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TW: suicidal thoughts
it& #39;s been 8 months since i finished #cancer treatment. i still get flashbacks that feel like yesterday, i shower and see the huge surgery scar on my tummy & every moment of everyday, i feel a lingering ache that rattles me to my bones. trauma, is that you?
it& #39;s been 8 months since i finished #cancer treatment. i still get flashbacks that feel like yesterday, i shower and see the huge surgery scar on my tummy & every moment of everyday, i feel a lingering ache that rattles me to my bones. trauma, is that you?
i& #39;m typically very proactive about processing things. journaling, talking. but not this time. i have avoided sitting with my thoughts about what i went through, bc i& #39;m scared to relive it in the way i need to heal. yet i& #39;m beginning to think running away from trauma is worse.
i don& #39;t have a strong emotional support system within my family, which made the experience much harder. but what i found even more troubling was the shocking lack of resources for young adults dealing with cancer, content that authentically reflects how the process feels.
no books or films (fault in our stars doesn& #39;t count). support groups aren& #39;t available everywhere and they& #39;re scary if you& #39;re not ready. i looked for a roadmap and found none. a young person& #39;s cancer journey is very unique: i was 21 when diagnosed and the last thing on my mind
was my health. after years of deep depression, the world finally felt like my oyster. i had an internship & prestigious summer journalism program lined up, an exciting fall course load planned, and the greatest friends that took most of college to find but thanks to them,
senior year was going to be bomb. then miss cancer came & took everything away and told my friends to graduate without me.
i was diagnosed with synovial sarcoma, an incredibly rare type of soft tissue cancer, so my mom and i had to drop everything and move to houston,
i was diagnosed with synovial sarcoma, an incredibly rare type of soft tissue cancer, so my mom and i had to drop everything and move to houston,
where i wouldn& #39;t be someone& #39;s cancer guinea pig. we knew no one and nothing there. i suddenly found myself living in a cancer hospital for 7 weeks, altogether. when outpatient, i still had to go to the hospital almost every day, for blood work and scans.
i was intensely afraid of needles & i got poked 6 days a week, until november, when i had to give myself nightly shots for 3 weeks to prevent post-surgery blood clots. my tummy was bruised purple and blue.
and the flashbacks i mentioned: bursting into tears on the biopsy table bc the lidocaine shot hurt so bad, gagging bc they stuck a tube down my throat and esophagus to examine my heart, crying when i tried to sit up bc of the surgery wound and begged for more narcotics,
shitting all over the hospital bed and floor like a 95 yo lady bc of the drugs they gave me (i bursted into tear bc i was so embarrassed, and that did not happen just once.)
never have i felt lonelier than i did. one of the chemo drugs (ifex) made my brain really foggy. often i couldn& #39;t see anything clearly so it was hard to watch tv or read. sounds made me dizzy so i rarely listened to music or call people. i was trapped in my own body in an empty
hospital room, squinting at the clock & feeling crushed when i saw that it was only 2pm. i wished i was dead. one of ifex& #39;s side effects was also depression. i had been diagnosed w depression prior, but nothing& #39;s like chemo depression. on my 4th day of chemo, i recall crying so
uncontrollably that i was scaring myself. i tried to say words to the psychiatrist in my hospital room, but i could not get out two words without bursting into tears. i was like a 2 year old again. i remember saying to him, "i don& #39;t know what& #39;s happening to me. i& #39;m scared."
everyday was its own kind of hell. i had just entered the prime of my youth and i was bald, bitter, puking, with no control over my body or life. my hyper type a, planning-obsessed self screamed. walking to the bathroom was exhausting. (idk how i wrote a reported column dont ask)
my mom & i had never fought more (how?? idk). when i went to bed i wished i would never wake up. i told my doctor that if i live through this, i will not be doing it again if the cancer returns. not for a billion dollars. i still feel that way.
8 months later, i& #39;m doing much better. i can handle long walks and can lift most things. i& #39;m doing an incredible internship with really cool people. i learned to drive!! my hair is slowly growing back. i found my passion for health journalism.
i learned a few things along the way as well: 1) there is no time in life for bullshit, shitty people, things you don& #39;t care about. because you could literally be told tomorrow: "i& #39;m sorry rose, but this is a life-threatening diagnosis."
~~live your best life *now*~~
~~live your best life *now*~~
2) the world can be fucking awful. cancer, depression, systemic racism, government-sanctioned misogyny, climate change and a gLoBaL pAnDeMiC. but you can be kind. you can be supportive and treat others with respect. you can be on the right side of history. there& #39;s enough ugly.
i have more takeaways that are more cynical, you can dm me for those.
lastly, i have to acknowledge the financial privilege i had throughout this whole experience. i take care of most of my own bills, but when my life was on fire, my family were able to rent a place in TX and
lastly, i have to acknowledge the financial privilege i had throughout this whole experience. i take care of most of my own bills, but when my life was on fire, my family were able to rent a place in TX and
pay for all the medical bills. i know not everyone could do that and i& #39;m very lucky. however, lemme say this — money can keep you alive, but it doesn& #39;t give you a will to live. all i had during that time was financial support and that was dangerously not enough.
now, what i want you to do is not text me "omg ur so strong." but *share this thread,* especially with any young person you know who has cancer. i wish someone wrote this thread for me a year ago.
