I Am Alive!

I woke up this morning about an hour or so after my pain medication had worn off. Usually I wake up in the middle of the night just when the pain is starting and pop another pain pill which gets me through till the morning, but for some reason last night, I just slept on through. So when I awoke as the dim light of morning was seeping around the curtains, the pain had thoroughly taken control. So I took my pill and as I lay there in bed waiting for the medication to kick in I listened to the sounds of the world coming awake around me. I heard the heater click on to take the morning chill off the house. I have never reset the thermostat since I got sick, so the heater still comes on early in the morning; just like when I was getting up early for work. It made me feel a little melancholy to think of back to when I was working every day. I had to remind myself that those days were coming again, and in no time at all, my day will be starting with getting ready for work rather than waiting for pain medication to take the pain away enough to get out of bed. The birds started singing outside my window and a silly smile crossed my face and I thought to myself…I am alive. When I first was diagnosed with this recurrence 10 months ago and I was reading the survival statistics, it wasn’t certain that I would even make it this far. I never talked about it, about the fact that I could be gone inside of a year, but I knew the threat was there, we all did. We all just kept it secret and hidden, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t come true. And here I am, the world waking up around me, still alive with no discernable cancer left.

I am under no illusions; I know full well the chance of recurrence, which makes these moments even more precious and sweet. Surrounded by the animals I love so much, the light brightening outside, I breathe in all that is around me and bask in the moment. I am alive. I say it over and over again in my head; almost crying out with giddy laughter. I made it, I am alive. I prayed over and over to make it to my daughter’s graduation, and that day is looming on the horizon, I am really going to be there. It’s starting to become real to me, beginning to sink in. I made it.

The pain still evident and obviously out of control, I take a different pain medication and lay back again, the covers tightly wound about me and think of what has brought me to this place and wonder why I was chosen to walk this path. I do not blame anyone, not even myself, nor do I think of the unfairness of it all, for there are many that have it far worse than I, many who have not been given the treasures in life that have been bestowed upon me. I have many gifts, so much to be thankful for, this cancer just happened to me. I wish I could take it all back, rewind the tape and pretend it never occurred, but it did, and there is no going back. I will take the knowledge of this journey every day with me as I venture into my future. Not a day will pass when I will not think about it. Hopefully, I will be given the opportunity to grow old, and the memory of all this will dim with time, but it will never be forgotten, its trials and lessons permanently imprinted forever on my mind and in my heart.

But for today, for this moment, I wallow in the glory of being alive. I let the feeling envelope every fiber of my being. It is like a brilliant white light filling me from the inside out, shining brightly, the room aglow with its warmth. It is life. I get to live it.

I know there are many more days before I will feel good again, and many months of recovery ahead of me once I do; but the reality of the triumph is finally starting to hit me. I made it. I really did!