Someone asked me recently what one word I would choose to describe my cancer experience. The word I chose then and would choose today as well is transforming.
That’s what cancer does. It transforms.
Anyone who has ever had the misfortune to hear the dreaded words you have cancer, perhaps has a different word of choice to describe her cancer experience.
I’m sticking with transforming – at least today and in this public domain!
I intentionally chose the present tense because cancer’s transformation is an ongoing process. It’s never over because cancer is never truly over. Even when you’re NED (no evidence of disease) like me, its shadow lingers.
For me anyway, in so many ways and due to so many reasons, cancer continues to be transforming.
People who hear the words you have cancer sometimes say they can divide their life into two parts; the time before cancer and the time after their diagnosis. Cancer is a great divide.
I certainly do this.
Sometimes my other life feels not only very different, but also very distant. Sometimes I have to really stop and think about what things were like before.
Cancer transforms because it takes a lot.
Cancer took my mother and others I care about. Cancer took chunks of me away, quite literally as well as figuratively.
Cancer keeps on taking… That’s what cancer does.
Sure, all of this transforming has some good parts to it.
I like to think I’ve made a few positive changes since I was diagnosed.
For instance, I have set new priorities and reassigned the order as to what things are most important to me.
I look at the simplicities as well as the complexities of life through a different lens now. I value things differently; some things more, some things less. I’ve formed new friendships and rekindled a few old ones. I’ve discovered new passions and identified new dreams. I’ve changed careers.
I think about the future, but worry less about it, if this makes any sense. I waste less time. Okay, I try to waste less time. I hurry less. I think more, which really means I judge less harshly and accept more freely.
While these are good things, I will not give cancer credit for them.
I owe cancer nothing.
I’ve certainly had more than a few glimpses into the dark side of cancer’s transformation.
I witnessed the ugliness and cruelty of cancer up close. I witnessed the illness and slow agonizing death of my mother from metastatic breast cancer. Witnessing such a thing is transforming. I am changed forever due to my cancer experience and hers as well. Cancer has also taken friends of mine.
Cancer takes; it takes a lot.
This is why I will never ever call it a gift. It’s not.
I have not magically morphed into a better person either because of my cancer experience. I’m still just me. This ‘cancer makes you a better person’ theory is just another attempt to tidy up the messiness of cancer.
No, cancer is more like a thief.
You don’t thank a thief.
Today, even three years later, I am still trying to figure out life on this side of the “great divide.” I am still trying to figure out the balancing act of life post-cancer diagnosis.
I’m not there yet.
But I am planning. I am writing. I am adapting. I am doing.
Mostly, I am just ‘being’.
And I am still transforming.
What one word would you choose to describe your cancer experience?
Have you ever been told your cancer is a gift or made you a better person and if so, how did hearing that make you feel?
If you’ve had a cancer diagnosis, do you sometimes consider it the ‘great divide’?
Erin
Monday 21st of December 2015
I have to assess my feelings of my diagnosis each day. After pondering your article and questions, all I feel is confused. In my most private thoughts, I'm NOT scared. I feel like I have a platform now. People don't necessarily expect me to be enlightened or changed, but they listen. They are inquisitive and they pay attention. I feel the need to act on this curiosity as much as possible to share my new found knowledge. So few people have the resources to learn about advanced stages of cancer, why would you research something that is not directly affecting you? Anyway, I had fourth stage non-hodgkins lymphoma when I was 13. My mother had fourth stage hodgkins when she was pregnant with me. My grandfather and my uncle both died from advanced stage cancers. My diagnosis in July was a bump in the road until some research was done, until my family fully understood that there is no long term remission this time. I am still not scared. I'm not angry. I'm not sad or worried or panicky. So for those reasons I say I am confused, because I should be sad, angry, worried and a bit panicked. I am stoic and at peace with my diagnosis and to me that is a blessing. I live day to day, I'm not trying to change much yet, but you never know what the next scan will tell you, so I'm trying to plan for "my future".
