Cancer Gave Me A Cause
I had cancer. Bone cancer to be exact. Osteosarcoma if you want specifics. I was diagnosed in the last six weeks of my Sophomore year in college, right after spring break (and you thought your spring semester was a bummer).
Needless to say, my life changed drastically from that point on. I completed nine months of high dose chemo in December of 2015 with a limb salvage surgery in August. It was miserable and just as awful as it sounds (to put it lightly).
But it is over! I should be able to move on and not think about it anymore! After all, it has been three whole years. Believe me, I wish it was that easy.
I hope it won’t be a shock to you, but it isn’t that easy. In fact, it isn’t easy at all. Every aspect of my life changed when I got diagnosed. I didn’t realize it then and even three years later, I’m still realizing new aspects of this ‘post cancer’ life.
I am where I am, because of cancer. I’m graduating a year behind, because of cancer. I have scars, because of cancer. I have metal in my leg that clicks when I walk, because of cancer. I cannot eat certain foods, because of cancer. I have a whole bin of clothes I cannot wear, because of cancer. I have high frequency hearing loss, because of cancer. Cancer crosses my mind every single day. The shadow of cancer will follow me for the rest of my life.
“I am where I am, because of cancer.”
You probably want to tell me not to dwell on those things or to look at all the good things I have because of cancer. You may also want to tell me to appreciate the moment and be thrilled because hey, you are alive!
I would want to tell you in response, that I do those things. I have gotten some awesome opportunities to give back because of cancer. I’ve met a lot of really cool people because of cancer. Cancer was rough, and I’m definitely not one who’d choose to go through it again because of the opportunities that came from it. I shouldn’t be anymore obligated to be thankful to be alive than any other 23 year old, just because I had cancer.
Getting cancer at 20 is different. It’s different than being a child or even being an established adult. In your 20s’, the world is just opening up to you. It’s like, you’re just learning to navigate this whole “adulting” thing. The sunshine illustrations and fish tank in the waiting room doesn’t help you, but neither does the sterile, beige infusion room where the adults are treated. You’re not a cute bald-headed child or old enough where people are not necessarily surprised to hear you have cancer. You don’t get the community support you get when you are in public school. You don’t get to “make-a-wish” (I mean, all a girl wants to do is meet Harry Styles, c’mon!) You do get to pay your student loans… It’s an incredibly difficult age to be, but it’s even tougher when you get diagnosed with cancer.
A lot of the stuff my friends stress about still feels foreign to me (yes, even three years later). They’re stressed about jobs, boyfriends, and grad school. I mean, I want all of those things, but I just don’t feel the need to stress about them. You may think that is a good thing, and I guess it is, but the reason I can’t stress about those things is because I’m used to stressing about cancer. I guess what I’m trying to say is getting a job seems a lot easier compared to all the stress that comes with cancer. This is one aspect where it is especially hard to relate to my peers.
“Cancer gave me a lot of things, most of which I didn’t ask for or want. However, among those things, cancer gave me a cause.”
When I was diagnosed three years ago, I had no idea AYA cancer was even a thing. I can still remember exactly where I was sitting when I told my mom that there needed to be a young adult clinic. Back then it sounded like something I made up. To know that there are causes and doctors solely dedicated to AYA patients is amazing to me. I know it is not something most people think about; I sure didn’t before it happened to me. The uniqueness of this age group deserves special attention. It’s so important that cancer not be any more isolating than it should be.
Cancer gave me a lot of things, most of which I didn’t ask for or want. However, among those things, cancer gave me a cause. I never would have thought of myself as someone who would enjoy public speaking, but when it’s about something I had a personal experience with, I’m all about it. Cancer sucks, there is no way around it. Not a whole lot can be done about that. There is however, a lot that can be done about the experience.
My worries today are a lot different than they were three years ago, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have them. I’m more worried about school than blood counts, but I still worry about scans. I worry that cancer will affect people from hiring me or getting to know me. I worry if there are side effects that I’m unaware of and may pop up later. I’m slowly accepting that my life is different now. It’s more different than it was before cancer, and even during cancer. I’m trying to mold the three versions of myself into one (mostly functioning) regular person.
Cancer changed me. It took a lot from me, but I did gain a little bit. I’m one of the “lucky” ones, and I recognize this daily. My life is relatively back to normal. I don’t have any lingering side effects, and so far, so good. Sometimes I feel bad for even complaining because I’m so aware that this is not the situation many find themselves in. I don’t have the answers or reasons. No one does.
I don’t know why I got cancer. I do know that it shouldn’t have happened to me, as it shouldn’t happen to anyone else. I still wish it hadn’t, but since I can’t reverse time, I share my story. I advocate for other young adults who are too tired to do it themselves or don’t realize yet, that they’ll come out stronger.
– Samantha