor Movie.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

so many emotions go through ones mind when given cancer as a diagnosis...some days I am all over the place emotionally and other days my 'chit' is together. I often wondered about the title of "survivor" now again I leave that thought on the back burner of my mind and concentrate just trying to get this beast in remission....or NED as they say in cancer lingo (no evidence of disease)

Anonymous said...

That was so true Lahoma...Linda xx