My Cancer Storyfeatured

The C word no one cares for. The C word that causes pain. The C word that kills. The C word that breaks people. The C word that creates chaos and confusion. This C word is different from any other C word I have ever written about. This C word is cancer.

I have not had cancer. But I have been directly affected by it. A year ago, today, a person I love went into surgery to kill this horrible C word. A year ago, today, they had complications. And a year ago, I almost lost the most important person in my life. My best friend, my world, my hero.

It feels like yesterday, but it also feels like 500 years ago. Does that make any sense? The whole moment in time felt like it was the scene out of a horrible movie.

Time stood still. Nothing else mattered. Food tasted like paper and getting up every morning became painful. All of the things that once made me smile dissipated into nothingness. I didn’t think life could ever become so tragic.

Truth is, cancer is a flaming bitch.

It doesn’t only kill people physically, it kills them emotionally. It’s safe to say that the beginning of last year was a complete blur. At one point I even wanted to just quit my job and be a full-time caregiver.

Cancer pulls people in every which direction leaving them wondering which way is up.

I almost stopped believing in everything good when I went through the cancer chapter of my life. I mean, how could cancer affect me? How could it try to kill off the most important part of my life? So many questions that might never have answers.

I got to the point where I wanted to give up believing in good outcomes, but I had no choice but be strong for those around me who were also being affected by this beast. I tried to be as strong as I possibly could but there were definitely moments of weakness.

And although I did breakdown throughout this cancer journey, I refused to ever let cancer completely beat me or those that I hold so close to my heart. Because if I had given up, those around me could have also potentially crumbled.

There came a moment when I thought cancer won. It was cancer removal day. Talented doctors we’re going to kill the cancer so we could all then go on living our lives as usual…

But surgery went wrong. Very, very wrong. After over 5 hours of waiting, the surgeon came out. We were all expecting the “good news.” He let us know there was no victory in the operating room. He rambled on and all I could hear was, “There has been an unexpected complication.”

My stomach fell to the floor. My heart felt like it stopped beating. I froze. All my life’s memories flashed before my eyes. What was the point of all of this? How could technology not anticipate this complication? No one ever shows this part of cancer in the movies. I mean, either people die or they don’t die. What was up with this in-between part? This person did not respond well to the surgery so we have to “go in and try again,” the surgeon said.

I was outraged. I was crying and wanted to scream all at the same time. I looked at my loved ones in disbelief as we each had flashbacks running through our minds of the person we might lose that night. 

We waited. And we waited. It got to the point that I felt guilty for feeling hungry and tired. A surgery that should have been over early afternoon kept going on and spilled over into the next day. It felt like deja vu in the worst possible sense of the word.

What one feels in that waiting room of a hospital in unexplainable. The sterile white walls made me want to vomit. The air was stale and you could taste the angst in the air. There was one other group of people waiting for their loved one. “I wonder if they will make it,” I thought.

After waiting for hours, we stressed to the staff that we needed answers. They didn’t want to give us any. Time stood still until the surgeon came back out. “We were able to make the procedure work,” he said.

What came over me in that moment was a surge of happiness and madness all at the same time. I once again broke into tears. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw them alive again.

We walked in, one by one. And there my hero lie. Looking like an angel. I swear I saw light beaming off their body. I looked in their eyes and admired them more than I ever had. All previous notions and disagreements dissipated in that very moment. It was all too real yet all too hallucinatory at the same time.

They made it. I made it. We made it.

Cancer knows no boundaries. It affects everyone and anyone in its tracks. My cancer hero made it but those that don’t are just as courageous. People who fight it are not the only heroes, people who experience cancer and fight alongside their loved ones are a force, a movement, an army.

Love Deeply and Forever,

Karen

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2018 Karen  Pierik