I am not cancer.

I am not cancer and cancer is not me. I know its hard to differentiate the two, but I am determined to keep them separate. I am the same person that three months ago you talked to about your thoughts and desires, your problems, your fears, your hopes and dreams. I am not to be pitied. I have cancer, but it is not who I am. I am a woman trying to get through this challenge with minimal disruption to her life. I am a woman trying to work, raise her daughter, make ends meet, nurture relationships, take care of her grandson. I am a person with hopes, dreams, desires, problems and fears separate from any diagnosis. I am just like you.

When you ask me how I am and I say I’m fine, I mean, I’m fine. It doesn’t mean that I am harboring a secret sickness. It also means that I don’t want to talk about the cancer and I don’t want to review my list of medical issues or go over the list of side effects I’m experiencing. It means I’m fine. It means I don’t want to focus on the cancer. It means, please please please, talk to me about your day, your family, your job, your kids. Try to remember when we were friends and you shared your problems too. It means let’s focus on you for a change. It means lets share about work and weather and kids and men and grandkids. It means let’s just be us before there was a diagnosis. I know you care and want to hear how I am doing, but I want to have a conversation that doesn’t include cancer and I know you have things in your life that you want to share too.

Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m the same woman I was three months ago. Remember her? She cares about you and your problems. She cares about what is going on in your life and in your world. She cares about the societal issues that are facing us and has opinions about pretty much everything. She is still your friend that you can call on when you are scared and lonely. You aren’t dumping on her, she wants to be there for you.

Cancer has a tendency to take over your life. It seeps in to every conversation, every word, every thought. It permeates every section of your life and you become the very disease you want to eradicate! My deepest desire is to beat this cancer, but equally important is that I live my life. I will not live this sickness. Its there, I acknowledge it, but I will not give it the power to control my life.

So next time you see me, let’s talk about you. Treat me like you did before I had cancer. Share with me how you are feeling, spare no details, I’m not fragile, I won’t break. I have 10 weeks left of this current cycle of treatment. I will have my ups and I will have my downs. But I will make it through. Some days I will be tired and some days I will be sick. Underneath it all I will ache, my teeth will hurt, my fingers and face will go numb. That is the truth of what I am going through. But the reality of it all is that, I am doing fine. Better than fine most days. Some days downright fabulous.

So, my friends, my dear friends whom I love and appreciate so much, help me to live. Be a part of my life. Keep me in your prayers, lift me and my family up and send us your good and positive energies. And when you are with me, help me to be as normal as possible. I don’t want to be looked upon as the sick woman, the girl with cancer, I want to be looked upon as your friend. As one who cares for you as much as you care for me. I want our relationship to be reciprocal, for I care deeply for you. And I always will. Let me share in your life as you share in mine.