Jenny Bender
Sunday 31st of May 2015
I have to admit that while I have not referred to my breast cancer as a gift, I have felt and shared many gifts that have come as a result of my cancer. I, too, would use (have used) the word "transformative" to describe my cancer experience. I've written on my blog about how, if I have to f-ing have breast cancer, I feel like I better make it count for something, and making it count for me means using it as an opportunity to transform myself and my life in ways that better reflect who I want to be and how I want to live. It's not easy, and as I write this, I'm battling a dose of depression, but a lot of positive has come out of the last 7 months since I was diagnosed (at age 39).
Nancy
Monday 1st of June 2015
Jenny, There are some good things that come with bad experiences, including cancer, but this still doesn't make the bad experience a gift. I do think cancer is transforming and I know a lot of people assume that means transforming in a positive way, but it transforms in tons of ways. As you know all too well of course. None of this is easy and I'm sorry you are struggling with depression, which is a common thing with cancer. Thank for reading and for sharing. Sharing always helps. I will visit your blog soon too.
Mandi
Monday 9th of September 2013
Transforming is a good word. Sadly cancer taught me to be more selfish. I am working trying to unlearn that. I had been a very unselfish person and I wasn't taking as care of myself like I needed to, so I had to learn to say "no" and focus on myself. I liked the person I was more before, but I am finding her as time passes. :)
Nancy
Saturday 14th of September 2013
Mandi, It's all a process isn't it? The transformation continues... Thank you for taking time to comment. It's great to get your thoughts.
Katherine
Sunday 8th of September 2013
A gift? No, not the word I would use either, but yes, have heard that. I do like your word for it- transformation. I agree. That is a good word for it. I am certainly different, see things differently, approach things differently, deal with people and situations different. That is a good word. I like that. Going to use that. I also agree it is a thief and no you don't thank thieves. I had great cancer and my brother colorectal and I don't thank cancer for either. He had a very painful experience with it and three months ago gave up and took his life. He did not want to put himself through it any longer nor have his daughters watch him. I am not certain but I am pretty sure it had spread to his liver and I think he was done. Last I knew was there was something they saw on his liver and he never talked about it again. It has been horrible and devastating and no I don't thank cancer for this, I don't see it as a gift. Some say it was a gift that I was diagnosed as it helped him to open up to me about what he was going through. I guess I see that but it all pretty much sucks. I am cancer free now- woo hoo- and go back for 6 month check ups for a while which is just fine with me. I have felt a little guilty that I was able to beat it and he wasn't. I know that is crazy talk but can't help it. I have enjoyed reading your blog and just finished up with your grief posts which I also enjoyed. You are a very talented writer and I look forward to your next post.
Nancy
Saturday 14th of September 2013
Katherine, I am so sorry for your loss. It's so sad that on top of everything else, your brother took his life. Your family has been through so much. I'm really sorry. I'm glad you are doing well, and please don't feel guilty for that. I do understand about the survivor's guilt. I think we all feel that way sometimes. Cancer is such a crap shoot. It just is. Thank you so much for reading this post and a few others too. I'm glad to hear you found my grief posts worth while. Again, I'm very sorry about your brother. Thanks for your kind comments. My best.
Kate Aunaas
Sunday 1st of September 2013
Nancy, I really liked this post and much of it closely resonated with my own cancer experience. I often look back at photos taken pre cancer and I swear I detect this lightness in me that I no longer see. Everyone tells me I dont look that different but I can see it. I have been through something huge, profound and draining and the strains show. Cancer does change you and everyone feels something different. I go agree that I cant think of anything actually good about cancer and it is a total cop out! Hugs from Norway, Kate (OBB)
Nancy
Tuesday 3rd of September 2013
Kate, I'm glad you liked this one. Thanks for letting me know. I know exactly what you mean about those old photos... Here's a post you might like about that very thing. http://nancyspoint.com/a-picture-is-worth-a-thousand-words-and-then-some/ Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts and thanks for those far away hugs too!