As I've progressed through this experience, I've worked hard on maintaining my PMA (positive mental attitude) as with everything going on, staying focused on the end goal was the only way of tolerating some of the "abuse" my body was being subjected to.
Yes, there were times when it was hard, but the one thing that always brought me back into line was that I was/am one of the lucky ones. Along the way there were constant reminders of those who weren't as fortunate, and experiencing first hand the aftermath of my hospital room-mate Rory finding out he wasn't going to come out the other side and how he had to tell his young son and wider family, well, it just made me feel even more lucky - and determined.
I've said on many occasions how I'm not going to waste this second chance I've been lucky enough to be given, and I certainly feel I'm living by that.
However, that constant reminder of how indiscriminate the disease that is cancer can be continues to "haunt" me.
Before I was diagnosed, my exposure to cancer sufferers and/or victims was quite limited. My mum died from secondary liver cancer, my best mate lost his wife too young to the beast, my sister-in-law won her battle with breast cancer. I'm sure if I trawled back through the memory banks I'd find a handful more.
Given my age and the number of people I've crossed paths with, I consider this is a pretty low number, especially as they used to say 1 in 3 people has cancer. But, since I've completed my treatment, there seems to have been a constant stream of people that I've become aware of who are or have been battling the beast. Unfortunately some are losing or have lost their fight. I'm not saying these people are even in my close circle of acquaintances, but what I am starting to think is that once you or someone close to you is diagnosed with cancer, it seems to open a sort of Pandora's box. All of a sudden you are faced with the reality of how this thing in it's many forms, just keeps on coming. Until then, it was never "personal". Or is it just because I'm a little more sensitive to it now?
Just as I had a "why me?" moment or two during my battle, I am now constantly having "bloody hell, I am really lucky" moments now, and sometimes wonder why I was/am the fortunate one. It obviously doesn't do much good to dwell on such thoughts, but it is still a great leveller. We are placed in many situations throughout our life and while we might think it is our health, wealth and/or intellect that gets us through, the reality is a fair bit of it is plain old dumb luck.
I'm living proof that luck can indeed be on your side in some of the darkest moments and I also believe you can make your own luck at times. I put PMA into that category, especially when you're dealing with cancer. The experts all say those who go in with the right attitude have a better chance of success. I'm not going to even think about debating that, but I do know that when faced with all the challenges the treatments throw at you, you have to believe in what they are trying to do for you and work with them.
During the treatments, you cling to every glimmer of hope because let's admit it, nobody wants to die, but I really believe that if you make the conscious effort to consider yourself as a fighter not a victim, your brain will help your body fight that little bit harder. And every little helps.
This might all be starting to sound a bit philosophical, but I make no apologies. As the title of the post says, I now have constant reminders of my lucky escape (and even have the physical one in the tattoo) and all b.s. aside, my life now is guided to a large extent by my experiences of 2010 fighting this thing. Things are still evolving for sure, but I can't (and don't want to) forget what I've been through. I despair at the way some people take life for granted, and have previously talked about my intolerance for people who "sweat the small stuff" and think they are "hard done by".
While I would never wish my experience on anybody, there are times when I wish I could give some people a real hard dose of reality to make them see how lucky they really are and just how insignificant their petty quibbles are in the grand scheme of things. Maybe some day I'll find a way to do just that. In the meantime, I'll just have to be happy with doing the best I can to ensure my luck holds.
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