Being a survivor

When I was first diagnosed and treated, I had no idea what a survivor went through. After finishing all of my treatments it still felt odd to have others refer to me as a "survivor". It is now, only 2 years later, that I am finally able to look back at the road I traveled and marvel at the fact I did survive.

I take pride in being a member of this horribly elite club. What is it that Groucho Marx said, "I don't want to be part of a club that would have me as a member"? This is not a club anyone wants to join, but for those of us unwilling members who make it to the end, we are stronger for our journey.

It is especially at this time of year, that being around the time of my birthday, that I begin to wax nostalgic at my journey and actually find myself missing being able to use my, "I am just not up to it" excuse that was a small perk available for riding the "gravy train" of cancer and chemo.

It also makes me wonder if I get credit for the times I "survived" having to deal with family trauma-drama? I guess not. Apparently everyone has family issues but only some of us have those issues exacerbated by internal medical issues. Oh well, this too shall pass......like a kidney stone.

The Fight or Flight Decision....REALLY!

From the very beginning, I was almost thankful that I had a horrible disease that might actually kill me. Yes, almost happy about it. I am tired of being perceived as a loser, the boys are gone, I am tired of paying the student loans for an education that turned out to be pointless for an older woman who is not hot, not skinny and not well connected. Let's face it, I am the LAST person to get hired for a job if there is anyone young, cute and thin in the running.........LOL

I love being a lawyer, but I hate the constant struggle and have little to no respect for most other lawyers. I think my view is based largely on the fact that I started my career doing domestic cases and I was tired of looking at the other attorneys (mostly male) my age who did not put their lives and careers on hold to raise kids.

I feel like I made a horrible mistake when I let the boys go live with their father. I knew it was not the best thing to do, but I was tired of being the "mean parent" in their lives. I never got to be the fun one and no matter what I said, it was never going to be "cooler" to continue to live at home with mom then to move to Japan with their dad.

So here I sit, broke, without a career, no love life, kids are gone, car blew up and with both uterus problems and breast cancer. Well hell, when I look at it in writing it looks soooooooooo much better...........NOT...............LOL

Finally, there is my fear of dying alone. I know that I have family and friends who "support me" and "love me", but it goes back to the basic question of who will hold my hair if the chemo or radiation makes me sick?