My life changes today. Irrevocably.
A regular visit to the ENT can never be a regular visit for someone who’s had nasopharyngeal cancer.
Especially when you were told five years ago, “I don’t want to see you anymore.” A good sign after 20 years of check-ups! Or as good as it can be for anyone at risk of having cancer.
Only someone who’s been there will understand.
It’s more than just a doctor’s visit. It’s remembering.
Remembering the invasion of the probe as it goes through your nasal cavity to where it feels like its penetrating your gut. You try not to gag because you know that, like your mommy taught you, this too shall pass.
Remembering the biopsy, as he casually rips off a piece of your flesh and places it into a jar. Just a regular day at the office.
Remembering the wait, where like Schrodingers cat, you’ll know it when you see it. Is it back? Or is it something benign that can be treated with a good dose of this or the quick removal of that.
And remembering why you could never have gone back to being society’s idea of normal.
Remembering having to pretend that you could! That you’ve integrated successfully into the everyday routine of life, of the usual demands, the expectations, the responsibilities, the self-care, and still being there for those you love 100% with the pieces you still have left of yourself.
So my life changes today. Irrevocably.
Whatever the outcome, it can only empower me.
Because now that I’ve remembered it, I can finally let it go. Forever.
Knowing that even if I am just pieces of who I once was, those pieces are beautiful. Piece by piece, I am whole. And even when I put them back together, crooked and misshapen into a form I hardly recognise as myself, they are 100% who I am meant to be. As God intended.
Written by Allison on behalf of My Child Has Cancer Trust
