Cancer isn’t trying to Teach me Something

This is not the post I intended to write this morning. I had every intention of updating you all with the fact that I did receive my 2nd infusion and I did receive the kyphoplasty procedure on Thursday.

The infusion was easy, compared to the first one, and I’m still learning the side effects. The kyphoplasty has relieved the bone pain from the broken vertebrae, however, I am discovering just how much atrophy I have experienced in the past 3 weeks.

I intended to tell you a funny story of how one of the nurses at the infusion asked if my two friends were my daughters (umm, no they are the same age as me). I told her I knew the last 3 weeks had taken a toll on me, but I didn’t think it had been that much of a toll. The sweet nurse was very embarrassed after she realized what she said and apologized profusely and often while we were there.

But this morning, before I picked up the computer to share how I am coming through the other side of my own personal March Madness, I saw a post on Instagram.

The post really irritated me.

If you’ve known me for any amount of time, you know that this coming October will be twenty years since I have been dealing with cancer. Thirteen years since it has been metastatic.

That is a long time to deal with cancer.

Let me tell you, Cancer is not a gift.

And being called strong, resilient, or an inspiration does nothing to make me feel better about the cards I’ve been dealt. In fact, it feels like another burden that I carry.

Cancer is not something to brag about having lived with for that many years. It is a grueling, ugly disease that is exhausting to deal with on a daily basis.

So when I saw this on Instagram this morning, my mood suddenly soured.

When you replace “Why is this happening to Me?’ with “What is this trying to teach me?” Everything shifts.

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I will be honest, I almost yelled when I saw the post.

Again, if you know me, I try to keep an upbeat outlook on things in my life. But not everything is a lesson that I need to learn.

• Sometimes bad things happen.
• Sometimes cancer spreads.
• Sometimes you just want to crawl into a hole and cry because it hurts.
• Sometimes you just wish you weren’t having to face this on your own after losing the love of your life.
• Sometimes friends recognize when you are overwhelmed.
• And sometimes those friends may freeze in response because they are accustomed to seeing you upbeat even in the face of adversity.

So please pardon me if I don’t look at my current situation and ask “What is this trying to teach me?”

I’m pretty sure I’ve already earned a Ph.D. in cancer.