By Amy Calkins Teague
Cancerversary – Seems like just another made up cancer buzzword in today’s world. Per an online source, “It’s a compound word that describes a significant day of celebration for a person who’s experienced cancer. Cancerversaries can be celebrated anytime and anyplace. The specifics are to be determined by the celebrant.”
{Insert eye roll.} ????
I’ve now added it to the list of other annoying cancer related words such as “survivor” or “thriver” now in my vocabulary since my diagnosis. However, the closer I get to mine, the more tolerant I become, mainly because I shouldn’t be here.
Stage IV Ovarian Cancer
Stage IV Ovarian Cancer is pretty much a death sentence. Most women with Stage IV die shortly after diagnosis but within about two years.
Let that sink in. It really is a death sentence.
Cancer doesn’t follow the Fair Trade Act. Meaning, just because you follow the prescribed chemotherapy protocol doesn’t mean you are guaranteed remission or more time. That’s a heavy idea to wake up to every morning.
I wake up to that heaviness every morning. I live with it throughout the day and into the night, every single day. I’ve been living in limbo for five years now.
It’s surreal to think that I am still here!
Looking at old social media posts about my journey (the ones I chose to share), I can’t help but question “How the heck am I still here?”
I have had some really, really dark days. Many of which I easily masked with smiles and laughs and distractions. But I can’t mask the sadness and scariness of the situation when I am alone. There were many, many times it would hit me like a ton of bricks in the car or shower. I would cry so hard, no tears would fall from my eyes and no sound would come from my wide open mouth. It was a deep, paralyzing fear that wouldn’t make a sound – I couldn’t find a release.
Cancer Fears
As the years have passed, these moments are few and far between. I still have them, but not as frequently. I get sad when people speak of when their children get married or when my girls talk about me being a grandparent. Deep down I know I won’t be there to experience any of that.
I will be a true outlier to see Maddie graduate from high school in six years. I think of all the milestones I will miss of both of my girls and it’s just not fair. But as the saying goes “life’s not fair.” I can easily pout and be bitter about what I will miss or I can be a willing participant.
I choose to be a willing participant. I had a conversation with my boss a few years ago when I returned from my first medical leave of absence about me and my development plan. I was frank with her – I have no desire to climb the corporate ladder or explore other career foraging opportunities. I told her I was fine just where I was and that’s all I wanted.
She understood what that meant, supporting that request completely. She made sure I have a job flexible enough so I don’t miss a single event, big or small, for my girls. If I need to come in late or leave early to make sure my girls see my face in the crowd or drive to a field trip, it’s not an issue.
Life and…Soccer
Maddie and Cinclare started playing soccer a few months before my diagnosis. Neither Travis nor I were soccer players so I just assumed this would be a fun thing for them until about second grade, then move on to something else.
I had no idea how much soccer would help me and my family through my experience with cancer.Click To Tweet
In the past few years, I have thrown myself into volunteering for various organizations and helping friends get their crew to and from practice, games, or any other need. I have truly embraced the “soccer mom” stereotype (short the minivan, of course), and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I loved, and still love, watching my girls play soccer because when on the sidelines, I’m just Maddie and Cinclare’s mom. And when they are playing, they are not thinking about cancer. We are just a normal family, watching/playing soccer on the weekends and that is what we all needed.
I always dreamt about throwing a big celebration for my five year “cancerversary” if I lived that long because it is a huge milestone in my cancer journey (another annoying cancer buzzword), but now that it’s here, there’s no place I’d rather be than to be on the sidelines heckling referees!
Happy cancerversary to me, and cheers to five years!
Faith Albert says
Your bravery, gracious heart is humbling to read. Reading your powerful words, describing your experience, sharing your journey in life with the diagnosis of ovarian cancer, and your remission is such an inspiration. Thank for putting your life into readable words.
Brett Cordes says
Thank you, Faith!!
Lydia says
Happy cancerversary! I’m glad you have such an understanding boss.
Brett Cordes says
I agree ☝️!!