I'm 5 months from my last chemo (and about 1 hour from my last Herceptin, which really kills the buzz) and a week shy of my one-year anniversary of finding the lump. In cancer lingo it's called a Cancerversary. And as it approaches I have started to feel a weird apprehension, a pressure, to have somehow by now reached an epiphany of sorts - like I should be fist pumping and experiencing heart-filled triumph and shunning all non-organic food particles within a 5 feet radius.
Am I thankful enough? Have I changed enough - meaning not only my lifestyle, but my outlook? Have I repented properly? Do I deserve the life that drugs and needles and terror and $4,540 at the Dana-Farber parking garage have so blessedly afforded me? God. "That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself," said my therapist, as I wept for the first time in months (thanks Lexapro). And it is. I know it, rationally. But I still feel guilty and I don't know...short of something. Short of what?!
Don't know. But I'm evolving and I am thankful and no, I probably don't express it enough. It's because I'm trying to live this life I've been so far able to keep.
And I'm also trying to rock a hair bonnet. I'm trying.